#honestly let me know if you read any of these

[usedtobecooler]

live now, think later | steve harrington x afab!reader

a/n: thank you so much in advance to everybody who takes the time to read, reblog and comment on this fic. it's the first thing i've published in close to three months and i'm honestly a little nervous, i hope i've come back with a big enough bang! title is taken from think later by tate mcrae, and a massive thank you to @trashmouth-richie for making my header+dividers for me. 7.8k words.

summary: upon your arrival in hawkins to visit your old friend, eddie munson, his first idea is to drag you down to family video — where you ‘unintentionally’ meet steve harrington. a well timed deal, a fake friend date and a few drinks later, you find yourself in steve’s downtown apartment with lowered inhibitions.

warnings: sexual content 18+ minors dni, piv sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, bratting, spit kink, biting, hair pulling, very poor use of the pull out method. alcohol consumption, mentions of drug dealing and public heavy petting. no use of y/n and very minimal description of reader. eddie munson being eddie munson.

Eddie is all but dragging you into Family Video by your hand, the harsh metal of his rings digging into the webbing of your fingers as he pulls you in through the door.

Eddie Munson was easily the most excitable person you’d ever met in your life, and his sudden enthusiasm to get you into the video store is going to land you in the emergency room, because if he tugs you any harder your shoulder will detach from the socket. 

The buzzer above your head rings violently in an attempt to alert the staff that somebody has come in, and a mop of beautifully styled hair attached to an equally beautiful man comes into view as you edge closer to the rental counter.

"Hey, Stevie," Eddie grins, loud and unabashed, "you got that new one with Meg Ryan in it? Heard she cums at a dinner table and lady luck over here is desperate to see it." 

He's sniggering as you pull away from him and smack at his arm hard enough that he lets out an indignant yelp. Your face is burning hot with embarrassment as the boy's eyes dart back and forth between you both, confusion etched on his face.

He - Stevie, apparently - raises an eyebrow at you both, taking in the disheveled and most likely chaotic scene in front of him, "You mean 'When Harry Met Sally'?"

"Majorly concerning you know what movie it is from the description of 'Meg Ryan cums at a dinner table'," you quip, mouth running away from you before you can even stop it. Your face somehow burns even hotter, Steve crossing his arms over his chest with a small smirk.

He's in a preppy little striped polo shirt under his green embroidered work vest, and god his arms are bulging. His skin is tanned golden, a product of the heat of an Indiana summer, freckles and beauty marks prominent on his face, trailing down his neck and dipping below the collar. 

You stare for a beat too long. Taking in the man in front of you, who looks very sure of himself. 

Eddie knows you all too well, Steve is absolutely your type, which makes your first encounter all the more mortifying. 

"It's my job to know all the new releases, honey." Steve's smile grows smug, and it's breathtaking how attractive you find it, "You're both shit out of luck, it's been on rent all week. Romantic night in, is it?" 

Eddie scoffs from beside you, and it takes everything in you to not be offended by how quickly the noise escapes him, "Yeah, she wishes. She's not my type at all, Harrington. Annoying, clingy, pisses too lo-"

"God, shut the fuck up," you're mortified, covering your face with your hands, "I've been in town less than a day, are you trying to get me ousted?"

Steve looks all too amused by the encounter, struggling to hold back a chuckle. His pretty eyes never leave you as he speaks, "Munson's deflecting, I already know you rejected him and he's taking it like a dagger to the heart." 

Eddie points an accusatory finger, "Take it back, fucker. I've never been turned down in my life." 

Steve quirks a brow at him, then turns his attention back to you. You squirm under his strong gaze, "Is that true, doll? I feel like he's lying." 

"I'm not getting involved in this dick swinging contest," you hold your hands up, trying in vain to ignore the silly little pet name that really does it for you, backing away from the counter slightly, "what are we even here for, Eddie?"

"I was just making sure me and Stevie here were still on for drinks tonight." Eddie glances at Steve, who looks as confused as you feel, “You wanna join us?"

You shoot him an incredulous look, "This feels like a set up."

Eddie smirks, "Why's that? Can't three pals all go out for a drink together? I want my two best friends to get to know each other."

You narrow your eyes playfully, glancing at Steve who seems to have gotten with the program, all signs of confusion gone from his face, "I'm not sure I trust you." You huff, turning to Steve and nodding back at Eddie, "What if he's just setting us up so he can bail and I'm stuck with you all alone, Stevie?"

Eddie feigns offense, "Now why would I do that? Besides, even if I did, you're a big girl. I'm sure you could bully Steve into leaving you alone."

You smirk back at him, "Fine. But if you and Steve start getting all lovey-dovey, I'm bailing and leaving you to pay the tab."

Steve barks out a laugh, "Don’t worry about me, I can behave myself. Same can’t be said for Munson, he takes one look at the Harrington ass and loses all inhibitions.” 

“It is beautifully round.” Eddie admits in defeat, hand clinging to his own flat ass, a ridiculously deep frown etched onto his features.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face and stays firmly put as you exit the video store, every nerve in your body buzzing when Steve winks in your direction when you depart.

The black lace bodysuit you wear clings to your curves nicely, the nip of your waist accentuated by your mom jeans. Eddie had even wolf whistled when he saw you, which was his nerdy way of saying you looked really fucking good.

As you pull up to the strip, Eddie slows down to a stop outside what looks like a dive bar, "I'm gonna drop you off here and go 'round back to park up the van, 'kay sweetheart? Steve's already in there."

Your eyes narrow, "I don't trust you, Munson. This feels like a set up."

Eddie holds his hands up, "It's not, I promise. I just need to go park the van and-" he trails off, sighs and rolls his eyes, "I have to go make a deal super quick. Don't want you there for that, this guy is sketchy."

You huff out a sigh, understanding him completely, Eddie really was a good guy who wouldn't put you in harms way. He knew leaving you with Steve momentarily was safer than taking you with him to a deal, and you trusted his judgment. 

"Okay," you agree eventually, making to hop out of the van, "but I swear, Eddie, if you don't come back, I'm gonna be pissed. You'd better be dead." 

Eddie holds up his hand in a scouts honor as if he was ever in the scouts in he first place, and you roll your eyes as you shove the creaky van door open and jump out.

"I'll be back soon, kiss Steve for me, will you?" Eddie jokes, grinning maniacally.

You stick up the finger and slam the door shut deliberately, making the walk around the side of the van before he can say anything in return.

As you make your way inside the bar, your mind races. Nerves and excitement are almost getting the best of you. Steve was just so cute, Eddie knew exactly what he was doing by introducing you both. 

The place is surprisingly cosy, pool tables dimly lit by orange colored lights. It’s reminiscent of a bar from back home, all hard wood and walls covered in various pieces of movie and alcohol paraphernalia. There are people scattered here and there, in booths and at the bandits, playing games of darts and billiards.

Steve's sat at the bar on an old vintage barstool, side on to you. He's dressed in a tight black t-shirt, washed out Levi jeans clung to his muscular legs and a pair of Adidas trainers with green stripes on his feet. He looked relaxed, floppy hair falling into his eyes. 

You were a goner already. 

As you approach the bar, Steve must sense your presence, as he looks up with a grin, "Hey! Where's Eddie?"

"Parking up the van," you smile, taking the stool next to him and jumping up onto it, trying to ignore the way your tits bounce very obviously with the motion, "I wouldn't bother ordering him a drink yet, though. He's, uh, occupied."

Steve's mouth opens in an understanding 'ah'. It was no secret how Eddie made money, and you were sure Steve had to be used to this by now.

The bartender comes over and you order some fancy cocktail on the menu that consists of Coke, dark rum and cherry liqueur. It comes with a Maraschino cherry on top, and you can't hide the excitement on your face as you take your first sip.

Steve watches you with an amused grin, "You look like you're enjoying that drink."

"Oh, I absolutely am," you reply all too quickly, "a day of Eddie's shenanigans are enough to warrant a good drink." 

Steve leans in closer to you, his eyes flickering over your body none too subtly, the charm ramping up with every sip of his Bud, "I think we’ve spoken far too much about Eddie for now. Tell me a little about yourself, honey."

Honey. There's that damn nickname again, enough to make you melt in a puddle off your barstool. There was no denying that Harrington knew what he was doing.

You shrug, going for nonchalant as you lock eyes, "Nothing to tell, really. I work in a little coffee shop during the day, and at night I guess I'm still trying to figure things out."

Steve nods in understanding, "What kind of things?"

You take another sip of your drink, relishing in the way it buzzes through your body, "Where I fit in the world, I guess. What I wanna do with my life in the long term. I’ve been in a rut for a while."

"I get that. Working in a video store in my mid twenties wasn’t really the plan set out for me, either." Steve responds with a furrowed brow, brutally honest, "Has Eddie told you much about me?" 

You consider, "Not really. Just that you're a ladies man and you’re forever swiping the ‘hottest babes in Hawkins’ out from under him, but you know Eddie, he's a bit. Theatrical." 

Steve chuckles, a flush on his freckled cheeks, as he leans in closer to you, "Between you and me, he's not wrong. Just haven't found the one to settle down with yet." 

At the close proximity, you can really take in Steve. He's all tanned skin covered in gorgeous beauty marks, a strong neck with prominent veins, muscular arms but clearly on the softer side like he didn't take it too serious. He was like a Greek statue, his nose like it was carved from the same stone. 

You flush, taking another - albeit larger - sip of your drink, swirling the ice in the glass, "So, do you pick up all the chicks in Family Video?" 

Steve smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "You recommend a chick flick to a girl and it's like a moth to a flame." 

You do laugh at that, rolling your eyes fondly and nudging his shoulder with your own, "That's how you knew what movie Eddie meant! Romcoms are your strong suit for flirting purposes?" 

Steve's hazel eyes run over your face softly, his soft, pink lips jutted out slightly, "Would it have worked on you, if Eddie wasn't there?" 

Your breath catches in your throat, caught off guard by Steve's question, if only momentarily. "Yeah, I think so. Y'know, if it was actually the movie I was looking for and not an excuse for Eddie to mortify me." 

Steve grins, big and wide at that. Your faces are so close together that if he leaned forward just a smidge more you could rub noses. At this distance, you find yourself being drawn into his orbit, nudging closer to him subconsciously.

"Guess Eddie's bailed on us, huh?" Steve chuckles, moving back a bit and looking at the clock above the bar, the time ticking past an hour with no sign of Eddie coming back, "Or maybe it was his plan all along?"

"He's a schemer." You hum, watching curiously as Steve flags down the bartender and orders you both another drink. You try not to panic about the lack of cash in your back pocket, hoping the drinks weren't too expensive.

As your conversation dies down, your eyes are drawn back to his neck. It's covered in an array of moles and freckles, and you find yourself becoming almost mesmerized by it as he swigs from his beer bottle.

His neck is strong and muscular, tendons protruding as he gulps down the warm beer. The dusting of week old stubble adds to the masculinity of it all. It's a beautiful feature, one that you can't help but stare at with hazy eyes, and the markings scattered across his skin just make it more attractive.

Without even realizing it, your hand lifts, drawn to the smooth skin on the right hand side. You trace your fingertips along a particular set of the moles, shaped like carved out fang bites, feeling the texture against the pads of your fingers.

Steve looks at you, his darkened eyes filled with curiosity and something else entirely. You can't help but blush as you realize what you've been doing, only to find your fingers continue to roam across the skin anyway.

"Is my neck really that fascinating?" He teases, a slight chuckle falling from his lips.

You laugh lightly, trying to play it cool as your fingertips slip from the stubble roughened skin, dancing across the open collar of his shirt playfully before falling back to your glass, "Maybe it's just a bit distracting."

Steve smirks, that look in his eyes causing your heart to rabbit in your chest, "You know, I could get used to having your hands on me."

The huskiness in his voice catches you off guard, and you subtly clench your thighs together, aware of the fluttering in your gut as he leans in closer. 

You roll your eyes playfully, trying to cover your blush by raising your cocktail glass to your lips, "You're such a flirt." 

Steve only shifts closer at that, his shoulder bumping yours gently, "And what if I am?" He asks, lips so close to your ear that you can feel his hot breath dampen the skin, "You're the one with your hands all over me, honey." 

Your breath catches in your throat, a hot spike of heady need and want coursing through your body. It's a momentary slip, one that Steve no doubt catches immediately, "I never said I wasn't enjoying it."

Your voice is barely above a whisper, Steve's close proximity somehow narrowing further as his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, "Trust me, honey. I know you're enjoying it, you've had those pretty thighs of yours clamped together for a moment now. Gotta relieve that ache, huh?"

You shiver visibly, goosebumps rising across your neck and down your arms, jolts of electricity coursing through your body. As if Steve can sense it, he lets his own - unfairly, painfully large, veiny - hand run over your thigh, just above the knee. He traces the curve of your thigh through your jeans, barely touching but it's enough to make you ache for more.

Two seconds or five minutes later, who knows, he pulls away from your ear. You gawk, unsubtle, as he takes a long sip of his drink as if nothing ever happened. He smacks his lips together, those hazel eyes landing on yours again, a playful smile on his lips, "Where were we again?" 

You try to play it cool, but your body is reacting to Steve, still reeling from the feeling of his touch all over you, "Uh. Um," you start, making yourself busy by tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "we were talking about our favorite movies, I think?"

Steve's face kind of screws up into a fake 'ah-hah!' as you blindly (and wrongly) fill in the blanks for him, seemingly completely unfazed by what just happened, "Right! You said your favorite of all time was Dirty Dancing, right?"

He’s making it up right before your eyes, playing along.  And it’s painfully unfortunate that he’s right without even trying, guessing your favorite movie right out the gate. It makes your brain go a little fuzzy. 

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the conversation at hand. Even as Steve's own godforsaken hand continues to rest casually on your leg, his thumb running circles over your inner thigh, just above the knee, "Yeah, absolutely. Patrick Swayze, he's just swoonworthy."

You say it so casually, as if Steve himself didn't look like Swayze. More James Dalton than Johnny Castle, though. The hair, the tight black shirt, the jeans hugged perfectly to the swell of his ass and the curve of his muscular thighs. You had a type, clearly.

"Don't tell anyone, but Roadhouse is my favorite movie of all time." Steve grins, as if reading your thoughts from across the way, "Patrick Swayze, huh? Your type buff guys with a soft side?" 

"I would've thought me sticking around on this ‘date’ with you was enough of a giveaway on that front." You giggle, finally finding the courage to tip the last of your drink to your lips, swallowing it down in one fluid motion. You feel Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your leg, feel his eyes on you as you pretend not to notice.

You know you should move his hand away, but you can't bring yourself to do it. The feeling of his touch more intoxicating than the rum-filled drink you'd found yourself nursing, the hot feeling in your gut growing and growing the higher Steve's hand goes.  

"And here I was, thinking it was just my natural charm keeping you stuck in that seat." Steve says with a chuckle, running circles around your inner thigh like it's not making your insides squirm.

You roll your eyes, unable to hide your tipsy smile. There's just something about Steve, something so naturally charming that draws you in - he's confident without it being too much, and the way a stormy look swarms in his hazel eyes doesn't help with the physical pull you feel towards him.

The more he touches you, the more he looks at you, the more distracted you are by him. The alcohol coursing through your veins does nothing but amplify the warmth spreading through your body at his heavy petting.

He's beautiful, and you're blissfully comfortable in his presence, comfortable enough that the lull in conversation isn't even awkward. You look at each other through heavy lids, find yourself smacking your glossed lips together prettily, leaning your chin on your palm, elbow on the bar.

Finally, you speak, "So, do you always put these moves on your customers like this? Or am I special?" You drawl, teasing.

Steve leans in, his hand skating higher up your thigh, so close to the warm heat between your legs that you squirm a little, "Only the ones who make the moves first. You started this, remember?" 

Your heart rate kicks up a little more, and for a moment you forget where you are. All you can think about is Steve's wandering hand, the bedroom eyes he's giving you like he wants to devour you in public. You want nothing more than for him to pull you in for a kiss, to lose your inhibition and get lost in the heat of the moment. 

Somebody across the room begins hollering, crashing you back to reality, and it's a sobering reminder that there are dozens of people in this bar, who can see exactly what's happening right now. You clear your throat, shuffling back on your barstool a little, regretfully.

Steve's face falls, the flirty smirk gone in an instant, his hand dropping back down to your knee. You want to throw a tantrum like a little kid, tell him that it's not him, that you want it. Want whatever he's offering, just not here.

"We should maybe call it a night?" You offer, nodding towards the door, "I've probably gotta catch the bus back home, I know it leaves soon, so..."

You trail off and Steve nods, the disappointed look still on his face but a charming smirk gracing it once again, "Of course, I'll walk you over to the stop." 

Steve pays the tab like it's nothing, throwing bills and a nice tip on the bar for the guy who served you. As you leave the bar and walk out into the cool night air, it hits you fast just how much the drinks have gone to your head. 

"Hey, you okay?" Steve asks gently, a strong arm snaking around your waist. "My apartment isn't far from here, we can walk back there and sober up a bit? I can drive you home in a few hours." 

If it weren't for the fact you knew Steve, Eddie knew Steve, and he was known for being a decent guy despite his reputation, you'd have shot it down in a heartbeat. But, the opportunity to be in his presence a little longer was something you didn't want to give up.

And, honestly, you didn’t know which bus would get you back anywhere close to the trailer park, not knowing Hawkins from Adam. This was easily the safest option. 

You look up at him, snuggling into him on instinct, "Are you sure? I don't mind catching the bus, Steve. I'm a big girl, I can look after myself."

Steve beams at that, teeth shining as he looks down at you, his eyes fixed on yours, "You might be able to, but I wanna look after you tonight. And besides, I don't think either of us are ready for this to be over yet."

You hide your small laugh into his shoulder, unable to ignore the strong smell of cedarwood and bergamot wafting from his shirt, intoxicating in its own right. The giddy feeling that erupts in you is almost juvenile.

You walk down the streets quietly, taking in the pretty sunset that dims the strip in pretty pinks and oranges. There's a comfortable tension between you both, like you're both attempting to play it cool but the attraction is too strong to stop you from pulling into each other. He never once takes his hand off your waist, and that's a revelation all on its own.

Finally, you reach Steve's apartment, a cozy little bottom floor space. It's minimalistic, like a typical guy's apartment, but it feels homely. Smells like fresh laundry and the same aftershave you'd been smelling the entire walk over. 

Steve looks regretful as he untangles himself from you, throwing his keys down on a table at the front door, "Take a seat, honey. I'll go get you something to drink." 

It's all open planned, the entryway leading straight into the living room, where a simple leather sofa and matching lazy boy sit. You throw yourself down ungracefully on the sofa, tucking yourself into the corner with a leg pulled up under your opposite thigh. 

There's two pictures on a sideboard, one of Steve and Eddie with two women you don't recognize at what looked like an outdoor gig, amongst a crowd of concertgoers. Another with the Hellfire kids, who you wouldn't know if it weren't for Eddie. The lack of family pictures are telling, though you don't dwell on it.

"Lemonade okay?" Steve asks, a pitcher in hand and a few small cups in the other, "I mean, I do have whiskey and beer if you wanna keep the party going?" 

"Lemonade's great." Your voice is fond, unable to keep the smile off your face as Steve sets them down on the coffee table in front of you, looking so domestic it makes you ache.

Your eyes trail over the broad expanse of his back, his strong shoulders in that same tight tee, the way his moles and freckles even continue past the neckline. You wonder if he's covered completely, that same dull throb between your legs returning even as you sober up.

"Stop staring, you'll give me a complex." Steve drawls, not turning to look at you as he pours the cool lemonade into the glasses. You flush warm, averting your eyes. 

He throws himself down onto the sofa right next to you, body also tilted so that you're facing each other, though your legs touch, burning hot through layers of starchy denim.

"I'm sure plenty of girls have been caught staring at you over the years, Harrington." You counter eventually, mouth dry.

"None that looked quite as hungry for it as you do right now." Steve quips, that same flirty smirk on his lips as he hands you your drink, "I didn't say I didn't like it, though." 

Heat creeps up your neck, the need to take a drink intensifying. You do just that, sipping from the glass in your hand. 

Steve's a real handful, and the longer you spend in his presence, the less you know how to handle it. Your body reacting and taking over for your brain, any playful retorts dying in your throat.

"So," Steve starts, no doubt sensing your awkwardness, "tell me. How did you meet Eddie?" 

You pause for a moment, caught off guard by the question, "How did I meet Eddie?" You laugh a little, flippant, "Before he came to Hawkins to live with Wayne, he lived in my town. He came home last Christmas break and we met at a friend's party."

Steve raises an eyebrow, "A friend's party?"

You smile. "It's not a crazy story, just a guy we both knew at different times. We just clicked I guess, we have similar interests and he just has this way of making you feel comfortable and safe. I can see why you're friends, you're so alike in that way."

It's Steve’s turn to blush, a flush of pink spreading over his nose and cheeks cutely, "What a compliment. That's cool though, so you didn't know each other before he moved?" 

You shake your head, "Nah, he's a little older so we missed each other. But, our friend - Carter, told me this hilarious story about how he got kicked out of middle school that I've got to tell you..." 

You trail off, telling the story that Steve genuinely laughs at, this booming, goofy thing that is just so goddamn endearing. 

Steve listens intently, like he's genuinely interested. His gaze locked on yours, like he's trying to memorize every single thing you're saying. You don't miss his fond looks as you talk with your hands, gesturing wildly as you tell the story. 

And then, without warning, he leans in with a strong hand on the side of your neck, fingertips sliding into your hair. 

He gives you enough time to pull back, a moment to say no that you choose not to take. His lips brush yours, soft and tender at first until you're melting into his touch, deepening the kiss with a surge of your body. 

His hand almost engulfs your neck, thumb running gently over your trachea as your chest rolls into his, desperate to get closer. The light smacking sounds of wet lips making you light headed, your hand coming out to tug at the material of Steve's shirt to steady yourself.

Steve's tongue slithers out to swipe your bottom lip and you're a goner, climbing ungracefully into his lap, knocking him back against the sofa. He lets out a startled huff, both hands coming out to bracket your waist when you allow him entry into your mouth. 

It's raw, messy and a little bit gross. Steve tastes like beer and a tang of the lemonade he'd been sipping, a hint of something else under there, a heady cinnamon. It's intoxicating, more than the drinks you'd nursed in the bar, and you find your hips rolling down into his on instinct, desperate to show him how much you wanted him.

He grunts, hands rocking you and helping you along. He's not hard yet, not at all, but the way he's moving your body is clear enough that he's into it as your tongues slip back and forth. He pulls back a little, the kiss becoming light and you let him guide you.

"Sorry, I just," Steve looks up at you with wild eyes, hair fanned out around his face where he lies back against the sofa, "I couldn't help it. You're so kissable, y'know that?"

“Don’t say sorry,” you scold playfully, smirking down at him, “you have my permission to do what you want. Anything you want.”

His hand wanders over your breast teasingly, light touches that you can barely feel through the layers of bra and shirt over your taut nipple, enough to have you arching into the touch in a silent plea for more.

Steve chuckles, deep and mischievous, clearly enjoying how your body melts under the simplest of grazes. It’s clear as day that he doesn’t give one singular fuck as to how desperate you are, pleased and satisfied taking his time with you.

Your hands entangle in his thick chestnut hair, tugging roughly at the root until Steve is moaning, hand faltering to skate down your stomach. Landing on the button of your jeans, but not moving. 

“Steve.” You groan, impatient, “Don’t frustrate me or I’ll do it myself. Please?”

Steve tsk’s, his pearly whites gleaming in the low light as he smirks at your desperation, “You don’t like it slow?” 

You roll your eyes, tugging his hair again, using it as reins to grind down into him, the heat of your cunt enough to have him grunting quietly. “Slow is boring. Slow means careful. I don’t want you to be careful with me, Steve. Show me how desperate you can be, show me how desperate you are for me.” 

Steve’s eyes flash so dark they’re near black, the sweetness still lurking vanishing in an instant. He gives you one last squeeze to your ass before he’s using both hands to practically rip the button of your jeans, fingers slipping into the tight denim and beneath the satin of your panties. 

“I’ll show you, you impatient brat,” he grunts, fingertips sliding between your folds and his eyes roll back at the feeling, “like fucking velvet, honey. You’re so wet, how long you been like this for me?”

“Somewhere between entering the bar and you touching my thigh.” You breathe, crying out when his pointer and middle finger slide into you at once, a blissful stretch that takes your goddamn breath away. 

“So easy for it.” Steve coos, and it would be offensive if it weren’t for the way he looks at you with honey swirled irises, soft at the edges despite the bite of his words. 

The hand not preoccupied with your cunt grips for your throat, thumb pressing into your pulse point as Steve surges forward to capture your lips once again. It’s rough, intimate, the graze of Steve’s stubble rubbing your chin raw as he bullies his tongue into your mouth. 

Your brain short circuits, his tongue reducing you to a bumbling, sobbing mess as you grind down into his palm, clit catching and rubbing against the dry skin in the most painfully beautiful way. 

The air is thick with sexual tension, thicker than the strands of hair you pull and tug at, thicker than the outline of his cock that you can feel digging into the fat of your inner thigh. 

“That’s it,” Steve mumbles against your lips, the pads of his fingertips rubbing against that little bump on your frontal wall that has your hips jumping forward of their own accord, “don’t hold back, honey. Let me hear you fall apart for me.”

It’s domineering. He’s fully in control and you’re letting him as you rut against the palm of his hand, sweat coating your brow as you fuck your hips against him, desperate to reach the edge. 

The plushness of his lips kiss down your jaw, to your throat where he latches on and sucks his mark into your skin. Sure to be a beautiful purple bloom in the morning, a temporary reminder that he was there. You want to beg for more. 

So you do. 

“Mark me like I’m yours.” You cry, whimper, even. Your body runs hot, goosebumps erupting on your skin as your impending orgasm starts to build. 

You swear you feel the smirk against your flushed throat. Steve latches onto you again, this time lower down, wider. You pull his hair, sighing contentedly as he suckles, nibbles at your tender flesh to produce yet another mark. 

His hips jump up against yours, a momentary slip that makes you want to plead for his cock, your brain so fuzzy with the need to rut and fuck that you’re about to give up the orgasm you’re so close to getting. 

“You’re clenching so tight around my fingers, baby,” Steve moans, kissing soothingly over the thumping ache of a bruise he’s left on your neck, “you gonna cum for me?” 

The white hot flashes of want and hunger you feel prickle up your back only intensify with his words, the end in sight as you ride against the palm of his hand feverishly, your clit sliding beautifully over the flesh. 

Your orgasm rips through you like a fucking knife to the stomach, your fingers gripping and pulling Steve’s hair so tightly that his head snaps back with the sheer force. You sob wetly, riding his fingers with jerky hips as he fucks you through it, eyes bleary but focused enough to see the hungry way he looks at you falling apart for him, soaking your panties and his fingers in the process. 

“You needed that one, huh?” Steve coos, mocking you lightheartedly as his fingers deftly slip from inside of you. You try your best to ignore the way it makes you feel empty. 

You nod dumbly after a moment, the whooshing in your ears beginning to fade out. You collapse into his chest with a small, contented sigh.

It takes only a mere few seconds for you to get with the program once more, kissing tenderly at Steve’s mole flecked neck, burying in to nip with your teeth hesitantly. Your hips move like they have a mind of their own, grinding down into the incredibly prominent bulge that rests hard against his zipper.

He grunts, hips thrusting up into yours as you move in some sort of slow, aching rhythm. His wide hands practically engulf your waist, fingertips digging into soft, supple flesh to help you rock your tired body against his own. 

It feels so fucking good, your body reacting to his in a way that was genuinely concerning, the primal need to fuck and have him inside of you taking over any kind of inhibition you previously had. He feels big, thick and hot nestled between your folds through two layers of rough denim, and the desperation ramps up.

You whine, pathetic into his salty, sweat damp skin, “Need more. Need you inside me, Steve.”

Steve groans like he’s in pain, hips jerking up involuntarily like they have a mind of their own, knocking you both out of the rhythm, “You sound so pretty when you beg. I’ll take care of you, honey. Knock you dumb just like you need.”

The sound you make is so pathetic that you instantly bury your face tighter into his skin, fingernails biting at the back of his neck. Steve’s hands are under your ass in a second, gripping to your thighs as he flips you onto your back on the sofa, muscular thighs spreading your legs impossibly wide as he buries between them.

“You need these off.” He grunts, pulling at the baggy denim of your jeans with rough fingers. You barely have the coherency to lift your ass up to help him wriggle you out of the offending material, body practically limp after the bone melting orgasm he just gave you with practiced ease.

“This too?” He asks gently, reaching for your top. You nod, lifting yourself up so he can slip it over your head, leaving you in only your bra and panties. 

You don’t wait for him to ask before you’re unclasping your bra, pulling that off so that your tits are bared too. They look great, your best feature if you did say so yourself, so it wasn’t exactly a difficult decision to make. 

He marvels at you for a second too long, taking in the sight of your body laid out below him, and those stormy eyes of his look deeper yet again – he looks hungry. Instead of it making you self conscious, it only spurs you on.

You wrap your legs around his torso, thick thighs pulling him in until he’s losing his balance and having to lean one arm out against the arm of the sofa to brace himself over you. The gold of his chain dangles close to your mouth, cooling the plumpness of your bottom lip with every gentle sway. 

“Down, girl,” Steve scolds, though that cocky smirk still graces his features and makes him look so painfully hot it makes your pussy flutter, “I gotta go get a condom.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “And risk ruining the moment? You’re clean, right?”

Steve nods, that cock-sure confidence faltering for a second, “Are you?”

You nod, biting at your bottom lip, “Haven’t done this for a while, big boy. You think you have the restraint to pull out in time?” 

Steve shudders visibly at your question, a heady whimper escaping his lips, “I can try my best, but no promises, honey. I felt how tight and soaked you were around my fingers, if you feel too good I’m not responsible for the consequences.”

You let out a shaky laugh, though it cuts off into a moan when Steve lifts himself up and away from your body for long enough to stretch his arms behind his neck, pulling his shirt off from the back of his head with one fluid movement. 

He’s a marvel. The moles and beauty marks extend the entire way down his torso, even below his belt line, arms sculpted beautifully and his tummy muscular yet still soft. He’s everything, your belly flutters looking at this fucking perfect man sat between your spread thighs like some sort of Greek marble statue.

“Holy. Wow.” Your mouth is dry, your hands having a mind of their own yet again – just like in the bar – and coming out to touch and squeeze the flesh of his torso. Steve smirks, like he knows what you’re so hung up about, arching into your touch. 

He allows you the seconds of indulgence before it’s back to business, his fingers making light work of his belt and jeans as he regrettably departs his space between your naked legs to push the material down his legs and away from your bodies. 

His dick is so heavy that even though it’s fully hard, it doesn’t slap against his tummy, hanging slightly forward with its own weight. He’s big. Alarmingly big. And did you mention thick? Really thick.

God. He was going to be a stretch.

Steve grins sheepishly, settling back between your legs hesitantly. He makes to speak, but you stop him in his tracks; 

“You’ve not gotta be gentle,” you reassure, reminding him of your words before he dipped his hands into your panties just minutes ago, “fuck me like you mean it.”

Steve groans, burying his face into your neck as he lines himself up with your cunt and pushes in with one fluid motion. It knocks the breath out of the both of you for a moment, and you whimper pitifully at the gorgeous, burning ache of him stretching you out to fit him perfectly. 

“Holy shit,” He breathes, panting into your neck, “so fucking tight for me, honey.” 

You preen at Steve’s words, arching into his torso and somehow pushing him in even deeper. He had no idea just how much it stroked your ego to hear those words, no idea that it turned your insides into goo to know you were doing so good for him before it even started.

He rolls his hips into yours, the wet heat of your cunt gripping him, and you pant like an animal in heat when the subtle movement causes the coarse hair nestled in his mons to catch onto your sensitive clit. 

Your hips wriggle a little after a moment, a sign to let him know it’s okay to move, and Steve takes that subtle movement and runs with it — pulling out only to slam back in again, knocking your body up the couch.

It’s maddening. Your body runs hot with want and desperation, insides molding to the shape of his – quite frankly, annoyingly big - dick with each thrust, driving you absolutely insane in the process. The cut head rubs against that damn spot each time, and you know he’s going to tip you over for a second time all too soon.

“Fuck.” You cry, hands coming up to bury in his mane of hair once again and tug him down, “Fucking — how does it feel to be Gods favorite?”

Steve grins, mischievous and lust bitten around the edges as he sinks into your cunt with a quickening pace, “Stroke my ego baby, I love it.”

“Don’t get cocky, Stevie. Or I’ll just shut my mouth.”

The grin turns salacious, a large hand coming out to wrap along the expanse of your throat, just resting and not pushing, thumb caressing the side of your neck soothingly, “Don’t you wanna be good for me, honey? Or are you bratting so that I’ll give you what you really crave?” 

You whimper involuntarily, and that's all the confirmation Steve needs to really drive into you. Your back arches so that your torsos flush together, and he snakes a hand beneath the curve to grip onto your waist from below. 

“Oh my God!” You moan, body jolting at the change of angle. You’re turned into a babbling mess, fingernails digging into each of Steve’s biceps as he fucks you deep, rough enough to leave a mind numbing sting that you swear you feel in your damn throat. 

He’s looking at you with this wild expression, eyes wide like he’s drinking you in, watching each emotion he evokes from you with his body, “That’s it, taking me so fucking good. You like being fucked like a whore, honey?”

You nod, knocked dumb, mouth hung open like a pliant slut, a constant steady stream of whines and shuddering gasps falling from parted lips with each deep slide of his cock inside of you.

“You trust me?” He whispers, lips hovering just mere centimeters from your own, and you nod again, going cross eyed. 

A drop of saliva hangs from Steve’s pursed lips, sliding down into your open mouth and onto your tongue. You cry out, pathetic and desperate as you swallow down the spit like it’s cool water on a hot summers day. 

Steve shudders against you, hips slamming into you as his thrusts become erratic. You pray his apartment is somewhat soundproof, for all you can hear is the wet slap of skin on skin mixed with dirty moaning and pitiful cries.

“You’re perfect,” Steve mutters, sloppily kissing your lips before moving back to your jaw, worrying the flesh between his teeth like he can’t help it, “a fucking dream, honey. See how you’re ruining me?” 

You don’t get a chance to reply before he’s dropping your body back onto the sofa, his thumb swiping over your clit in a desperate attempt to get you there before he does.

It’s all too much. Your body runs hot, static surging up your back, hot in your gut as he works you over. You have to clench your eyes shut, painfully aware of his sculpted body gleaming with sweat, the swivel of his hips as his cock buries deep into you. 

Your second orgasm hits you just as hard as your first, your legs shaking and cunt clenching sporadically as it washes over you like a fiery inferno, gasps and wet cries of Steve’s name and other incoherent nonsense spewing from your lips. 

“Oh shit, holy fuck, baby you feel so – so good, god I’m gonna cum,” Steve shallowly fucks into you, jerky and desperate, “where do you want me to– fuck!” 

You open your eyes within enough time to see Steve pull out of you, sloppily tugging at his cock two, three times before he’s spilling all over your stomach. Hot spurts of it cover you from your belly button the whole way to your chest, and you swear you’ve never seen a man cum so much in your damn life.

It’s so hot. Being branded by ropes of cooling semen, sparking over finger bitten skin and bruises made by warm and heavy lips. 

There’s a long second afterwards, where Steve sags heavily against the couch as his dick softens, both of you panting and trying to catch a breath. 

“I’ll be right back,” Steve’s voice shocks you out of the contented post-orgasm haze, his hand squeezing your inner thigh gently as he gets up from where he’s perched, off in search of what you don’t know.

He reappears with a wet washcloth, and it’s all very domesticated as he wipes you down gently with the cool towel, fingers gentle against your sore skin in a stark contrast to just moments earlier.

You’re both completely naked still. This should be strange, but it doesn’t feel that way. Steve makes you feel painfully at ease and that’s something your orgasm fogged brain can’t comprehend or bear to think about right now.

“This might be a bit presumptuous, but,” Steve hums, inspecting your body to make sure he’s cleaned you down good enough for his liking, smirking as you squirm under his gaze, “do you wanna stay the night? It’s really late and, uh, well I don’t wanna kick you out after that. It was a bit intense.”

Your eyes are bleary. Fuck. He’s going to ruin you for anybody else.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Your voice is soft, quiet as you rise from the soiled sofa to sit up properly, “You’ll need to call Eddie, let him know I’m okay.”

“I think he knows you’re all good,” Steve grins sheepishly, helping you to your feet and tugging you close as soon as you’re up, “I might’ve called him when I was in the kitchen earlier, let him know you were here to sober up.” 

You roll your eyes with a small smile, leaning into him with a heavy sigh, “You better have a comfy bed.”

“The comfiest.” Steve confirms, dragging you gently towards the door, “I also have a really big shower, and really good water pressure, so…” 

“Oh my God, I’m never leaving.” You mumble into his chest, giggling playfully when he lifts you up ever so slightly with his muscular arms and knocks the bedroom door shut behind you. 

part 2?

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington blurb #mine #my fanfic #x reader

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Tarot Reading (Pick A Card): What Are Their Current Intentions? 💌

Hey, everyone. I am back for another Tarot reading today. I took some time away from this blog and doing readings because I needed to self-care, to reflect and regroup. But, now I'm back! So, let's get into it.

Today, we are going to be looking at your person's current intentions. Meaning what do they want out of this connection, what do they want to give you and what actions do they plan on taking. Remember that energy can always change. I will give it to you honest, per usual, but try not to either get too frustrated by a reading or overly idealize a situation because of a reading you receive, either. My motto for love readings is "don't stress, don't obsess".

Also, on Patreon, I will be doing an extended reading where we will see what will happen the next time you see your person. So, if you're interested in joining me over there, the link to the extended will be at the end of each pile's reading.

I am also not taking reversals because I tried to earlier and the energy just felt very off. I feel like I have just gotten into such a groove of not taking them that I am probably just not meant to for awhile.

Anyway, choose the image or images below that you are most drawn to. The theme for today: birds. Why? Because a little birdie is going to tell me what your person's intentions are. Lol idk. Sometimes, I just choose what's most aesthetically pleasing to me in the moment.

As always, trust your intuition. It will tell you if you have chosen the right pile or if there are messages here for you. 💚

PILE 1

PILE 2

PILE 3

PILE 4

PILE 1

Knight of Cups

(clarified by: Seven of Swords)

Judgement

(clarified by: The Star)

Three of Pentacles

(clarified by: The Tower)

Queen of Pentacles (back of the deck)

Pile 1, I have the feeling that your person has some explaining to do! I think, in the past, they played around on you quite a bit. This could have been a situationship that never went anywhere, an unfulfilling relationship or even some kind of unrequited love situation. Regardless, there was some sort of major ending. A fall out. A bridge burned, even, for some of you. And I actually think it was good for you. Even though it was painful, ending things with this person was very empowering for you. I am getting that phrase "may the bridges I burn light my way". You kind of feel like you're in unbothered mode, moving on, while this person is still very much hurting over this.

So, what are their current intentions? Well, they want you back. I say that because I am hearing the Nsync song I Want You Back. But, I get the feeling from you that this is vaguely amusing or even hilarious and ridiculous. Even though they are planning on making this romantic gesture, I don't know how successful it will be and they don't either. I guess we will see in the extended! But, the thing I am feeling is that they really did something to disrespect you or take you for granted. They may have even lied in some way. At the very least, they hurt you unnecessarily and it's no one's fault but theirs. You know that and, if it's any comfort, they know it, too.

Tbh, I am definitely getting "third party" energy here. And I feel like this went one of two ways. They may have chose someone else over you and this person turned out to, honestly, be a total nightmare. The connection definitely feels karmic and in that very painful way that karmic relationships can be. They may not have realized what they were signing up for with this person til they were in it. Also, maybe this person isn't overly toxic but the situation is just very unstable. One of the reasons why is... you. Which is funny because you kind of have the energy of the "now why am I in it?" meme. You aren't in this relationship and you aren't pursuing this person. But, this karmic knows how much your person loves you, maybe through suspicion or an intuitive sense. They know they can't compare and it's something that makes them very insecure.

I see you as this Queen of Pentacles to your person. Regardless of your gender, you are a very feminine being who has a stabilizing, nurturing effect on them. In fact, this might become a bit of an issue because they could project their mother complex on to you, sometimes. It's easy for you to fall into that but I think you have been working on it. You have been learning to put yourself and your needs first. You could have birth chart placements in Earth: Taurus, Virgo or Capricorn. As caring and sensitive as you are, you are also very sensible. And that level head has allowed you to set very firm boundaries now with this person.

But, I will say that you don't have to necessarily burn a bridge with this person. And if you have, you can rebuild it. You can be firm and strong yet still kind. There is hope for this connection but it's also up to you and your free will. This person used their free will to choose someone else. So, you can use your free will to choose yourself, if you want. It's funny because I am not getting a lot about THEIR intentions because, in the end, your Guides want you to remember that this is up to you. Even though you feel a powerful connection with this person, even though they want you back, you get to choose what path you want.

I also get the feeling that this person is far from ready. They are trying to get ready. And maybe you don't want to wait around for that. But, they are going through some massive changes and that is destined, whether you end up together or not. You were the catalyst for that. But, they are a little too focused on getting you back, as if you are this goal or prize. And to quote the legendary Princess Jasmine, you are not a prize to be won! It may be especially messy because they might still be with this third party. BUT, I don't think they will come forward to you with this romantic offer until it's done. It may end in a very dramatic fashion, though. Actually, I think it most likely will end that way lol.

They still have a lot to learn. They are this Knight of Cups. They want to be emotionally available to you but they are still not quite mature enough yet. They could definitely have Water placements in their chart: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces. Scorpio, most likely, is coming through strongly. (They could also have Aquarius energy or you could) They are highly secretive in a lot of ways and the biggest thing they need to work on is honest, open communication without fear of vulnerability. They are not there yet but they're working in it. When they finally come forward, it will lead to a revelation of their true feelings toward you. But, it's going to take a lot of effort from them.

What will happen the next time you see this person? Join me on Patreon in the extended reading to find out

EXTENDED READING FOR PILE 1

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PILE 2

The Hierophant

(clarified by: The Empress)

Five of Swords

(clarified by: Knight of Wands)

Five of Wands

(clarified by: The Lovers)

Two of Wands (back of the deck)

Pile 2, your person is feeling this very restless desire to move toward you. This is something that seems to be affecting everything they do. It's like no matter what they do, their attention drifts back to you. But, not really in a daydreamy sort of way. More so in the sense that this person wants to take action toward you and move out of the current place they're in. For some of you, they may actually be thinking about moving to where you are, as this could be long distance. That's how serious they are about you.

That may be pretty shocking to you. I say that because a) this feels like a situation that's in separation and that you haven't spoken to this person in a long time and b) they've never been the serious type before. I see them as this Knight of Wands figure. They could have Aries, Leo or Sagittarius placements in their chart. They are very fiery and more on the masculine side. They were either a major player when you were in their life or they were rather insensitive and self-centered. Somehow, they really hurt you. Maybe treated you like an option, maybe were very reckless with your feelings. They could have even just rejected you or not given you the time of day because they were too busy chasing after other people. This person is very attractive and charismatic and is used to love interests flocking to them. But, in the midst of all that, they failed to appreciate the one who mattered most: you.

I said all of that because I do think this person is constantly thinking back to that period when you were in their life and evaluating their mistakes. I'm hearing, "I was such an asshole". Well, I won't argue there lol. I also think that, at one point, they had a choice between you and someone else. Or something else. Maybe not necessarily a person but a lifestyle or something. Maybe they chose their immaturity and BS over you. Regardless, you walked away from them once it proved to be too much. And I think they are striving very hard to learn from these past mistakes.

There is a lot of fear they harbor over you moving on and finding someone else. Maybe you already have and they know that via word of mouth or social media. Regardless, they want to be better than your other options. Because, let's be real, YOU have plenty of options to choose from and I think this person either forgot that or didn't fully realize that. On some level, they were convinced that they were the prize. Well, I think you've effectively flipped that script on them. Because they are seeing you as The Empress: a very feminine individual who is absolutely gorgeous, from the inside out, and high-value. (You may have Taurus or Libra placements, especially Taurus). They are feeling super-attracted to you and I get the sense that you are deliberating leaning more into your Empress power and they can energetically sense that. And it's making you wildly magnetic to this person, more than ever.

Their intentions are basically to cuff you, to lock you down into a commitment. But, of course, whether or not you say yes to this is up to you. I feel like you actually wanted a real commitment with them at one point and made yourself available and they either rejected you or took you for granted or both. But, now, it's like they are on the same page now that you were then. Does that matter to you now, though? The song Too Little Too Late by Jojo is coming through. Listen to the lyrics. This may either be how you feel or what they fear you're going to tell them. However, I don't think they are willing to give this up without a fight. And they are very intent on showing you how much they want this and how much they will fight for it. How you respond is up to you.

I do think this is a very significant connection and, at one point, you saw this person as "the one". They are definitely a soulmate of some kind. Possibly even that label that rhymes with "schwin schlame", if you ascribe to that. But, just remember that these types of connections do not necessarily have to end up in union. This is more of guidance for you. Trust whatever your heart is telling you, in regards to this situation, and don't be overly attached to an outcome or a preconceived notion of your future with this person.

What will happen the next time you see this person? Join me on Patreon in the extended reading to find out

EXTENDED READING FOR PILE 2

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PILE 3

Six of Cups

(clarified by: Two of Wands)

The Lovers

(clarified by: Queen of Pentacles)

Three of Cups

(clarified by: Ace of Swords)

King of Wands (back of the deck)

Pile 3, the energy here is so interesting. First of all, I wouldn't be surprised if you were also drawn to Pile 1. But, only check it out if you were truly drawn to it. This is another energy, though. A different person from that pile. It's a new person that you either haven't met yet or you have just recently met. If you haven't met them yet, you will very soon and I also feel as if you FEEL them already. Maybe you're having dreams about them or getting signs or confirmations. Either way, this is definitely someone a part of your soul family. You have had past lives with them and they're a soulmate. Like, a high level soulmate. They are this King of Wands figure: a very masculine individual who has healthy confidence, mature strength and is a leader. They likely have placements in Fire: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius.

Keep in mind that readings can be futuristic, on occasion, or tell us how a connection will play out in the near future. So, if you haven't met this person yet, they will feel this way about you soon after. Maybe they already do, to some extent, because they already have their eye on you or just sense you subconsciously. But, if you have recently met them, this is how they are feeling now and what their intentions are now. If neither of this situations apply, this may not be your pile. Because I am getting this new and fresh kind of energy from them. It doesn't feel like anyone from the past.

Anyway, with that in mind, their intentions are pretty simple. Powerful but simple. They just want you to be with them. This is someone who knows what they want. I say that because two songs came through just now: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys and I Wanna Get To Know You by G Unit. So, yeah, very straightforward! Lol and that will be the refreshing thing about this person. They will be that healthy masculine counterpart who knows how to go after what they want and put in effort consistently. And I get the feeling that most of you are not used to such behavior from the masculines you've been with in the past.

The Queen of Pentacles also came up in Pile 1. And this is you, regardless of if you're male or female. You are a very feminine being who has a very grounded, comforting, and abundant energy. You could have personal placements in Earth: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn. They see you in this way. They see your beauty and your value. However, they aren't just going to think this or say this. They want to SHOW you how much they value you. They want you to feel chosen and appreciated. They intend to show you that you're their top priority.

It's like they have always known you existed and always knew you were out there. Like their heart was holding out for someone like you, throughout all their disappointing romantic experiences, and that belief in love kept them going. For a select number of you, this is someone you knew while growing up or in high school or college who you are reconnecting with. And maybe you didn't see each other in a romantic light then but you can see it now. Kind of like Simba and Nala in The Lion King. Something about lions or Africa could be significant. One or both of you could have Leo energy or be of African descent. I am also getting that this could have been a friend or a sibling in a past life that you're coming together with romantically in this life. Don't let the latter possibility freak you out. Relationships can shift like that on the soul's journey.

Also, this person is a lot of fun. They may see you as a blast, too, and want to be very social with you. I can really see you on their arm at social events. This person is very attractive, very charming and they have lots of admirers, platonically and romantically. And they are going to want to show you off because they see you as an equal match. I also think they know that people will love you and will find you as funny and smart and fascinating as they do. You will meet a lot of new people through this individual.

In my reading in Your Future Romantic Partner, there was a pile about you being with someone in the public eye, in some capacity. If you picked that pile, this is probably that person. They really have that it factor! And, in terms of their relationship with you, they really want to be the best partner they can be for you. This will be a very harmonious and fulfilling union, if you choose it. That doesn't mean it will be perfect or that they're perfect, though. And things going so well may trigger your "flight response" because you're so used to being let down. You're not used to being appreciated this much and treated this well. But, you deserve it! So, don't run from it. If those fears or insecurities rise up, just deal with them and let them go. You don't want to miss out in something great just because it's foreign territory. (Speaking of which, they also may be of a different nationality than you or live in another country and have a different accent than you)

What will happen the next time you see this person? Join me on Patreon in the extended reading to find out

EXTENDED READING FOR PILE 3

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PILE 4

Ten of Wands

(clarified by: Nine of Pentacles)

Nine of Wands

(clarified by: Ace of Swords)

Five of Cups

(clarified by: Judgement)

Eight of Pentacles (back of the deck)

Pile 4, it feels like your person is hanging on by a thread. They are going through a highly stressful time and it feels like much of this stressed is self-induced. They have been putting way too much on their plate and they are reaching a point of burnout. This is someone who is a hard worker, to the point of being a workaholic, and they are learning that they can't just bury themselves in work to avoid their problems. Because, you know, that only makes your problems worse. And I think they have done this in order to avoid thinking about you, even though they have strong feelings for you.

Something happened here that made you guys fall out of touch. Maybe you had a falling out or you just lost touch. I feel like there was some sort of big misunderstanding that caused this or there was a sense that things that were left unsaid. It's really interesting because the energy here is kind of... vague. I think this is maybe someone who never expressed their feelings or romantic interest to you whatsoever. And for a long time, you had no idea that they felt that way toward you. Maybe until you chose this pile lol. Or probably sometime recently. You might have learned it from another Tarot reading or just a sudden epiphany/download. Take it as it resonates. But, when I am doing these readings, I usually get a sense of the "story" involved. Here, it doesn't feel like that because I think you spent a lot of time very unaware of this person's feelings for you and how that was driving their actions and decisions.

So, yeah, this definitely feels like a former friend or co-worker who was a secret admirer. For most of you, they're not in your life anymore. And if they are, you are at a distance and not really communicating. But, either way, they really want that line of communication to open again. And they also have this strong desire to be with you. Or, at least, to confess their feelings to you. It is this burden that is weighing on them very heavily. That is actually a part of their stress. They aren't able to get those feelings off their chest and that's very burdensome. They are looking at you as the Nine of Pentacles, so you may have Earth placements (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn) in your chart. (A very Earthy reading today) They are kind of putting you on a pedestal and idealizing you as this really beautiful, really valuable being that they want but can't have.

Something about pursuing you would have been "wrong", in their mind. For many of you, this is someone who is married or in a serious relationship. It also could have been a co-worker or someone at your job who didn't want to cross professional lines with you. But, whatever the case, they really regret not going for it. If they're with someone else, I don't think it's a happy situation. In fact, I think it's very codependent and a public show of happiness instead of something genuine. They definitely could be one of those couples who are always posting pics together on Instagram but are actually disconnected and miserable together in real life. But, it's all a part of this image of a perfectly successful life this person has always strived for. And they are starting to see how hollow that can be.

So, I am not getting a lot about intentions toward you. Like, yes, they want you but they are not ready to do anything any time soon. They have a lot they need to release to do so. I think this person will undergo some massive shifts in the near future, whether that's totally changing careers or leaving their current partner. They are in resistance mode still, though, too afraid of change. I am hearing Let It Happen by Tame Impala. They need to just let go and stop trying to control everything in their life. They have all these preconceived notions about the life that they "should" be leading and that has always hele them back.

They are also thinking frequently about you because they admire how you live your life. While they seem like the codependent type in relationships, you are much more independent. You also don't care much about others' approval in the way that they do. They would love some of that to rub off on them. Even though they want to be with you, a part of them also wants to be you. Like I said, the energy here is very different. I can't even gauge much about how you feel about them because I just don't think this is something at the forefront of your mind. But, maybe it will take you by surprise. Sometimes, great connections can happen out of the blue with the people we least expect.

What will happen the next time you see this person? Join me on Patreon in the extended reading to find out

EXTENDED READING FOR PILE 4

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[hellfiremunsonn]

Something About Her. Steve Harrington x Reader

Something About her.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: Steve is kind of obsessed with you, and you're kind of obsessed with him. Only ever watching from afar until a fight breaks out at the party you're both at.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, physical altercation, reader gets backhanded by homophobic male character, brief mention of blood, forehead gets slightly cut, reader has a vagina, sex but not sex? No penetrative sex, fingering, Steve is called a f***** and a queer in a derogatory sense by a homophobic character at the party. (I will star it out anyway just incase any of you are uncomfortable with that) (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: Real quick, I don't condone using homophobic slurs towards anyone ever. This is not ME saying these things, it is a CHARACTER in the 80's saying those things. I myself am Queer so... ya know... I get it. NOT REALLY PROOF READ FOR MISTAKES JUST FOR THE VIBES (Huge thank you to my bby @rowanswriting for giving this a read through for me to make sure it wasn’t absolute garbage! love u <3)

Wordcount: 4k

Steve doesn't know when his fascination with you started, but he knows that once it did start he couldn't stop it. Anytime he was out at a party he was always looking for you. Subtly over the rim of his red cup, filled with whatever concoction that would get him buzzed the quickest. Personally he doesn't think it's stalking, because he doesn't follow you around any other time, but when he knows you're around, he's going to keep an eye out for you. Robin on the other hand, definitely thinks it's stalking and will make it a point to tease Steve about it whenever she can.

He's only talked to you a couple of times and the two of you wouldn't even consider each other friends but for some reason he always had to have an eye on you, and you always had an eye on him. 

Robin would constantly poke into his side and whispering about his "obsession" with you but he would just push her off and roll his eyes. Because someone as pretty as you would never look at him the same way. You were ethereal; Steve might actually believe it if you were from another world, considering he's had his fair share of experience of things that you'd think didn't exist.

He knows you watch him too. Praying you don't think it's weird for catching your eye one too many times, but being constantly enamoured by the way you move and speak, how you captivate everyone around you yet you're completely unaware of it. 

Robin decides that after watching the two of you eye fuck each other six more times that she's going to help. She skips over to you and you greet her with one of the brightest smiles he's ever seen.  The two of you talking together has four hands flying around with the dramatics of whatever story it is the pair of you have begun discussing and he's honestly surprised neither of you have hit one another in the face.

Steve still, stands with his back plastered against the wall, trying to ignore the dull thumping bass of whatever shitty music was playing, focusing hard on the way your lips moved, trying to get any sense at what you were saying. It takes him a minute to realize it's Robin you're talking to and he's more confused, zoning in on the way your tongue darts out to lick across your strawberry pink lips when he's interrupted from his thoughts by some beefy drunk, boy from high school trying to relive his glory days as he stumbles past him. 

He looks at Steve, looks at robin, and then back to Steve. He snickers "Damn Harrington, can't even get Robin to stick around with you? Maybe you are as queer as she is" he sways as he passes Robin and you. Robin freezes, before slowly looking back to Steve, praying tonight wasn't going to end with Steve beating someone up. Again. 

"Hey" Steves voice is loud, angry, startling almost everyone, despite how loud the music was. 

"Say what you want about me, but don't say shit about Robin alright?" Steve warns.

The drunken asshole makes his attempt to saunter up to Steve, getting far too close to his face before speaking "Or what pretty boy? Gunna get your boyfriend to come save you?" 

Steve can feel the hot air of his breath in his face, it reeks so badly of alcohol it almost smells like hand sanitizer. "Get lost man" Steve says shaking his head turning away from him, trying to distract himself from the prying eyes by above everyones heads, sipping his drink. 

What Steve doesn't notice is how ridged you've become and how hard your fists are shaking where they are clenched at your sides. 

He laughs, thinking he's won whatever show it is he's putting on for everyone and goes to leave before turning back to Steve. "F****t can't fight his own battles, what a pussy"

Before Steve can even fully turn around you've pushed past robin and are standing in front of the drunk, arm pulled back before your tiny fist makes contact with the dudes face. "What's your problem!" You yell.  Steve has never heard your voice so loud before. "You homophobic piece of shit? What decade were you born in saying shit like that?" Your hand hurts, like really bad, but you're too prideful to let him see you cry. No one is going to say shit like that about anyone around you, let alone Robin, or Steve. 

"Fucking bitch" he spits, blood filled saliva hitting the white tiled floor beneath your feet. His hand raises quick, and without a second thought he lands a single smack across your face with the back of his hand, and then walks away. You involuntary gasp at the impact, while the rest of the party goers shout and follow him but you can barely hear over the ringing in your ears, but you hope they beat the shit out of him outside. You feel a drip of blood form and start to slide down your face from where his large class ring made contact with the skin just above your eyebrow. Your hand trembles as it reaches up to touch the warm liquid before bringing your hand down to see your blood covered finger tips. 

When you look up, blurry faces stand around you, and they're all speaking at once, you're unsure where to look, or who to respond to when someone gently takes your hand, pulling you with them upstairs and away from the chaos below. Only when the click of the bathroom door locks do your senses start to come back and you realize you're standing in front of Steve Harrington and that tears had begun rolling down your cheeks.

At the same time you both blurt out "Are you okay?" and Steve laughs in amusement. 

"Am I okay? I'm not the one who sucker punched someone twice her size and is bleeding from her head!" he exclaims. He laughs again before muttering an "Oh shit" Grabbing at the nearest hand towel and running it under the faucet. "Come here, sit" he says patting the countertop. You watch him with wide doe eyes, pupils blown from the adrenaline coursing through you, but still you listen, slowly and a little robotically you lean against the counter, Steves large hand holding the side of your waist to help as you hop up onto the counter. He's talking, but you don't really hear him so instead you focus on watching him as he moves around the bathroom, finding things to help with the tiny wound on your forehead. 

He dabs the damp towel against your forehead quickly and abruptly. You wince and pull back, your two hands coming up to hold his wrist in place. 

"I'm sorry, shit, are you okay? I should have warned you first" 

"I'm sorry that guy said that" you say finally finding your voice, it's shaky and a little croaky but it's there. 

"Don't be, I've heard worse" he smiles and you let go of his wrist signalling to him that he can continue and so he does. "S'not so bad of a cut, just bled a lot cause it's on your head"

You laugh a little, and the relief Steve feels when he hears it skyrockets. "You've got quite the arm on you, more guys like him should be afraid of you"

You laugh again. "I've had some practice" you shrug and sniffle, pretending to play it cool. 

"Oh yeah? You beating up guys in the alleyways behind bars? Lemme see those guns" he pesters, lifting up the arm you used to throw your punch, and you flex it proudly. The muscle bulging and Steve gives it a squeeze. 

He wolf whistles. "Wow-ee that's some A plus muscle right there" he teases but short circuits when you look up at him. Mascara smudged just under your eyes from where the tears overflowed, cheeks rosy with a blush or from the adrenaline, he can't tell but his hand comes up to hold the side of your face anyway and he does everything he can to hold himself together when he feels you lean into his touch. 

"You're so pretty" he blurts, feeling the heat of your cheek under his palm when he says it. 

"So are you" you whisper. You can feel the trembling starting to begin in your bones as the adrenaline wears off, your body finally attempting to come down from the earlier altercation. Steve notices at the first twitch of your shoulder. 

"S-sorry" you stutter through your teeth as they begin to chatter along with the rest of your body. 

"Stop apologizing for things you can't control" he says taking your hands and placing them on the sides of his waist. He doesn't mean for it to be forceful or sexual when he does it, but his one hand comes between your legs and pushes them apart by your knees, positioning himself between them. "Here, hug me, it'll help with the shakes" He pulls you into him and you're thankful for the tightness of his arms around around you. You sigh into him, feeling the slightest bit of tension leave your shoulders. Steve notices and slides one hand to the back of your neck, pushing in just slightly at the base, massaging it until he feels your shoulders start to slump.

The groan that leaves you was almost pornographic, and Steve has to calm himself down immediately or you might be able to feel how much that little noise had affected him. Steve tried really hard, he did, but he's standing between your legs and you're so close to him that he knows if he shifted just a little you'd feel his dick press into your stomach. 

When the shaking starts to stop you lean back from him, head tilted up towards him but your eyes stay closed. Your hands still stationed on his hips, and Steve doesn't stop his fingers where they massage the base of your neck. 

"That feels really good" you sigh, eyes flitting open lazily. 

"Good" Steve says with a smile, his opposite hand coming up to push your hair back behind your ear. He watches as your eyebrows furrow slightly. 

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing" you lie. It's the adrenaline. It's like when you come down from a really big cry, and your body doesn't know what to do with all the feelings so it sends them between your legs, making everything in you ache for someone to touch you, for Steve to touch you. You shift on the counter, legs instinctively trying to close, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the insides of your thighs, teasing you. 

Steve can feel your heartbeat pick up from where his fingers are still pressed against your skin, and he's watching you with curious eyes. He can sense it, he knows, but he wont make a move unless you initiate it, anything, even if it's subtle. But you have to be the one to start it. With one too many run in's with the end of the world, Steve knows that sometimes when the adrenaline wears off the only thing you want to do is fuck.

"Is it your head?" He asks "Does it hurt?"

"It's not my head" you say as you shake it. "It hurts a little b-but I'm okay, really"

Steve hums, his pressing touch moving from your neck and you have to stop yourself from whimpering at the loss. 

"Look at me" he says and you do, eyes darting back and forth between his. "I just wanna make sure you don't have a concussion" he widens his stance, sliding his feet outwards until he's just about your height from where you sit, his big warm hands come up and cup either sides of your face while he assess you.

A loud crash followed by laughter startles the two of you jump slightly. Your hands grip onto Steves waist harder and he's moved forward so now the two of you are pressed together, and he can see it in your face when his stubbornly hard dick makes contact with you.

"Steve?" you say quietly, and he's already preparing an apology in his head. "Um I know we don't really know each other" You swallow thickly. "But um" you trail off, glancing to your hands and where they rest, thumbs slipping past the hem of his shirt, touching the warm skin of his belly. He inhales sharply, and you look at him mesmerized. 

"Are you sure you're not concussed?" he questions "Or did that guy really hit me instead and I'm unconscious having a wonderful dream right now?"

You giggle and his cock strains in his jeans. 

"I don't wanna have sex with you though" you say quickly. "I mean now, right now, I definitely want to have sex with you, I just, not in a bathroom at a party? I wanted to- shit" You scrunch your eyes closed and take a breath before looking back at him. "I wanted to ask you on a date first"

"You wanted to ask me? Me on a date?" Steve says quietly. 

You nod, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. So shy, yet so brave.

'I'm fucked' He thinks. 'I'm going to fall in love with her'

"C-can, we um, can we touch each other? Is that okay?" your hands hold him a little tighter and his stomach tenses. 

"Y-yeah, please, can I kiss you?" he asks desperately and you nod, your hands finally reaching up to cup his face. He grabs you by the hips and slides you closer to the edge of the counter, your old converse hitched on the sides of his waist, pressed against his brown leather belt. Your crotch now pressed against his jean covered cock, and he realizes you've been wearing a dress the entire time he's been stood between your legs, and only now has caught a glance at the pretty pink panties you wear. 

You whimper when he kisses you. His lips soft and plump just like you had thought they would be, and the tiny groan he lets out goes straight to your cunt and your hips jump ever so slightly. You kiss each other feverishly, sloppy and quick. Every kiss, every smack of your lips, every move of his tongue has your stomach flipping and your hips rolling into him. He's grinding into you without a single care, he could cum like this and wouldn't dare be embarrassed about it when you look like that under him. How could he not. 

He does almost bust his load immediately when your hands go for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tugging at the button and zipper until it's all the way down. He breaks the kiss to watch you do it. 

"Is this okay?" you ask, fingers dipped into the waistband of his boxers.

"You could do anything you want with me right now and I wouldn't care" He jokes. "So yes this is more than okay"

"Can you touch me too?" You ask with your baby Bambi eyes and god Steve nearly loses it. How can you ask him something so dirty but make it sound so sickly sweet. 

"God, yeah, of course I can sweet thing" he says sliding his hands up your thighs until he's under the hem of your red dress, it's covered in dainty little white flowers, and he thinks it looks perfect on you. He searches for the band of your panties before tugging at them until you shift, letting him slide them out from under you until they're dangling off your right ankle that is still stationed on his hip. 

His fingers slide easily through your slick and he groans. "Fucking christ"

You giggle again, sighing when he grazes your clit and your knees instinctively try to lock together.

"It's taking everything in me not to bury my face in your cunt right now Jesus Christ, look at her" he praises, watching his shiny fingers and the way they move against you, the way your hips twitch to meet them. 

"Her?" you ask.

"Your pussy babe" he says obviously.

Your entire body engulfs in heat, and you can't tell if you're embarrassed that he's talking about your pussy like it's a person, or if it's turning you on even more. 

"O-Oh my god" you say, your words slipping into a moan mixed with a gasp. Head tilting back until it hits the mirror behind you. 

"Jesus baby, let's keep your head intact alright?" he jokes, pulling you into him with one hand, placing it protectively on the back of your head as you bury your face into the crook of his neck while his finger traces your entrance. Your brain buzzes with electricity and you forget that just seconds before you were tugging at Steves jeans, but then he touched you. 

He circles your hole a few times, before easily sliding one of his fingers into you. You whine, open mouth, almost drooling where your mouth hovers against Steves skin. He leans back slightly, chin touching his chest to catch a glimpse at you to make sure the noise he heard come out of you wasn't a sob. But the thought of you crying because of his fingers? He can't imagine what it would be like to have you and your pussy crying on his cock.

"Feel good?" He teases. 

"So good" You moan, lifting your head from his neck, staring down to watch his finger curl into you. Forcing yourself to look away to continue your attention to his jeans. Hands shaky has they slip his belt through the loops, pulling at the button of his jeans and tugging the zipper down. You try your best to push his pants down enough to get your hand in so you can finally feel his cock but he's distracting. 

"F-fuck" you mewl, and it's high pitch and girly, and if you were alone you'd cringe at the sound. 

"Need some help?" Steve offers, stopping his movements and slowly removing his fingers from you, shiny and slick as he helps you to free his aching cock. 

"Thank you" you whisper. Once his cock is free you wrap your hand around him, thick, hot and heavy in your palm and he groans, tilting his head back a little before reaching a hand up to tap your cheek, ripping your gaze away from your hand to his eyes. 

"Open" hes looking down at you through his lashes, cheeks flushed a perfect pink and his chest moves quickly while you continue to jerk him off. You listen, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out and Steve huffs out a laugh as he slowly slides his two fingers into your mouth. The ones that were just buried in your cunt. You lap at them greedily, body buzzing from the approval when Steves hums in delight, head tiling to watch your mouth. 

You pull his fingers from your mouth with gasp. "I have an idea"

Steve raises a brow as you push forward until you slide off of the counter, turning around so your ass is how facing him, both of you looking at each other through the reflection of the mirror. Watching you as you lean your hips against the counter, pulling him towards you by his belt until he's almost touching you. Reaching behind you, you take his cock into your hand, stepping onto your tippy toes until its slid between your thighs, pressed against your leaking pussy. 

"Fucking without fucking" you say with a smile. Your hand presses lightly against him so the tip of his cock stays connected to you while Steve moves his hips. 

Sliding through your folds over and over as he mimics how he'd snap his hips against you if he were able to fuck you properly. It's probably the hottest things Steve has ever done with anyone, and he knows that he will think about this every single day until the day he dies, and he's absolutely content with that. 

His hands move to your hips, where he grips you tightly. Your dress sliding up with each thrust until the swell of your ass is exposed before him. Rippling with each thrust against his lower half, and he tries to stop himself, he does, but he can't. He lets his palm come down on your right cheek, a little harsh, and goes to apologize but the way your knees shake, and the moan that slips out from you tells him you liked it. 

"M'so c-close Steve" you force out. Your cheek is pressed against the cold marble top of the counter, and you're pretty sure you're drooling onto it but you couldn't care less with how good Steve is making you feel. "Steve I-" You can barely keep your legs up, but your trying. 

"Help" you whimper, and Steve knows what you need immediately. Wrapping a large arm around your waist, holding up most of your weight while still snapping his hips. 

"I got ya pretty girl" he mumbles into the skin of your shoulder. 

"Are you gunna cum Stevie?" You moan, silently begging he's as close as you are. 

"So close" he grunts. "Wanna see that face of yours when you cum, can you do that for me?" He asks sliding his hand into your hair until he's got a tight grip on the roots, tugging gently to instruct you to lift your head up. He doesn't want to be too rough with you just yet, not when you haven't properly been able to have that conversation. 

Lifting your head with his direction until you're forced to look at yourself and Steve in the mirror. He looks so pretty, face flushed, mouth slightly agape, his bottom lip slick with saliva. You could cry at how pretty he was. 

"Steve, Steve, st-eve, I'm gun-NAH!" you cum hard, all over your hand and his cock. Thighs trembling. 

"Fuck you're so hot" Steve mutters. "Gunna cum sweetheart where do-"

"On me, please I want it on me" You say almost frantically. Steve turns your around, helping you sit back up onto the counter so your legs are spread and he's stationed between them. Pumping his cock fast, the noise crude as it echos around the bathroom, slick with your arousal. 

"Fuck, fuck baby" Steve says through gritted teeth.

And you're smiling, and nodding, eyes glassed over and so fucked out, and he thinks he might marry you seeing the way you want him, and his cum so badly. He loses it when your hand joins his around him with those final few pumps, and his cum shoots across your stomach dripping down your connected hands to the base of his cock. 

He's panting and smiling, and trying to hold back a laugh, watching the way his cum drips down your body, down between the crease where your thigh meets hip, lazily flowing down to join the mess between your legs. 

You giggle, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you wait till Steve finally looks up at you. 

"You're insane" he laughs, grabbing your face with both hands and kisses you quick. 

"Only a little" you say between kisses. "Take me home?" you ask bravely. 

"Anywhere" Steve says quickly. he tugs his jeans back up, stuffing himself back into his pants, and adjusts his belt. You hop down from the counter and attempt to fix your hair so it looks a little better. Kicking one foot up behind you, you tug your panties off your ankle and turn to face Steve, shoving them into the front pocket of his jeans. Steve swoons at the sly look in your eyes, and the way you didn't even attempt to clean his cum off of you when the two of you turn to leave the quiet confines of the bathroom.

You giggle again when he interlocks his fingers with yours, letting him pull you along through the sea of people and out onto the front lawn down the street and only a few blocks away until you reached Steves house. 

"Yeah"  Steve thought. "I'm gunna marry her"

thanks for reading! <3

#hellfiremunsonn #Steve Harrington #Stranger Things #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x fem reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington stranger things #Stranger Things Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington fluff #Stranger Things smut #Steve Harrington fic #Steve Harrington x (Y/N) #stranger things fic

[spellbooking]

let me preface this by saying: you are allowed to have whatever pairing/ship you want. this post is not about saying you can’t nor should you feel bad for having them!

I will always use my blog as a means to advocate and boost queer material. But lately I’ve noticed the lack of engagement on queer tav x companion pairings. And it feels like it’s getting worse. It’s discouraging as a queer man who mainly ships men with men that a gif/art of Gale (or any other male companion) with a masc!/nonbinary tav will get 30 notes (if that!) in an hour but a headcanon or gif of a male companion with a fem! presenting tav will receive much more attention (100s of notes) within that same time period. For such an inclusive game, me and a couple other queer folks have come forward to say how excluded we are starting to feel. As someone who has a pansexual male partner, it is heartbreaking to see. I’m putting these in bullet points because it’s easier for me

• Gale, Wyll, Astarion and Halsin are NOT straight

• Gale, Wyll, Astarion and Halsin are PANSEXUAL

• Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, and Minthara are NOT straight

• Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, and Minthara are PANSEXUAL

• Just because a fem!Tav is paired with a male companion does not mean she is automatically straight. Stop erasing sexuality or assuming.

• Just because a masc!Tav is paired with a female companion does not mean he is automatically straight (I can relate to this one as I have a pansexual masc!Tav who is paired with SH and his sexuality gets swept under the rug)

The reluctance to engage with queer tav x companion media is discouraging and so disappointing. I know people will write g/n blurbs but honestly, upon reading them, they seem to weigh heavily towards AFAB individuals (if it’s about a male companion). I’ve seen blurbs be titled as g/n just to have an allude to AFAB individuals at the end. Queer pairings are much less likely to receive reblogs or engagement in this space and it’s baffling.

And honestly it’s even worse for nonbinary and trans individuals. You guys truly get the short end of the stick and I’m so so sorry. You don’t deserve that. But I am so tired of groups of people trying to claim these companions or claim what their “preference” is. Gale and Wyll are not “ladies men”. They’re just MEN. Even when these companions are headcanoned as parents, it’s conveniently forgotten that two men and two women can be parents. Stop claiming these characters as if they only prefer one gender. I literally made a gif of astarion kissing my male tav and it felt taboo because I RARELY see gifs of him kissing or engaging romantically with masc!Tavs.

The heteronormativity with these companions is frustrating. Us queer individuals are FRUSTRATED. I see it. I hear about it. People vent to me about it! The fact that people are so quick to give attention to fem!Tav x male companion or masc!Tav x fem companion but are so reluctant or give no attention to queer pairings is disheartening and I cannot sit by and not acknowledge this any longer. A lot of the fandom will preach equality and equal engagement but won’t even give said engagement? Please engage with queer content. Please reblog queer tav content. Please stop assuming sexualities of tavs. Please stop erasing sexualities of these characters. Stop excluding queer tav pairings from these narratives! All we’re asking for is equal engagement, please. We are tired, we are frustrated, please give us a voice too. And if you believe the companions cannot be with someone other than explicitly of the opposite gender, please block me.

#tay.txt #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #halsin silverbough #astarion ancunin #wyll ravengard #fandom critical #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #Halsin

[txtmetonight]

I know I love you ✆

call summary ⋆ ★ when a moment of realization flashes–and they know that they love you to the fullest of their heart

pairing *. * Ot5 TXT x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Fluff, slight angst in hyuka's

warnings *. Insecurities in hyuka's, bad grammar (semi-checked)

call duration⋆ ★ 2.6k

a/n*. * This was so fun to write lololol. also idk if anyone has actually noticed, but i'm slowly changing my format hehehe

taglist ⋆ ★ @kflixnet

Yeonjun’s eyes seem to blur, but he supposes that's because the practice room he currently resides in is starting to get to him, like he's hearing voices. The mirror in front of him is dusty, and it's quite a sad sight when he looks at himself—hair disheveled and messy, with his cheeks bitten red like a tomato. It's past midnight, and he knows he should be home, but he can’t find the heart to get up and leave.

The dance isn’t perfect, not to his liking, and it kills him inside as his feet get sloppy and arms start to flail in a nonsensical manner. His legs ache with strenuous pain, but he gets up one more time. Just once more, he promises himself.

Yeonjun knows very well that his words mean nothing but a lie. It’s a never-ending loop that he can’t free himself from. He forces himself up, and his fingers flinch to turn on the speaker. He's hovering over the button, but he can’t seem to move it away.

The clock reads 12:34 when he gets a shrill ring—it scares him half to death. Yeonjun stalks over to his phone and picks it up with a slight interest. It’s you, he realizes, and he doesn’t waste a moment's second to pick up the call.

“Choi Yeonjun, where are you?!”

He chuckles into the receiver. You're amusing, and his eyes crinkle. “Still at practice…” Yeonjun could almost see your grimace on the other side.

You sigh, “Are…are any of the boys with you? Or are you overworking yourself again?”

Choi Yeonjun looks at the empty practice room. He wonders if he should just fib, but for some reason, you've always been good at spotting his lies. You call it your girlfriend instincts; Yeonjun thinks it's pure bullshit. “

The latter,” he finally responds.

You go silent on the call at his words, and he pulls back his phone to make sure the line hasn't cut. It didn’t, so he just stares at your contact photo with a smile. You’re very pretty. But your next blabber is definitely not.

“Choi fucking Yeonjun! You better get your ass back home before I leave you to the streets! Do you hear me?! I am not letting you pass out again! By the time it turns one, you better be here, or I’m stuffing you into our next meal.”

This time you actually cut the call. Yeonjun knows the meaning of your threats and isn’t one to test them, so he hurriedly packs his duffel bag before he locks the door. And as he does, he knows that he’s so unequivocally in love with you—it hurts in a good way.

Choi Yeonjun realizes two things that night. First, you’re entirely scary in your way. And second, he wants to spend the rest of his lifetime and many more lives beyond that with you.

"You’re nowhere in sight. It’s quite unusual – really. Normally, you'd be situated on the couch, scrolling through your phone or reading a book, but for some reason, you aren’t there. Soobin carefully shuts the door and quickly comes to the conclusion of your disappearance; you’ve gone to sleep.

Honestly, he doesn’t blame you. He came home a little late from vocal practice and was tired himself. All he longs to do is cuddle up to your side, preferably forever. Yet he knew from his upcoming schedules that it was going to be a while before he gets his proper break with you.

Still, he smiles at the thought of it. He lets his feet round the corner to the kitchen where he grabs a quick drink of water before making his way to your shared bedroom. Soobin’s arms feel heavy, and his throat is scratchy from all the singing exercises earlier today. All he craves are the warm blankets, but he’s abruptly stopped in his daydreaming about sleep as his hand grasps the doorknob.

“The audacity of this girl!”

You’re not sleeping as he thought you were. And you’re cursing someone out – how interesting. Slowly as ever, Soobin opens the door to find you on your stomach with a computer right in your face, aggressively typing something on the keyboard. Your eyes are so focused on the screen that you don’t notice your boyfriend enter the room!

Taking advantage of your obliviousness, Soobin carefully toes his way to where you lie, just peeking over to see what got you in a twist.

Surprisingly enough, you’re writing a document-sized paragraph on Twitter. It’s filled with cruel words and language that he’s sure don’t comply with the app’s guidelines. He’s now filled with even more wonder.

“Hey honey… what are you doing?” he asks. You jump in your bed, accidentally smashing a couple of keys. Your eyes widen, and you punch a laughing Soobin. “What the hell! How long have you been there?”

He shrugs and takes off his jacket. “Long enough to question who you were bullying.”

You suddenly grow pink. “No… one?”

“Really?” Both of you know that he doesn’t buy the lie you try to feed him. So, you exhale in defeat and timidly stare at your fingers drumming against the computer pad. “Well, I dunno. Some girl was sending a hate train towards you, and I was just defending… your… name. I guess.” You grow quiet at the end, but it was loud enough for the boy to hear.

The silence in the air is loud, but before you could bury yourself in embarrassment in a heap of pillows nearby, Soobin bends to place a kiss on your cheek. He feels like he’s about to pass out, and as his stomach churns with its rollercoaster of emotions, he can’t help but feel an overwhelming feeling of love for you.

It expands in his heart and into his touch as he kisses you again – this time on your lips. He doesn’t know why, but his breathing starts to stutter when you kiss him once more, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt this time.

He relishes the warm feeling before his fingers slide to where your keyboard was pushed to the side. He presses post, and your giddy grin is all it takes for him to kiss your lips again, his hands cupping your face. Choi Soobin thinks that he’s stuck in a pool of undying love – but he’d rather drown than live if his heart wasn’t for you to kiss."

The house is quiet. Except for the quiet chatter of the TV and the slight hums of your voice, as you thread through Beomgyu’s hair.

It's gentle when your fingers softly scratch his scalp, and he feels himself falling into a state of relaxation, his heart thrumming vividly in his chest. Your legs swing next to him where he sits on the ground, playfully poking at his thighs in a comical tease, and you place loving kisses on his head, so tiny and feather-like that he must strain to feel them.

Yet, it makes him feel full and content, so much so that he's undoubtedly about to burst. Soon enough, a scene on the drama you two have been binging—filled with emotions—suddenly causes you to pause the show with a slight furrow in your brow. He looks at you curiously but knows exactly what you're going to say.

And he couldn’t be happier to indulge.

“Oh, that’s so stupid! Who in—what?!” you complain to him. Beomgyu doesn’t say anything but giggles at you. You’re entirely entertaining and quite endearing. As you rant and rant, Beomgyu notices that the strain in his jaw from earlier in the day—which he quickly attributes to being the loud one in the group, the mood maker—was slowly lessening. He could finally smile properly without such a painful toothache. So, he grins at you. You grin back, and it sends butterflies coursing down his throat.

Beomgyu also realizes that he hasn’t spoken once this evening. Yet he hangs onto every word you say, every little movement, every little quirk, and comes to the realization that you don’t expect him to chatter. You really don’t. And that’s what he supposes he really loves about you; that your words make up for his in the silence of times, and you don’t wait for him to do the same, for you know that he cannot.

Choi Beomgyu is a silent motor who dwells in the words of your love, where he will reside forever on.

Taehyun can’t help but glance at his phone, and it’s becoming increasingly frequent as time passes by. He tries not to let it interfere with his dance practice, but he really couldn’t help it. It’s like a magnet, drawing him in.

His friends notice, but they don’t say anything at first; they merely observe his odd behavior. But soon enough, their silence couldn’t be held anymore. Soobin breaks first.

“Is there something wrong with your phone?” he asks, pointing at the device that sits in a chair, right near where Taehyun has wiggled himself too. The boy in question perks up, his eyes flitting around the room, landing on each member before he turns back to Soobin.

“No,” he responds. Beomgyu scoffs at his obvious lying and points his arm at Taehyun’s phone. “Then why do you—” He then turns two fingers around and prods just in front of his eyes. “Keep looking at your phone!”

No one but Kai notices the tinge of red that flourishes on Taehyun’s ears, but his bashfulness could definitely be detected from the flustered smile that he delivers. “I don’t know what you guys mean.” Sure, he does. He was actually waiting for your daily afternoon text that you have yet to send.

Taehyun’s eyebrows furrow before he picks up his phone and scrolls onto your contact. The others sigh at his expense and leave him alone—most have an inkling about his unwarranted distraction, but Taehyun pays no mind to them. He’s on a very important mission.

Swift fingers dance across his keyboard before he shoots a very quick message. Taehyun’s very concerned by your lack of presence today, and his words are direct enough to show it.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Seconds later, several bubble pop up onto his screen. They seem to have a staring contest with Taehyun.

"Yeah. Open the door of your practice room. Kinda have my hands full :))"

The boy doesn’t hesitate to jog to the other end of the room and swing open the said door, to where, behold, you stand, with a great big smile and five plastic bags in hand. The sudden smell of food wafts through the area; and Taehyun doesn’t realize how hungry he really is.

You can tell too; you’d always had him figured out, however far you were from the love of your life. But he can’t stop staring at you until the boys come through and push him away. He guesses that they’ve smelled it too.

“Surprise! I figured that you guys could all take a break and eat lunch.” You press a chaste kiss to Taehyun’s cheek and push past him to put all of the stuff down. The other four boys rampage over to their own bags, screaming their thanks.

You just chuckle, but it slowly diminishes into a sweet smile when you find Taehyun still by the door. His eyes glow when they meet yours, and you gesture to sit next to you. “I love you,” he mouths. He decides that the way your cheeks puff and get red, or the way your lips curl, is what he wants to see in heaven. Or perhaps he’s already there.

It’s the small things, he supposes. The way you care. Like when you pour Beomgyu a drink and give Taehyun and Yeonjun your own food, insisting that you were going to shove it down their throats if they didn’t take it. Or when you ruffle Hyuka’s hair and adjust Soobin’s collar.

Later that day, Yeonjun carries thoughts. Thoughts that he whispers to Taehyun with a jolly grin after you leave on your merry way. “You better not lose her. I’ll kick you off the group if you do.”

Kang Taehyun has never believed in soulmates until you came along and stole his heart.

It’s another one of those days. Where light usually shone, it was covered in bleak clouds, ones that Kai couldn’t escape from however hard he tried. He’s stuck in forever darkness that seems to consume him whole, eating away at his heart.

The pain is unbearable; it brings forth a few tears from his eyes. They feel like acid against his skin, and he wishes to be free from the pain of his insecurities. His hair flops in front of him, and one could assume that he uses it like a mask, hiding himself away until only a shell remains.

Kai doesn’t like looking in the mirror – he has known that from the moment such dark weather clouded his sight. And so, his reflection is slashed, covered in blood he has never asked for. It’s quite horrible when it's about himself. Then it gets worse when it extends to his bandmates – his platonic soulmates.

And finally, when his wobbly thoughts traverse your way, his stomach aches, and his heart falls apart into puzzle pieces that cannot fit. He greatly wonders how you can even put up with him and his miserable attire. Kai thinks that he’s tired of himself – but why aren’t you? As a solution to his problems, he has holed himself in his room, but you have a different answer to his questions.

You give three swift knocks on the door, each loud and firm, before you unlock the door and enter. Kai doesn’t dare to look you in the eye, but he feels your glowing stare on him. He doesn’t know what to do but weakly rejects your advance.

“Just… just leave me alone,” he says.

You don’t respond. He tries again. “(Y/n), seriously! Please!”

This time, your strides stop. And nothing more. Kai questions if you’ve melted to the ground, but alas, you have not when you sigh and exclaim.

“I would, but our son misses you!” Pause. What? Kai shoots his head up, in a query that shoots confusion down his spine. Yet he feels that tinge of a chuckle in the back of his throat. How do you do that to him so easily? When he stares up at you, your hands are behind your back, and you’re pouting. He decides to ask his question.

“What are you talking about…?”

You grin at him and swing your arms forward to reveal a tiny penguin plushie. “Our son, of course! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about him?!” Kai shakes his head. “No, of course not.”

This 'son' of his was actually a prize that was won from an arcade game. You’ve officially adopted him ever since. “Well… he told me that he really misses you.”

You take a step forward and lean down towards him. Your eyes observe his face, and they take in the expanse of his beauty. He wishes to cower away, but you don’t let him as you take your son’s tiny flappy fins and put it on your boyfriend’s face.

“We hate seeing you cry, my pretty boy,” you say as you wipe away his tears with the soft fabric. They soothe his burns. At last, you put the plushie away next to him and lean a little closer, just where his heartbeat resides on his neck. It beats with yours.

“I love you.” You kiss his heart.

Huening Kai thinks that you’ve just mended his puzzle-piece heart into such a beautiful picture of his irrevocable love for you – bigger and more stunning than any masterpiece created on this cruel earth. And you deserve much more.

#txt x reader #k-labels #txt #tomorrow x tomorrow #tomorrow by together imagine #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together #Yeonjun x reader #Soobin x reader #Beomgyu x reader #Taehyun x reader #huening kai x reader #kpop x reader #kpop ff #kpop fanfic #kpop #huening kai #huening txt #txt taehyun #choi beomgyu #choi yeonjun #choi soobin

[1d1195]

Ding - Round 4

Read Ding here | ~4.7k words

Warnings: angst, fluff

From me: Sorry for the delay. Honestly, might be for the best. I know this is a little shorter but I think it will help spread out some of the plot points I have planned for parts 5 and part 6. I think it might be a little rush but I promise hope it will be worth it.

Summary: Cupcake wants a proper date. Harry wants a Cupcake for dessert.

Harry was fresh out of college when he took out a loan and bought the gym. It was a steal, an investment, and exactly what he wanted to do. He didn’t have a lot of staff—in fact, Harry taught a lot of classes, cleaned the showers and toilets as much as possible. He got Niall and Louis to help as well. Once he was settled a little more, he got his college roommate, Mitch and his girlfriend Sarah to help as well. His own little family. Niall managed it most of the time and while he still liked to teach classes and train with Louis, he hired a few more staff members (and honestly? Even though he hired a few custodians, he didn’t mind cleaning the bathroom every now and again). His family was his life and he tried to maintain a proper balance which required a certain number of employees.

But adding in the sweet girl that dinged his car threw him for a bit of a loop. A good loop.

Louis was insistent he focus more on his training. Any time not spent teaching classes or going over the paperwork in his office was spent training for his big fight. He was going to be boxing a guy from a few towns over; someone also undefeated. It was being publicized as their own state’s match of the century. Harry didn’t care truthfully about it. He just wanted to remain undefeated. Harry was competitive and he would rather never box again than lose his undefeated record. The added bonus of Driven getting more publicity wasn’t a bad part of the deal either.

Truthfully, the part where he might win $100,000 was also a bigger influence on him than he was willing to let on. The fame of the fight had sponsors and publicity, and more good stuff for him than he wanted to believe he could have.

Harry wanted to give his niece a substantial chunk of money to kickstart her college fund. But even still, he would have plenty to give her and then he would consider, finally, purchasing a house—which seemed silly because he nearly lived at Driven and if he wasn’t at Driven, he was at his mum’s...or Gemma’s with the baby.

But that pretty girl with an apron and sprinkles had him thinking about all kinds of future things. Like a house with a fence. A garden that they could have picnics in during the summer with a dog that needed to be walked two times a day but didn’t mind lounging with them among the flowers while they read. A massive kitchen where she would bake cupcakes for their little ones when they had birthday parties and—

No, he just wanted to win.

Maybe if he had lost at some point in his career he would have felt differently. But the “0” in the loss column made him cocky. He was good, and he knew it. Harry was smiling at his phone, a picture of his sweet niece smiling for the camera while he went over the bills for the current month. There was a knock right outside his office.

“Hey,” Niall smirked. “Your class is about to begin.” Harry was dreading it. They had chatted a lot more and gotten a lot closer than they previously were, but the class made him irrationally angry. Maybe it was the space and just knowing why she was there, that had him so grumpy. “Thought you would want to see her,” Niall murmured when he didn’t respond and also looked like someone pissed in his cereal.

He sighed, putting the bills into a folder for later. He thought about taking them home and dealing with them while he watched a show before bed. Since he’d been teaching her self-defense moves, he found himself riled and angrier than normal—especially after her class. It made it difficult to focus on bills and his calendar when she was there feeling unsafe. “Course I want t’see her,” he mumbled.

Harry stepped out of his office and headed to the room with Louis. She and Louis stood close together speaking quietly, like two old friends. She was smiling brightly, looking adorable as ever. Her T-shirt was bright blue. It said A Pinch of Sprinkles across the back and was littered with sprinkles like rain over the design. Louis caught Harry’s eye and then tilted his head toward him. She turned to face him. It was like a reflex and her smile was so bright, Harry couldn’t help but feel better than he did when Niall alerted him about the class. He felt all the anxiety and frustration leave his body and he headed over to her.

“Hey, Cupcake,” he put a hand on her arm gently giving it a friendly squeeze. “How was your day?” He asked.

She smiled in return. “Good, relaxing. I went to visit my dad.”

He thought so. He may or may not have spent his lunch hour being creepy and noted that her car wasn’t in the parking lot near A Pinch of Sprinkles. Nor was it there when he drove by in the morning on his way to the gym...and if he ran his four-mile cardio workout outside rather than on the treadmill to see her car still wasn’t there right around the four o’clock shift change then who would really know?

“S’nice,” he smiled. “How is he?” He asked.

She hesitated ever so slightly that if Harry wasn’t so focused on her, he might not have noticed. But before he could ask more about it, she simply nodded. “Good,” she offered. Harry needed to remember to circle back to that when they were alone. He wanted to know more about her family and why she seemed so guarded at times.

Which reminded him of what he really wanted to talk to her about. “Hey, Cupcake, would you want to—”

“Alright, let’s get started everybody!”

Harry was looking forward to “accidentally” punching Louis tomorrow during his training session. He sighed. “Stay a minute after class?” Harry asked and headed toward the front of the room.

“Since this is the second to last class, we always offer to have a bit of a celebratory send off the final class if you are interested,” Louis said knowingly. Harry was looking at the floor, then picked the lint off his pants. The grumpiness he felt with Niall returned rapidly. There seemed to be a long pause while the group decided if they wanted to celebrate next week. “Oh, thank God, love,” Louis sighed causing everyone to laugh. “You don’t want Harry or I baking for the masses.”

“I can make cupcakes,” she promised with a giggle.

Harry looked up realizing she was offering her kindness to a bunch of strangers, bonded through their own traumas and the need to feel empowered because of it. His lips curled into a smile. Even though he was still a bit frustrated. It was kind of her to offer. He wasn’t surprised. Someone that worked with sugar that much had to be sweet.

“Can you make the chocolate chip ones?” Someone asked.

“The blueberry lemon ones are my favorite, it’s a shame they’re a summer flavor.”

“I can...” she laughed lightly, and Harry felt so warmed by the sound; all the frustration he felt melting off him. “I can make a list before we leave.”

Harry truly thought there was no one sweeter.

It killed him she was in this class learning to protect herself. Especially now that he knew why. But as mad as it made him, he was so happy to see her. Having her in the class was just more time he got to look at her and note how beautiful she was. Her strength, her resilience, all these qualities he instantly admired as he got to know her more and more. That first night where she dented Clay seemed like ages ago, not months. He was wound around her finger, and he didn’t care.

They went through the moves they learned the weeks prior and discussed more scenarios. Harry had Louis help her more when she needed it. Frankly, it was too hard for him to do it without getting irrationally angry. “You want t’make sure you’re continuing t’practice these moves even after the lessons end,” Harry told the group as their time was ending for the night.

“So, we should be fighting our significant others over the dishes?” Someone called from the back of the room. It caused everyone to laugh once more, and Harry chuckled.

“No, not what I would suggest,” he snickered and even though there were at least fifteen other people in the room, Harry could pick out her giggle among everyone else’s.

“We’ve discussed a lot of reflexive moves and how a lot of the fight back instincts that take over don’t always help you get away,” Louis continued. Harry’s face returned to its neutral position. Although if she was asked, it was one of the sourest expressions she saw on him. But she was intently listening to Louis repeat the spiel once more. “Remember that’s your goal: to get away and find help as quickly as you can and as safely as you can.”

Harry didn’t dare look at her.

*

She stood next to Sarah’s desk taking down orders for their celebration the next week. It was a long list. Harry wasn’t a baker nor the owner of a bakery, but he knew that if they came to her store, it would have cost a pretty penny to sell all that was listed on her slip of paper.

“I can pay for it,” Harry offered coming to stand in front of her.

“Oh God, no. Don’t you dare,” she smiled and shook her head. “You’ve made all of us feel so safe and so empowered. It’s the least I can do—besides, it’s almost blueberry lemon season so I need to practice anyway,” her shrug was casual as she crossed out different parts of her list and added tallies to the other parts. “Maeve and I can handle it. I usually end up giving the leftovers to a homeless shelter anyway, or the nearby nursing home.”

Harry wondered if she was magic. Made of flour and sugar herself that was dipped into all her treats at that bakery and decorated with a pinch of sprinkles. There was simply no one as sweet as her. He was certain.

She watched as Harry’s eyes softened around the edges as she spoke. It felt warm and nice to look at Harry so intensely. He was so handsome and so kind to her. No one had made her feel so safe in ages. Not even Louis who propped her hands and feet into their proper positions and told her how to execute a stomp to someone’s instep.

“Cupcake, do you want to—”

“I’m sorry, Harry, one second,” she held her hand up toward him and turned her attention to a girl from their class. “Did you say Jack?” She asked.

Harry tilted his head curiously but watched as the recognition on the girl’s face blinked in surprise. “Uh...yeah?” She held her phone out to show a picture. Harry watched as her whole body stiffened and she glanced away. “Why?”

She bit the inside of her lip. “Look, I don’t want to prevent you from having a nice time, but he tried to force me back to his place. I would feel horribly guilty if I didn’t tell you. Maybe it was just a me thing. But I think I would like to know ahead of time. He’s why I’m here, taking lessons,” she looked at her pleadingly. “One girl to another,” she offered. “That’s all I want to say. I’ll mind my business now.”

The girl looked back and forth at her then the phone curiously. Her friend was silent.

Harry was shaking again. His hands clenched into fists. He saw the picture of him. He tried to place him in her bakery the other day and couldn’t identify where he was. Harry stalked off toward the back room without another word to her or the other ladies.

His focus was on making his way for the punching bag as quickly as he could to release the stress and anger he felt. He didn’t get to hear the rest of the conversation, nor did he want to. He hoped that girl took her advice and didn’t go out with him. It would serve that sorry excuse for a man right, and of course, most importantly, keep her safe. Harry would lose his mind if he found out he hurt someone else the way he hurt his sweet sprinkle girl.

His breath was a series of uneven pants. Not the regulated breathing he practiced while he trained with Louis. His emotions and frustrations clouded his head taking over instinctively. When he finally ran out of breath with one final punch he stopped, held the punching bag, and rested his forehead against it trying to relax his breathing.

Softly, she cleared her throat. Harry blinked, his eyes opened and turned to the sound. “Sorry,” she whispered. He steadied the swaying bag and looked at her, his eyes intense and as focused on her as ever. “I know you...” she sighed. “I had to tell her.”

He nodded. “I know.”

She paused awkwardly standing in the doorway. “I’m okay,” she offered. “Actually... I’ve learned at least five ways to incapacitate you to get to the front and tell Sarah to call 911,” she smiled weakly hoping it would make him smile.

It didn’t.

Biting the inside of her lip, she felt a wave of anxiety come over her. He was too mad right now. She should have just left. “Do you want the raspberry filled?” He continued to stare at her. Unspeaking, unmoving. Her heart felt sad that he didn’t want to talk to her any longer. “Um... okay... I guess... I’ll see you around, then, Harry.”

It felt like he was holding his breath until that moment and then released it as if all the air in his lungs had been there since the day, he met her and whooshed out of him for a good thirty seconds. “Cupcake,” he murmured running a hand over his face. She turned back, stood far away from him as she could without being in the other room. “I’ve been trying t’ask you on a date all night—well, for days really. And... s’jus’ not the right time—never the right time. We keep getting pulled into other conversations. Or training or your timers for cookies. Then m’mad or m’tired or—”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Harry stopped speaking. This time he thought he had stopped breathing altogether. “Yes, what?” He asked.

“I would love to go on a date with you,” she answered. Her cheeks were pink—he could see how flushed she was by the concept.

“You would?”

“I’m glad you’ve been doing the repeating lately,” she smiled.

“Are you sure, Cupcake?” He ignored her joke. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable; and I know I’ve been a lot... Plus your last—”

She closed the space between the two of them and pressed her lips to his cheek. He tasted like salt from the sweat that poured over him throughout the day. He was in desperate need of a shower. “I would really like to go out with you, Harry,” she repeated softly. “Whenever you want.”

Harry swore his heart skipped a beat. “Yeah?”

She nodded, still smiling. “I would really like that,” she promised. Harry sighed with relief.

“Tomorrow? I’d like to take you t’dinner,” he offered.

She nodded. “I would also like that,” it was the happiest she ever felt in her whole life.

The guilt of it was overwhelming.

“Good night, kitten,” he cooed softly.

“Night, Harry,” she headed for the door again. Harry watched, smiling after her as she turned in the doorway. She leaned against it, her hand pressed to the frame, and she tilted her head against it. “You’re going to kiss me, right? After our proper date?”

Her smile was so pretty, Harry felt light-headed. “I hope so, Cupcake.”

*

Harry did kiss her.

In fact, he kissed her so much they didn’t even have dinner at the restaurant. He could hardly stand how pretty she looked he couldn’t leave her doorway when she opened it. She had spent the better part of an hour fixing her hair into a perfect style rather than the stringy, rainy mess he saw the day he met her. Or the way her hair was almost always up and out of her face to deal with baked goods. She put on extra makeup too. She felt beautiful—but Harry’s reaction made her feel... gorgeous.

He put a hand over his heart and smiled, stepping back a pace to take in how beautiful she looked. She laughed at his dramatics. “Wow,” he tapped his hand over his heart. “I thought y’were beautiful with the apron and sprinkles.” She laughed; her pretty cheeks turned pink. He put his hand against the top of the doorframe and leaned in toward her.  “M’not going t’make it through dinner, Cupcake,” he shook his head. “Can I kiss you now?” His eyes were soft.

“Now?” She whispered back.

He nodded his eyes focused on her lips. “Repeating again?”

“What about dinner?”

“I’ll take y’after.”

Honestly, she didn’t think there would be an after if they didn’t go now. Harry looked unbelievably good. He wore a pair of dress pants and she had only ever seen him in sweats and shorts. Those did things to her heart that she didn’t know the dress pants would do. His button down was tucked into his pants, and he looked like he was ready for an interview. He was so handsome.

“I’m pretty hungry now,” she told him, her eyes dancing flirtatiously.

“Me too,” he answered and leaned closer. His forehead rested against hers. She could feel the exhale of his breath against her skin. “May I kiss you, Cupcake?” He asked. She nodded breathlessly. He shook his head. Rested a hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him. “You have t’say it, kitten,” he encouraged softly. “M’not messing around with this,” he assured her. “I’ll give y’anything y’want, but y’have t’say it,” his voice was so gravelly and low she felt it in every inch of her nervous system. She shivered involuntarily and nodded again.

“Please kiss me,” she whispered so quietly he barely heard her.

But he did hear her. Harry would give her anything she wanted so he pressed his mouth over hers, and it felt like he was supposed to kiss her. The way her lips felt against his, the exhale of her breath against his skin. It all felt so perfect. His hands rested on her hips, and he tugged her closer to him, so she pressed snuggly against his body. Her hands came up to the sides of his neck, her fingertips curling to the back of his head and sliding into his hair.

“Your hair is so soft,” she whispered when they broke apart for air. Harry chuckled and kissed her again, his lips slotting between hers and he brought an arm around her back leaning toward her, so she tilted back just so slightly. “Can we go inside?” She whispered.

“Do you want me inside?” He asked against her lips.

She nodded quickly. “Very much.” Harry didn’t break from her lips to push her inside the doorway. She slipped out of her shoes; shoes Harry didn’t even get to look at because he was so distracted by how much he wanted to kiss her he couldn’t take in the rest of her and how pretty she looked. He took a moment now to note her dress, all black with some buttons and a tie sinched around her waist. It fell to just below her knee but left room through the slit for him to see part of her thigh.

She was stunning.

“God, Cupcake, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured went back to kissing her. His hands roamed over her waist making her insides turn to mush wherever he touched her. She shivered again letting her tongue run over his lower lip as he kissed her. He groaned into her mouth. Her hands held onto his belt loops, tugging him closer to her. She could feel the way their kiss was affecting him. It made her want more to feel his arousal.

“Can I...?” She swallowed pulling from his lips and her hand started for the front of his pants.

“Oh fuck,” he croaked.

“I...” she looked at him nervously. He made consent sound so sexy but she felt stupid for asking.

“Yes,” he nodded firmly. “Whatever y’want, Cupcake, m’all yours.”

For whatever reason she thought of Niall saying how Harry was whipped for her when they hardly knew each other. He called Harry her boyfriend and now she wanted to take his belt off and rip his pants off.

Was it too fast? She didn’t let Jack take her home and she knew him about as much as she knew Harry at the time. Was she overreacting? How could he ruin this moment even though...? How come—

“Cupcake?” Harry asked quickly. “Y’okay there, sweetheart?” He asked softly. She blinked in surprise, realizing she spaced out as her thoughts reeled. Harry was holding her face gently. “D’you want to stop?” His pants were unzipped and unbuttoned—she didn’t even realize she had done that. Her fingers tucked into his beltloops once more, ready to pull them down further. The Calvin Klein band poked out from his shirt and the shift of his pants falling lower on his hips. Harry was staring at her nervously. Her gaze was blank as she looked back at him; as if she was unsure of her own actions. “Kitten?” he repeated and removed his hands from her face. He tugged her fingers loose of his loops. “Can y’talk t’me please?” He asked, separating them a bit more. He pulled his pants back up, zipped and buttoned them. “You’re making me nervous, Cupcake...” he trailed off eyeing her uncertainly.

Her heart felt sad for him. He was so gentle, so nice, so careful. He steered her to the couch, putting space between the two of them. The only part of him that touched her was his knee bumping into hers. “Sorry,” she whispered, finally.

Relief rushed through him at the sound of her voice. “There’s nothing t’apologize for, Cupcake,” he promised reassuringly.

“But you’re—” Her eyes looked at the bulge against the zipper of his pants. He shrugged.

“S’not important.”

She disagreed strongly. That bulge nearly made her mouth water but as much as she needed her brain to focus on it, her mind had other ideas. “I just... need a minute,” she leaned back against the sofa and sighed. She stared at the ceiling, her hands covering her face. Harry was hot. He was so kind. His lips tasted like sunflower oil—perhaps it was his chapstick. He smelled so good and looked so good. It was unfair that someone from nearly a month ago could continue to ruin her date.

“You can have all the time in the world, Cupcake,” he continued to assure her so soothingly, it made her heart melt. “Did I do something—”

“No,” she shook her head and looked him straight in the eye. “You didn’t do anything,” she promised.

He sighed with relief and leaned back beside her and smiled. “Good,” he draped an arm along behind her head across the back of the couch and kissed her temple. “Take your time, Cupcake. M’not going anywhere.”

She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat trying to break her esophagus open wide. “He ruined it,” she whispered.

“Ruined what, sweetheart?” Harry’s voice was so soft. Like the way it felt to snuggle in bed on Christmas Eve when she was little. It was so comforting. It made her feel safe. She sniffled and turned her face away from where Harry was.

“Our first date.”

“No, he didn’t,” his voice was still soft, but the tone was firm. He was certain when she very much wasn’t.

“But I want to—”

“I know, Cupcake.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Do I want t’have sex with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met before we go to dinner?” He asked bluntly. “No, sounds like a terrible waste of m’time.”

She blushed, closed her eyes; still turned away from him. “I don’t know who this most ‘beautiful woman’ is you’re talking about. I just see a snively baby.”

He snorted. Gently he coaxed her to turn her around and look at him again. His expression was still gentle, and she was sure he wanted to be mad. She wondered what kind of self-control that took. Maybe it was the Oxytocin covering for him.

“Show me,” he murmured.

“Show you?” She repeated.

Harry smiled. “Practice.”

“Practice what—oh. Oh,” she looked at him in confusion. “You want me to practice my self-defense moves?”

“I like when y’repeat me,” his eyes were warm, smiley on their own.

“I’m wearing a dress.”

“Look, I could say m’dying t’know what’s under your dress if that will make y’feel better.”

“Harry!”

He pushed off the sofa and moved the coffee table toward the side of the room. He grabbed her hands pulling her up, so she was standing in front of him.

“Well, t’be really honest, Cupcake. You’re not going t’have much say in the matter of what you’re wearing if y’need t’use the moves,” he reminded her gently, he cupped the side of her face and looked into her eyes as if his life depended on it. She gulped in response. He was so intense. It made her forget every one of the moves she was supposed to practice. “C’mon, it’ll make you feel better...and me, honestly.”

“You?” She questioned.

He didn’t even comment that she repeated him. “Want t’know you’re safe, Cupcake,” he skimmed his thumb along her cheek. “Always.” She grabbed his hand against her cheek and smiled at him.

Then swiftly she pulled his arm behind his back and twisted it up. He chuckled peering at her over his shoulder. “Good. Again.”

*

After a while of practicing her moves, Harry ordered pizza. He took his jacket off and described a series of moves she could try that she hadn’t learned in the class. She took them seriously; the little pucker of her brow made her so adorable—Harry wanted to kiss her.

“Let me make brownies,” she offered heading to the kitchen and mixed the ingredients within minutes of opening her cabinets. It took maybe ten minutes and soon her place smelled like brownies. Once the pizza was delivered, she pulled out seltzers that Maeve left behind after a girls’ night in. She put on a reality show about baking that she watched two years ago when she was sick with the flu. “The cake challenge is my favorite part,” she told him.

Harry had his arm around her, her body slumped into his embrace, and she snuggled deeply against him. He was so happy to be curled up on the couch with her. It was like they had watched TV together for their whole lives. Had been spending date nights in for twenty years. It made him unbelievably at ease.

Eventually, without realizing, they fell asleep on the sofa. Harry woke up with a slight strain in his neck that he was certain Louis would be pissed about, but the sight of her sleeping beside him made him smile. He scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the bedroom. “Are you kidnapping me?” She yawned.

He chuckled, kissed her temple. “No, Cupcake. Putting you on the bed. Want you t’be comfortable. I’ll go back on the sofa.”

“You don’t want to sleep with me?” She pouted.

He chuckled. “I do,” he promised. “Do you want me to sleep with you?”

She nodded. “Do you have to work tomorrow?”

“No,” he shrugged. “Do you?”

She shook her head. “Do you want to stay here?”

“Always, Cupcake. Always.”

taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissinthekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl

@michellekstyles @just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows

@hannah9921 @fangirl7060

ding: @ell0ra-br3kk3r

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles blurbs #harry styles imagines #harry styles x y/n #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #ding #boxerry #boxer au #boxer!harry #one direction #one direction writing

[obsessedwithceleste]

Mattheo Riddle Headcannons

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Being the son of the Dark Lord is no easy task. Obviously.

Growing up, Mattheo had very limited contact with other people, which stunts his social skills a lot, especially with his peers

Once he breaks out and has the ability to meet other people, he's 100% an extrovert because he feels like he has to make up for everything that he missed out on

Growing up alone though made him very independent and self sufficient

Lots of trust issues, lots of abandonment issues

But he's also very bad at picking up on social cues, and reading other people's emotions

He grew up being outwardly judged by everyone around him, which caused him to develop a sort of apathetic attitude as a buffer

This gives him a sense of freedom because if he doesn't care about other's opinions, he can do whatever he wants, they'll judge him either way, so why not do what makes him happy

Mattheo also has a deep internal rage

Like, level 11 out of 10 on the scale of anger issues

He bottles up all his emotions and frustration with the world, often lashing out and exploding at the smallest triggers

His frustration mostly stems from the fact that it's not fair that he's suffering for the actions of his father. Because at the end of the day, he's still innocent in all of it

This is also why he's particularly spiteful and disdainful of authoritarian figures

He simply doesn't owe them anything

At Hogwarts it's hard for him at first. It's pretty clear that he didn't have much of a childhood and that he was forced to grow up much too fast

And once again, he finds himself being judged by everyone, so nothing new

His biggest pet peeve is when someone complains about a minor "tragedy" from their childhood, because he's absolutely certain that he had it worse

Lowkey victim complex™️

He's able to eventually bond closely with Theodore Nott, sharing a lot of similar childhood trauma (we <3 trauma bonding) and surprisingly Lorenzo Berkshire who shares his fuck-all mentality

Many assume that he's a malicious bully, based solely on his last name, but he's really more of a chaos instigator

He rebels against authority and stands up for what he might find to be an injustice, but he'd never go after someone without cause

Hogwarts is one of the first places he's able to truly act his age

He joins the Slytherin quidditch team,

He's a beater (which is kind of therapeutic as it allows him to let out a lot of his anger)

Often skives off of class,

He's not book smart like Theo, but makes up for it with street smarts

And likes to pull Theo into the fray simply because he can

This is also how he gets his reputation for frequently sleeping around to put it nicely

Mattheo grew up with a distinct lack of affection from those around him which causes him to search out any hint of it that he can find

He doesn't really use girls per se, he just doesn't quite understand the concept of love

But when Mattheo falls, he falls hard

The first time he catches feelings, he's absolutely terrified that he's under the influence of a love potion

Very confused, very upset, and denies it to the ends of the Earth

But once he comes around, he's all in

He doesn't like to think of himself as jealous, just territorial.

Jealousy is when something isn't yours and you want it. But you belong to him, and he'll be damned if he doesn't defend his territory

He also isn't shy at all when it comes to PDA, simply because he wants everyone to know what's his

Definitely love bombs, but he doesn't know what that means

Won't bat an eye before hexing someone for looking at you too long (will act innocent and pretend it wasn't him)

Honestly probably would not be the best partner initially because he's so used to being independent

And would likely try to hide a lot of his anger and emotions from you because his biggest fear would be being judged by someone he loves

It would take a lot of time and effort to work through, but Mattheo would be willing to put in the work because he's determined to have the one thing his father never could

#slytherin boys #slytherin #matteo riddle #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle headcanons #harry potter universe #my boy desperately needs therapy

[mammomlette]

OBEY ME YOUNGER BROTHERS AS SOULMATE TROPES!

Includes: Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, GN!Reader/MC

Warnings: Spoilers for lesson 16 in Belphies (not explicitly said but obvious foreshadowing for a twist), implied manipulation (Belphies) (not sure if that needs a warning but better safe than sorry)

Notes: I’m still quite new to fanfics and Tumblr, and honestly just writing in my free time in general so constructive criticism is defo encouraged!! Also I won’t lie to you, Satan did seem a tad ooc erm…

SATAN: writing/drawings on hands appear on eachother

* As soon as you turned 18, you noticed small phrases and notes appearing on your right hand

* It started off with small things like “page 562” or “British shorthair.” Just things to keep as a reminder or to be able to search it up later

* However, as time went by, the notes became a bit more… concerning

* Concerning book quotes from old literature, sometimes in other languages, and nefarious plans to prank someone called ‘Lucifer’

* Your soulmate plans to prank the devil himself. Haha. What a great idea.

* You brushed it off for a while, appreciating the occasional cat fact or chapter reminder and just ignoring the angry words about Lucifer.

* Eventually, you began to build up the courage to respond. Small things relating to things your soulmate wrote, like cat doodles (good or bad as your art skill may be) or going over the writing of the reminder when you notice it started to fade

* Not knowing if it was your place to write down your own notes or just not quite having that amount of bravery, you still did those little things to let your soulmate know that hey, you’re there and you’re always reading what they have to say.

* Satan thought he was hallucinating.

* Thousands of years spent just jotting things down to remind himself of things at a later date, frequently on his hand, and suddenly things started to change?

* He had wrote “British shorthair” on his palm in hopes of being able to look it up later, and a few minutes later he looks down to his palm to search it up and sees a… cat?? It’s really not clear. It’s round, with two points on the top of its head… yeah thats a cat.

* He’s become so obsessed he’s hallucinating badly drawn cats, which is probably a cause for concern, so naturally he confides in his brothers about this and is comforted that no he’s not hallucinating, however cats are just randomly appearing on his hand.

* They continue to appear, circles with two triangles, some looking better than others and some with more odd features likes birthday hats or weird outfits

* He finally decided to read up on what could be happening and was quickly met with the term ‘soulmates’

* He had heard of this a long time ago from one of his brothers while he was still young (for a demon) and brushed it off as a fairy tale. Why had his soulmate only started communicating with his just now?

* He moved on eventually and time passed, a new human being introduced to his home and his family.

* It took an embarrassingly long time to realise that his human was also his soulmate, it wasn’t until you were both just chilling in his room and you were doodling something next to some words on your arm that he noticed a cat appearing on his own arm.

* “Look! The cat thing is happening!” He shouted, a lot more emotion out into it that he would’ve liked due to the sheer shock

* You stopped what you were doing and look at his arm, the cat drawing having ceased its being drawn while you stared at the cat, face turning into shock and then seriousness. Because that is the cat that you just drew.

* “Satan.” You said, just staring into his eyes without any expression

* “Yes, MC?” He responded, worried at your monotony. His mouth then gaped open and you showed him your arm, cat half doodled next to the words “page 236, sticky notes needed”

* You both just made dead eye contact for a second before your eyes both began to flick back and forth and your lips slowly started to quiver

* Both of your sweet laughters filled the room, how ironic that such a common book trope would be what flew under Satan’s nose for so long.

ASMODEUS: soulmate telepathy

* Ever since you turned 18, you had been hearing a voice in your head.

* Not necessarily in a concerning way! In the way it happens when you and your soulmate have both turned 18 and can finally communicate.

* At first, you thought that you were hearing things. Things like “Ooo, this would be a great touch to my outfit! ♡” and “Can’t believe my bath wasn’t 3 hours long today…” flooding your mind. Since when were you SO picky about your clothes and hygiene, even when not in the process of dressing or washing? And since when were your baths 3 hours?

* Quickly though, you realised that this voice wasn’t your own. It was a melodic sounding voice that felt like honey and most definitely did not belong to you.

* You had heard from your family growing up and your friends recently that once you had become an adult you would be able to communicate with your soulmate through your thoughts, proof of the bond your souls shared, thoughts intertwining together.

* You found that whenever you were deep in thought and rambling to yourself you’d be met with a “hon, slow down” in your mind or that whenever you were trying to figure out an outfit your soulmate would chime in to offer their expert advice without hesitation

* No hesitation at all, because Asmo had waited his entire life for this.

* Thousands of years of life believing that he had no soulmate, destined to forever be a player

* So long spent reading and gushing over cute romance stories where soulmate meet and finding comfort in romcoms about that very topic, and here he was finally with his own soulmate in his mind

* The way you would thank him for his advice before his mind went quiet from your thoughts again until you later told him how well everything went and the way you would ramble internally to him without even realising you were connected to his mind made his heart flutter, even without your face your voice and soul were beautiful

* One day he had been summoned alongside his brothers to the student council room to welcome the new human exchange student. It was a hassle that could be spent doing something more productive like his skincare or extra time in the bath, but he was still just so excited he had to tell you how excited he was to meet the new human!

* “New human?” You thought, but had no response from your soulmate before you appeared inside of a council room in front of 5 attractive strange men.

* You panicked and were kind of in autopilot mode as a tall man in all red introduced you to your situation and a slightly-less-tall man in black started to introduce you to his brothers

* You still had small responses in your shock, and a certain demon recognised your voice.

* You were immediately snapped out of autopilot when you heard the voice of the second brother you were introduced to, an admitted handsome man with slightly-pink-tinted light brown hair and stunning orangeish eyes said “Oh come now. Really? You should be that you get to introduce such a sweet and charming little brother like me!” And you froze.

* You looked like a deer in headlights to lucifer who was trying to introduce you to a blonde demon, but to Asmo, you looked like the most beautiful creature to ever walk the three realms (asides from himself, naturally) and the only person worthy of him.

* Asmo saw beauty in everyone, but everyone else paled in comparison to your face in this moment and your voice every other previous time he had heard it.

* He looked at you with knowing eyes and your eyes finally softened from your shocked face, finally understanding what he meant earlier by “new human”

* It would take time for you to get used to being in a new world with a demon as your soulmate, it would take time for him to get used to loving someone more intimately than as lust, but you both had eachother and the bond that ties your minds together and that’s all you needed.

BEELZEBUB: you share (some of) your soulmate’s pain

* It was growing unbearable.

* The slight yet constant ache in your stomach, a pit that was never quite full.

* For years you mistook it for your own hunger, not sure if you should be eating more or not

* It was always there, always something that disctracted you whenever you were left alone in silence or trying to sleep at night, always waiting for you to finish a meal just to make you feel that familiar ache again.

* It was just insufferable.

* It wasn’t just the hunger, though. There would be times where your muscles would ache like you had been working out without a proper cool down or your arms felt like they had bruised from defending or blocking against something

* You inquired with your friends about this and were just told that it would be your soulmate. You shared pain with your soulmate, and your soulmate always seemed in pain

* It wasn’t a pain that came from attacks or falling, just a pit that always felt so empty it hurt but could never be filled.

* Was your soulmate starving to death? You wished there was a way to help them, to soothe the pain, but without knowing who they are there was no way to fix it.

* As of present, you had been sent into the devildom a few weeks ago and had began to slowly feel adjusted to the devildom and your roommates and you had grown fond of one in particular: Beelzebub, the avatar of gluttony.

* You sympathised with him and his constant hunger since you yourself always felt a small bit of this hunger, even if you’d learnt by now that it wasn’t yours to fix

* So naturally, you hung a round him more

* You spent time with him whenever you could just because you wanted to, accompanying him to the gym or treating him to Hell’s Kitchen or even just sitting with him when he was lonely and missing his brother who had gone to the human world

* And it felt like every time you gave him the food you were craving so much, that pit in your stomach was filled just a bit

* Always there, never going away, but it felt just that bit more bearable and ignorable for a short while

* Who knew you were such an empath?

* Of course it crossed your mind of that Beel could be your soulmate, but what are the chances? You dismissed the thought whenever it appeared, not wanting to get your hopes up

* However, your hopes were validated one night in the kitchen with Beel.

* You were preparing him a small snack, just cutting up some devildom-style bread for him when you accidentally put your finger down at the wrong time in the wrong place and cut it

* You hissed at the pain, putting down the knife to look at your finger and you thought you heard Beel grunt.

* “MC, are you okay?” He inquired, approaching you to look at your finger while slightly cradling his own for some reason

* “Uh, yeah, I just need a plaster or something, would you mind..?” “Yeah, of course.” He continued to clutch his finger while reaching for the cabinet, letting go for a second to open it and grab you a plaster

* “Are you okay? You’re holding your finger too.” You were slightly worried by his mannerisms even though you didn’t see a cut on his fingers.

* “Yeah, my finger just hurt all of a sudden. It’s fine though. Here, I’ll put the plaster on for you.”

* You fell into comfortable silence as he opened the plaster and began pressing in down, but he pressed down a bit too hard which hurt you, causing both of you to hiss.

* “Seriously Beel, are you okay?” He nodded. “Yeah, it’s just like whenever you get hurt my finger hurts too.”

* Lightbulb. You realised finally that those slight considerations were valid and the connection you felt with Beel was real. The hunger you felt wasn’t yours and the reason it was numbed when you gave him food is because it was his.

* He seemed to have realised this too, because he paused and looked at you, slowly smiling.

* “MC, I just realised something. I think that-“ you cut him off with a kiss, smiling now too.

BELPHEGOR: you have a countdown until your soulmate’s death

* Surely there was an error in the system.

* Call you crazy but you didn’t quite think that 378,691,205,018 seconds is applicable to the human life span.

* You had come to the conclusion that your soulmate was either non-existent and the universe was fucking with you or they were some kind of non human entity and obviously both of these answers were stupid but at least the former was possible.

* You’d grown accepting overtime that you didn’t have a soulmate unlike how most of your friends did and that you’d never have that sort of unconditional love

* Not having a soulmate wasn’t unheard of, just uncommon.

* And you got the short end of the stick. That’s all there was to it.

* UNTIL you got randomly abducted one day into literal hell where pretty much all beings there loved for thousands of years.

* ‘Maybe I have a chance now?’ You crossed the thought out from your mind. First of all, these were demons and most of them had made attempts on your life at some point or another, and secondly almost all of them either a) didn’t have a timer, which meant no soulmate, b) had an insanely high timer that you’d never be able to reach or c) had already found their soulmate

* You sighed to yourself and began to lose hope again, walking up the stairs to the attic

* A short while ago, you had found a human locked in the attic, who had asked you to help him. You clicked, something in that moment just felt like it had been put in place like the final puzzle piece so you trusted him without really knowing why

* But you had even more recently found out from his brother that he was bulshitting you and that he was probably the demon Belphegor, so now you just wanted to figure out what was going on

* You continued to march up the stairs and finally arrived at the attic to confront him or at least question him

* “Are you Belphegor?” You cut to the chase not wanting to bother with any more of his lies.

* He was silent for a second before grinning, devilish look that you’d expect from the decent ruler or the underworld gleaming in his eyes as he said “Aww, so you’ve already figured me out, have you? Well, you’re no fun at all.”

* You glared, and tried to decide whether declaring he was a liar or asking why he was a liar would be a better idea

* But he spoke up again before you could decide.

* “That timer on your neck, what does it say?”

* You paused, not knowing the exact number. “Um, like, there’s hundred billion seconds-ish? Why?”

* “Because I’m a demon. I’m going to live long enough to fulfil that. Look at my timer, here. It has 13,140,014 seconds. No demon would live that short.”

* “And is thirteen million a lot of time?”

* “About a human lifespan, bit under.”

* You hummed. It made sense to you looking at it at the moment, though you could’ve sworn it was a little bit under your guess, you trusted him.

* Why? He lied to you about being a human, so why do you trust him?

* Because he’s your soulmate. There’s no doubt in your mind. The click, the need to trust him, even seeing him in your dreams. It was right.

* So you believed him, and didn’t give the thirteen million seconds much question. You were going to save him, save your soulmate.

* Because thirteen million seems like a long time, and I guess it was long enough for you to save him. Just not enough to do much more.

#obey me #obey me solmare #obey me! #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me asmo x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me Belphie x reader #but not really cause this is prior to him changing their views since it’s one of their first meetings #x reader #soulmates #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #have I put too many tags #embarrassing #gn reader

[lovebvni]

“what’s stopping me?” (pap)

what’s holding up your manifestations from coming to fruition?

it’s a common question i got throughout the intuition readings. and i remember asking myself the same thing. one thing i want to preface with is nothings stopping you. the 3D is just lagging. it’s usually just how you feel that’s wondering what’s stopping you!

but in this pick a picture, we will be diving into what’s stopping your manifestations, and how to get over them in order to receive everything you want and more!

please note the phrases/alt text for each pile will have little to nothing to do with the pile you choose. do not let it affect your decision.

disclaimer, this pick a pile is not legal advice or anything like that. you can take everything with a grain of salt, because not every fact will apply to you. do not take my words as final say, as anything can change.

inhale, exhale, and let your intuition flow. now click 'keep reading' and select an image from down below. (be sure to look at the image description !!)

all image credits to their rightful owners. if you know any of them, please lmk.

Pile I — Flower Body

hello pile 1!! i hope ur doing well :) im wishing u the best!

whats holding you back is the material and ONLY focusing on it. nile heard “sitting on your laurels/hands.”

youre allowing urself to sink into the quicksand and not doing anything to fight it… when there’s a branch right in front of you to grab onto…?

like… why just sit there and do nothing when there’s something you can do? you may be stuck in your own mind, honestly. just breaking yourself down, over and over again — only allowing yourself to believe what is in front of you. you don’t trust the whimsy, you don’t trust the signs. your motto is “if i don’t see it, it isn’t real.”

im going to break the news to you, pile one, if you keep this mindset nothing is going to come to you instantly. and i hope that motivated you to stand up and do SOMETHING, because doing nothing isn’t helping.

your advice from spirit is connect with your emotions to better yourself. don’t allow this depression to gain the best of you. another thing is allow your imagination to flow — even if you don’t see it right now.

sociopath by stay loose and bryce fox came on.

i feel like you’re like “it hasn’t worked in the past, it isn’t working now, so it can’t work in the future.” which is NOT true at all. let the vast be the past, do what you can in the present to shape your future. don’t look in the rear view mirror when driving. don’t let someone else grab the wheel when you’re driving — this is YOUR car. YOUR journey. do it, and don’t let the 3D, your thoughts or ur doubts get in the way of it. run them over.

that’s all pile 1, please take care of urself and don’t listen to the voices telling you to give up — i promise it will get easier.

extra signs/confirmation : “drive. DRIVE DRIVE!”, “they’re in the past”, someone who shuts down when things get hard, scorpio, “loser/loner”, may have been bullied/put down before, not moving because you’re scared of the chain reaction, not understanding that the past is done, “quit looking at the material. it ain’t shit, bitch.”, “don’t trust everything you see!”, shifttok, complicated methods, potential, sitting on your ass, taking the punches, allowing yourself to be destroyed, crying.

Pile II — See No Evil

hii pile 2!! i hope you’re doing well!! wishing u the best :p

for your energy, we pulled 10 of swords — which isn’t that great of a start — but at least it gives us some information. you’re someone who feels burnt out, tired, stressed and neglected. nile got a similar energy, saying she “felt a self-relinquished energy. Feeling small weak, diminished, low-power, half-effort smiling. They know things are less than okay. Telling themselves/pretending to appear to others that they're not as shaken about things being stale and scarce as they are actually feeling inside.”

you’re not reflecting your true self, which is really self-demeaning. you’re limiting yourself by hiding yourself. and maybe you’re being forced into a box — and i am being too!! find a way to cut a small hole out the box and get the fuck out without anyone noticing. find yourself, even if you just need to sit there and breathe for a while. sometimes that’s all you need to do — find one thing you love.

whats holding you back seems to be obsession, and we pulled queen of pentacles combined with 3 of swords. that’s insane.. maybe obsession of a past love?

get off their social media, block them, they don’t matter! they are not ur partner anymore. if ur friends, our distance between you two. not separate yourself fully, just take a step back. don’t let them be a huge part of ur life, they aren’t anymore. i feel like this is the reason you shut down, the reason you’re repressing yourself now. maybe they were ur out, your sense of joy.

i remember a quote i saw a long time ago, “to have a healthy relationship, there must be self love and love of the other person (or people) involved.” you wed to distance yourself and find some love for urself before u do anything else.

to get other this, you need to be angry in a way. you need to finally stand up and walk out. this isn’t serving you anymore. you need to stop. don’t let this control you. stop letting it control you. i keep hearing “get out, get out, get out.” which is scary. you’re not trapped, pile 2. you can get out. just stand up and walk out — or i’d TRULY that simple.

i love you pile 2, please work for urself and not other people.

extra signs/confirmation: “the final straw”, finally stepping out the box, red, repetition, affirming, false belief, not standing up for yourself, vomiting, crying a LOT, keeping things to yourself, looking outwardly, not confirming with yourself, needing to take a leap of faith, 999, “hopeless and helpless”, “BULLSHIT!”, “gone”.

Pile III — Black Mirror

hellooo pile 3!!! how are you??!! i hope ur well!!

your energy feels “convoluted yet diluted.” there’s so much going on, but somehow it’s so watered down and so deep down. like you can’t find yourself, because the there’s so much going on around you. it’s like you’re just caught in a tornado — being mixed in with all the mess.

im so sorry pile 3. i really hope it gets better, but let’s get onto the reading. what’s limiting you is the way you’re overworking yourself. and honestly, the solution is to work through it. keep going pushing, keep working, and don’t stop.

this is something that you are going to have to power through. the song that came on is paralyzed by nf. i’m going to link it

it’s such a touching song, i used to listen to it a lot. you’re stuck in what feels like a cycle. you don’t feel like yourself. you don’t know why, but it’s because you’re currently in a state where you HAVE to work through this. it isn’t gonna last much longer, but whenever you can take a break.

don’t overwhelm yourself, but also don’t always step back. don’t forget what you need to do. always work as hard as you can, but do not neglect yourself. and i know that is SUCH a hard reading and a complicated situation, but you will find it. you will find the balance, the key. it will work out. i’m rooting for u, pile 3.

extra signs/confirmation: chaotic life, in school or uni, being really tired, neglecting work, working long hours, not prioritizing time, sad rap, lil peep, black jacket, hopeless, helpless, not allowing yourself to find a solution, finding distractions, never doing what needs to be done until the last minute, “why is nothing working?” hyper fixating on self-pleasure and manifestation instead of what also needs to be done.

Pile IV — To See

hello pile 4! i hope you’re doing well! i feel the need to mention that ive been seeing 444 a lot, but 🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️

your energy is every much “the knight in shining armor”, the one who always wants to save and help others — usually neglecting themselves in the process. you stand up for those being bullied, possibly because you were bullied in the past and feel for them. you don’t want people to be broken down like you (and i relate so much — this pile lowkey feels like a callout)

your issue is that you’re holding onto the past, and allowing it to control you. u may say “i let go of that a long time ago”, well there’s a part you’re holding onto and you know it. i feel like exposure therapy may be good for you — ask someone you trust to put you in a similar situation and try to react now. like not as you were, but as you are.

spirit is saying to get over this, you must find balance and peace within yourself. you may have never gotten an apology, never gotten help, or never opened up, but you need to seek it now. cut off the past. it isn’t your friend — and it will not change. don’t allow acknowledgment to take control of you. knowing is not accepting.

that’s all i have for u pile 4!! i hope all goes well, and after you get over this and find balance, i feel like it’s going to come to you immediately. you may not even know you got out the situation!

song bc i forgot to do it earlier 💀💀

extra signs/confirmation: aries, ray of sunshine, false energy (putting our positive energy although you are feeling negatively — specifically got a visual of golden/yellow energy with grey in the center), yellow energy, spontaneous, growth is required, growth is coming, pain, ribs (?), getting over an ex, boys a liar (original).

what’s limiting you is your need for control ALL THE TIME

Pile V — Death’s Harvest

hello pile 5! i hope you’re doing well!! this is probably one of the most intense piles based off the name, but we’ll see!! your energy is very much “i’m in control, i am the man” with king of cups coming out. also kinda getting u have ur head in the clouds, and you don’t rlly see things as they are, but as u want them to be.

what’s limiting you is your need for control. you want it took much, so you have decided “i’ll just ignore everything i don’t like!” which isn’t good. you have to acknowledge the things you don’t like and find a way to change them. don’t just ignore them — stop trying to deny thing are bad? because they ARE.

to get out of this energy, you need to clear the plate. literally. you nee to decide “this isn’t fo me, i’m not having it.” and dump the table. i feel like you know how to do this, but you won’t. decide to do it, stop carrying what you don’t need. very clear message, pile 5!!! i hope all goes well :)

extra signs/confirmation: “i cleaned the plate” (u threw it in the trash), talkative guides, yapper, lots of love. your guides love you, but they really need you to know that this isn’t for you., braggy, injury (smth w a p), health issues, tiara, “homosapien, homosexual”, devil town by cavetown.

Pile VI — Earth’s Hello

hi pile 6!! you guys have such a calming energy, i must say, and i love it. i get an image of blue and green, obviously in relationship to earth. you may he a motherly figure, or someone that people can talk to easily.

what’s holding you back is “bitching and moaning, but not working.” you want things to work, but you won’t take that action. you want something, but all you do is sit and wait for it to happen. it’s like sitting at a bus stop but never standing up to get on the bus.

you’re letting yourself rot. your potential is draining out of you second by second. and i don’t think it’s truly because youre lazy or burnt out, but it’s out of confusion. dont know what to do, but because of that, you wont do anything. if you’re confused, ask for help, dont just decide to give up.

your advice is to cut down your options and hyper focus on ONE activity. don’t allow everything in your mind to jumble up at once, give yourself space to work and think. you can’t sit there forever and expect your manifestations to just fall in your lap when you don’t even have hope.

extra signs/confirmation: i felt like blood in my throat? it smelled like blood and it kinda hurt on my left side, babies, pointy shoes, TV by billie eilish, paralysis, overwhelmed, “you’ve got this!”, babies (again), not working when you need to, 777, the letter T.

Pile VII — All Seeing Cat

hii pile 7! let’s get straight in. your energy can be very calming. you’re a hard working and you work until you get the rewards. you’re not someone who gives up — you hold on until the end. u know that there’s a cycle, a method, and a way to get through it. although it hurts, you continue to push through! that’s so good!! i’m so proud of u pile 7! also you got 7 of pentacles for ur energy. which i think is kinda 777 bc of pile 7 yk but wtv. i also js saw 777!!

your limitation is your emotion and your need for emotional and even romantic attention. i feel like this so something you struggle with on and off — and so do i 😭😭 i asked for a song for clarification, and got mad hatter by melanie martinez.

you’re not in the best mindset and you know this! so why do you keep trying to go after this romantic attraction? push back these feelings, pretend they aren’t there — because they aren’t serving you. the right person will come when you need them.

for now, rely on friends and family rather than romantic interest. like i told pile 2(i think) slowly distance yourself, don’t just cut them off.

extra signs/confirmation: the colour purple, alice in wonderland (obviously), cups cards, emotional, back and forth, mood swings, “emotional wreck”, confused, “need for validation, delusions, center of attention, “attention whore.”

Pile VIII — New Awakening

hiii pile 8!!! 8 is the number of balance, and that’s what i’m praying for this year — balance and fulfillment. your energy is very joyful — you possibly have a yellow aura. but along with this yellow, you feel very alone. you feel distant from everyone — like you have nobody to talk to, nothing to do.

pile 8, you are not alone. you need to surrender these feelings to move forward — confide in someone. be straight up and honest. don’t hold it back anymore — TELL SOMEONE.

twisted by missio came on (cringy ass song, iykyk) and i feel like you may be saying “well they already know, so they won’t help. but they may not know the extent of it. really sit them down and talk them through it, because if you just keep it inside it’s going to be harder.

spirit is also saying “complete the goals you’ve set for yourself”. you may possibly be a fighter and you have a LOT you want to do. finish those things before deciding to move on. it could also be confirmation that your maifestations may come in before you even really confide in someone — because it could be a multiple day process.

extra signs/confirmation: gacha life (💀💀), confusion, bottled up emotions, loniness, depression, black sphere, the colour blackc, “how do i get out of here?”, spirals, 333, energetic and outgoing person, not taking yourself seriously, “do you guys ever think about dying? “ — barbie, “i can be everything i want to be!”, barbie, childhood dreams, online friends, life of the party, friendly, feeling like a fake friend, dance the night from barbie.

Pile IX — Life from Death

hi pile 9!! lotta true crime by penelope scott came on as i was finishing pile 8, and i felt like that was important to mention. the intro beat has been stuck in my head for the past few days so!! you may listen to a lot of true crime too!! lmao

you don’t have a solid sense of self, and ie always seems to be changing. from your world view to the way you style your hair — you’re having issues finding yourself. you may have traveled the world, seen so much, and heard so many opinions, but you don’t know where you fit in. you’re everywhere but nowhere, like 9 — that’s what you think. you’re lost with yourself.

when i asked for what’s limiting you, it’s the mindset that “this isn’t for me anymore.. it isn’t worth it.” it that’s literally because you feel like you don’t have any control. you do have control, pile 9. you just have to find the areas in which you do — don’t be self destructive.

oh ana by mother mother also came on and i feel like that may be an important song to this pile.

your advice is exactly what i said — find places which you have power over. do you like painting? paint what you feel!! don’t act like nothing is going your way — and if it is, THEN MAKE IT.

that’s all i have for u pile 9!

extra signs/confirmation: mother mother, red and orange, fire, childhood, death, being lonely, recent breakup, night to day, dancer/just dance, afraid, sick, vomiting, elita.

i hope you enjoy this pap!! i really hope this resonates and works out. i am hoping the best for each and every pile — and i pray that everything works out. no matter if it takes days or years — it will happen. i promise. i am living proof.

much love, abyss.

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[whatdoeseverybodywant]

You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 19

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All OC Characters belong to me

AIRIELLEJONES

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AirielleJones: queen of self sabotage 💋🥂

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August 1st 2021

Airielle groaned and rolled off of the couch when there was a knock at her front door. “Why can’t ya’ll just leave me alone.” She grumbled. She rolled her eyes once she opened the door and saw Trinity and Yasmine standing there.  “What?” she asked, letting out a huff when Yas pushed her out of the way and marched into her apartment. 

“What is the matter with you Airielle Noelle? That man has done nothing but prove to you how much he loves you and you repay him by breaking his heart and kissing a co-worker in his face!” Yasmine ranted and Airielle sighed, walking back over to the couch and throwing her body down onto it, her face pressed into a pillow. 

“I know I fucked up okay. You didn’t have to come here just to say that” Airielle muttered, her voice muffled by the pillow. Yasmine was about to walk over and hit Airielle but Trinity stopped her. 

“Chill girl,” Trin said, helping a pregnant Yasmine over to the chair. “Don’t stress yourself out.” 

“She’s stressing me.” Yasmine said, glaring over at Airielle. “When I moved out, you said you would talk to Josh about moving in with him.” 

“I lied.” Airielle stated, moving her face from the pillow and looking over at Yasmine. “You know damn well I’m not comfortable living with anybody but you.”  

“Well Why didn’t you call me? I would have come back Airielle.”  Airielle scoffed and shook her head. “What?” 

“You’re starting your family, Yas? Why would I get in the way of that? I’m a big girl, I can handle my demons on my own.” 

Yasmine sighed. “It’s time to let them demons go. It’s been almost two years. I know Chris did some fucked up shit but, come-on. Josh has more than proven to you that he’s nothing like Chris.” Airielle rolled her eyes but nodded her head in agreement.

“I can’t get over it just like that.” Airielle snapped her fingers. Trinity looked between the cousins, lost as all hell. She knew that Christopher was Airielle’s ex but she didn’t know what he did to Airielle. 

“What did he do?” Trinity said softly, almost as if she was afraid of the answer. Airielle and Yasmine looked at one another. 

“You gotta start talking about it Airi. You can't keep it bottled up.” 

“Fine.” Airielle said shakily.  She kept her eyes on the floor the whole time she told Trinity the story. Airielle left out the most important part, the actual reason why she decided to leave Chris. 

“Airielle. Tell her.” Yasmine said lowly. 

“Yas..” Airielle trailed off as her voice started to crack, her bottom lip quivering as she tried to keep it together. Trinity sat next to Airielle and placed a comforting hand on her thigh.

Airielle sighed and nodded, clearing her throat, she continued. “I found out at the hospital I was three months pregnant.”  Airielle sniffled. “After the doctor told me I lost my baby, I knew I had to leave him. But honestly if it wasn’t for Yas or my dad, I wouldn't have left. I left all of my belongings with him and left for Pensacola as soon as I was released.”  All Trinity could do was pull Airielle into a tight hug, the both of them crying on each other's shoulders. 

Trinity couldn’t imagine going through that. She now understood why Airielle ran from Josh every chance she could, she was scared and Trinity did not blame her. At All. 

“Now you have to tell Josh.” Airielle lifted her head from Trinity’s shoulder and rolled her eyes at her older cousin. 

“It doesn’t matter what I tell Josh. He doesn't care. He’s been leaving me on read all week.” 

“That’s cause he’s hurt Airi.” Trin interjected. “He said you needed time to heal yourself and to be honest girl, going on two dates with Raymond is not healing yourself.” 

“The first one wasn’t a date.” She mumbled causing Trinity and Yasmine to let out loud groans. “And!” She yelled out over their groaning. “I only went out with Raymond yesterday because Josh was with Yara.”  

“And he was only with Yara because you were with Raymond.”  Trinity and Yasmine shared an eye roll. “Y’all need to get it together.”  Airielle sighed and threw her body back down on the couch, with her face in the pillow. 

“He doesn’t want to talk to me. Let it go.” 

“So go over there.” Yasmine shrugged. “Y’all live in the same city. Go getcho’ nigga back and stop playing."

“That has to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Airielle grumbled as Trinity pulled her off the couch and pushed her towards her bathroom. 

“Get yourself together and go.” 

“Here goes nothing.” She mumbled, knocking softly on Josh’s apartment door. She couldn’t believe she actually let Yas and Trin talk her into this. She didn’t have to wait too long for Josh to open the door.

“Rih?” He asked, confused. “Whatchu doin here?” He asked, looking behind him into his apartment before stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind him, which made Airielle frown. 

“ Um, you were ignoring my texts.”  Josh sighed and ran his hand over his already disheveled hair. 

“Now is not a good time Rih.”  

“Okay how about I talk and you just listen.” She pleaded and Josh started shaking his head. 

“I’ll come over to your place later and we can talk. But not right -” 

“I’m sorry okay!,” She said, raising her voice. “ I fucked up, but would you please listen to me?” Airielle felt all of the air leave her lungs as Josh’s door opened and there stood… Yara, wearing one of Josh’s white t-shirts and nothing else… literally, the shirt was practically see through and Airielle could see everything. 

“Josh?” Yara asked, looking between Josh and Airielle. “Is everything okay?” 

“Oh.” Airielle said, her eyes bouncing between Yara and Josh. “Oh shit.” She said as she started to laugh but nothing was funny.  

“Airielle,” Josh started, reaching his hand out towards her but she backed away.

“My bad. Um- I’m just gonna go.”  She turned on her heels and walked back towards the elevator, beyond embarrassed. As she was making her way back to her Jeep, Josh finally texted her. 

J.Uso: its not what it looks like  J.Uso: just comeback and i can explain  To J.Uso: dont worry bout it. Sorry 4 interrupting. 

Now he wants to text me.She thought as she rolled her eyes and shut her phone off , throwing it into her bag. She should have never listened to Trinity & Yasmine, now look at her, crying in her car in front of her ex-boyfriends apartment building. 

Fuck it She thought as she climbed back out her car. Josh lived near the pier and she needed to clear her head, before going back to her apartment where Yasmine & Trinity were waiting for her.  

She closed her eyes and sighed as she leaned against the railing facing the water. She honestly had nobody to blame but herself. 

“I knew that if I just waited I would find you.” Airielle felt her blood run cold. There was no way in hell. Airielle opened her eyes and slowly turned around. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any more beautiful,  zanj mwen an (my angel).” 

“Chris..” Airielle trailed off, hands shaking as she reached into the back pocket of her shorts, trying to grab her phone. Her body now racked with fear as she remembered she left it in her car. 

“It’s crazy how God works huh?” He asked, his eyes not once leaving her face. “I’ve been to this city plenty of times and now look, after meeting with one of my biggest clients I run into the one who got away.” 

You should’ve went home. The voice in her head repeated, as Chris started advancing towards her. “You left me.” He sneered. “Gone, just like that.” He snapped his fingers, making Airielle jump. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, getting flashbacks from the night she decided to leave. He went to grab her but someone calling his name stopped him. 

“Hey Christopher!. I forgot to ask you something.” The older man said, smiling politely at Airielle who could only stare at Chris in shock/fear.  Chris nodded at the man then turned towards Airielle. 

“Mwen pral wè ou byento, Airielle” (I’ll see you soon). The second Chris walked away. Airielle ran to her car, scared out of her mind.

There was alot of dialog in this chapter but I think it's important dialog...

Ngl.. i hurt my own feelings writing that Josh & Yara part.

Chris is back in Airielle's life and now he knows that she lives back in Pensacola... he's not going anywhere.

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[kelcemenow]

Drive Me Crazy - Chapter 8.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1391

Warnings Some angsty vibes here, but it's going to get better, I swear!

Huge thank you to the Anon who sent this in! They had such amazing words to say about my writing which I massively appreciate and then to top it off, had an incredible request for me! I only have experience with mechanics in the UK, so I’ve tried my best with this one! “I just recently got interested in Travis K. X reader stories and wanted to let you know, I read all of yours as quickly as I could. They are so well done and I couldn’t help but laugh/giggle and feel through each word you typed out. You’re doing amazing and I’m so glad to have stumbled onto your page. If you have any space for a request, I’d be curious about what Trav would think about having a military (like fighter pilot) or engineer or mechanic girlfriend. I see a lot of stories with him paired with models/singers/social media individuals (which are phenomenal!) but just wondering how he would be with a more tomboy like girlfriend!”

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

"Are you sure you're okay?"

You sighed, rolling your eyes, "Travis, I'm fine. I'm just tired."

He stared at you as thoroughly as he could through his phone screen. Faint wrinkles between his eyes deepened as his eyes narrowed. He hummed quietly before laying further back on his bed, his elbows elevating his torso, "Your Dad seemed pretty happy tonight."

You forced a smile, your chest still panging with hurt, "Yeah, thank you for doing all of this, he had a blast."

"And you?"

You paused, a little longer than you should've, "Yeah, it was great."

Luckily, Travis had rolled across the bed to grab the charger for his phone and didn't pick up on your disheartened expression, "I'm still pissed you wouldn't let the team doctor check you over."

"Travis, I really appreciate that you're concerned for me, I am. But honestly, it wasn't necessary."

He sucked his teeth and shook his head, "It's crazy though, there's gotta be a reason you passed out."

You avoided his gaze, adjusting the folds of your bedsheet.

"Anyway baby, I'm tired. I think I'm going to hit the hay, okay?"

Nodding your head gently, you could feel your body yearning to yawn, "Yeah, me too."

"But I'll call you in the morning?"

"Sure."

You watched as his eyes creased into a sweet smile, "G'night, babygirl."

Your stomach fluttered as his left eye quickly closed into a charming wink. It seemed travis had a talent for making you melt, no matter the situation.

"Goodnight, Travis."

The phone display returned to your home screen, a black and white photo of you and your Dad when you were younger. You must have been around 9 or 10 years old and were wearing one of his work t-shirts, splotches of grease and oil covering most of the fabric. He was leaning over the hood of his car and you were stood on a stool in front of him, holding a large tool in your tiny hand. You recognised his battered baseball cap adorning his head as one of your own now, something he gave you when you took on part of his business. 'A good luck charm', he said. Your chest swelled with love before melancholy set in. The opinions of other people had never bothered you in the past, especially the opinions of complete strangers. You had always been confident in yourself and you valued hard work and kindness over appearances. But now here you were, overthinking and distracted by the online comments of people you didn't know.

You laid back on your bed and stared up at the ceiling, shadows forming swirled patterns across the white paint. Taking a few deep breaths, you glanced across to the digital clock on your nightstand before feeling your eyelids droop lower and lower with each breath.

______________________________________________________________

Music blasted from the small radio you had perched on top of the exposed engine. Your head was buried under the hood, fingers tinkering at greased bolts and pipes as the sounds of the garage were overpowered by Whitney Houston.

"Y/N!" A deep voice yelled out from behind you.

Your body jerked as the noise disturbed your focus. Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed Jordan standing 20 yards or so away from you, his eyes avoiding yours.

"Yes?" You said impatiently, without changing your stance, a clear sign that you weren't interested in a lengthy conversation with him.

"I don't know if you're busy or..."

"Yeah, I am."

"Right." Jordan turned away for a second before spinning around and taking a few steps closer to you, "You know, it's just that it's obvious that other people think the same as I do."

You stood up straight, your shoulders tightening, "Excuse me?"

"I just don't think that you and Travis are a good match for each other." His feet were planted on the floor but his knees were twitching, his hands nervously fidgeting in his washed out denim jeans, "And I know I shouldn't have behaved the way I did the other night, but I was just in shock to see him there, you know? He's a pretty big deal, and you...you're just a-"

"Is this supposed to be an apology?"

Jordan sighed, his hands moving up to his temples, "I just think you would be better suited with someone else."

You laid down the spanner that you had been firmly gripping, the clang ringing out through the garage and capturing everyone's attention, "Someone else? Someone else like you, you mean?"

"Y/N, that's not what I'm saying-"

"What are you saying, then?

Jordan's gaze drifted to the floor, "I...I don't really know."

You took a step towards him, "Exactly. You don't know what you're saying. So, let me give you a clue. Who I date is none of your business, Jordan. It is actually none of yours, or anyone else's business."

You could see heads turning in your peripheral, but all that you could feel was the heat quickly rising in your chest and adrenaline speeding through your veins. Jordan stood with his mouth open, as if he was about to speak but even if he wanted to, you were reluctant to give him the chance.

"So, just...stay out of it, okay?" You waved your hand before rushing over to the bathroom, the wooden door slamming shut behind you.

Your shaking hands reached for the white basin, fingers gripping the smooth, cool, porcelain as you looked up into the mirror. You gritted your teeth as you attempted to hold your composure for a few seconds before you crumbled, tears travelling down your cheeks quickly. The clangs of the garage were muffled in the distance behind your occasional sobs, but you ran the tap just in case anyone could hear you.

Your reflection stared back at you, the skin under your eyes shiny from tears. As your breathing slowed and you took back control of your emotions, you grabbed your hair behind your head and tied it back with a small scrunchie that was snug on your wrist. Wiping your face, you inhaled deeply before a gentle knock on the bathroom door made you jump slightly.

"Uhh, there's someone in here." Your emotionally charged voice gurgled.

"It's Dad."

You looked around the small restroom, for nothing in particular, before flushing the toilet, "I'll just...I'll just be a minute." You called out, grabbing a hand towel and desperately dabbing your face.

There was a short moment of silence on the other side of the door as your Dad waited for the sound of rushing water to cease.

"He's gotten under your skin, hasn't he?"

"Jordan? I couldn't care less about what Jordan thinks." You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and brushed down your overalls, "I don't-"

"I meant Travis."

You turned towards the door, your eyebrows furrowed.

"Forgive me for saying this, and I know I don't really know much about your dating life-" He let out a chuckle, "-but I've seen a change in you. A good change."

You reached for the door handle, "Really?"

"You seem happier." You could hear a smile in your Dad's voice, "Today aside, of course."

As you gently turned the handle and opened the door, his face came into view, his cheek pressed to the door frame, desperate to comfort you. You exhaled a smile as his eyes scanned your face, "I am happy."

"So, what's this?" He gestured to your eyes.

You shook your head, "It's stupid, really. I saw some comments on a picture of me and Travis online and then Jordan just-"

"And since when did you care what people thought?"

You blinked, "I don't."

Your Dad pushed the door open further and placed his hands on both of your shoulders, "So, what's the problem?"

You giggled, "I don't know."

"I think I know." He winked with a grin.

You lowered your brows again, your lips tightening into a coy smile.

"You like the guy!" He shook you gently, "And I don't blame you. But I have to be honest here, he's the lucky one to have you, sport."

You looked down at your feet, your cheeks flushing with red.

"So, fuck what everybody else thinks!"

"Daddy!" Your head snapped up, your eyes wide at your Dad's uncharacteristic cursing, which was something exclusively reserved for watching football games.

"Go get him."

______________________________________________________________

I think I've got my groove back!

This series will be finishing soonish and then I'll get onto the one-shot requests list that I have sitting in my notes app...which is quite a few!

Anyway, I hope you like this next chapter, it's not too dramatic but it's setting up the finale! If you want to be added to my Taglist, just let me know!

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#travis kelce x reader #travis kelce imagine #kelce x reader #nfl imagine #original story #travis kelce fic #travis kelce #travis kelce fluff #nfl fluff #travis kelce smut #travis kelce angst #nfl smut #nfl angst #nfl fic #kelcemenow requests

[umbrellacam]

*steeples fingers and stares at my tablet with gimlet eyes*

so. Road to NML. You mean to tell me that the reason the rest of the country, Congress, and the President himself decided to write Gotham off, blow the bridges, and isolate everyone left - all criminals and asylum lunatics and 'undesirables', of course - was in large part due to *checks notes* a satanic rock star's unnatural, irresistible charisma and cult-like media manipulations aimed at dooming the city for his own benefit?

and that in order to find out what actually happens to this villain, who disappears from the Batman and 'Tec storylines...I'd have to *checks notes* read Azrael's event issues?

....yeah, PASS. I only included JPV's book on my reading list when I absolutely had to (*cough* whenever Cass pops up *cough*), so it's off to the wiki summaries for me!

...but okay, on the one hand I find it very funny how thoroughly fandom has excised this demonic media influencer aspect from the collective consciousness of NML - or at least it had never made its way to me via either fic or fandom posts. I know how few people read comics in general in this fandom, and even for those who do, NML is a Beast that only a percentage have tackled (see: me just starting to pick away at it!), so honestly it's not that surprising.

and like it can easily be left out of the story and still leave it coherent lmao!! One can certainly argue things are in fact neater that way; certainly it's not something that would ever be kept (or at least not in the same form) if NML were adapted to another medium, except as perhaps a normal media demagogue (or a montage of them).

but on the other hand...hmm. Thinking about Hurricane Katrina hitting all of six years after the NML storyline played out. And the debate over whether funds should be used for reconstructing New Orleans and other massively damaged areas. And people around the country wondering if New Orleans would or should be rebuilt at all. Or if a vibrant, historic city would just be basically wiped off the map.

I know this is a conversation that happens everywhere and every time a major disaster wrecks a city. There are always huge fights over disaster aid and funding allocations of any kind.

but man. It's something to see this fictionalized depiction in such close proximity to a real life disaster that paralleled it so strongly, and to know that - yes, there are always people who Do Not Abandon Their Homes and work to reclaim them. Yes, massive amounts of aid (federal and otherwise) and federal reconstruction funding did get dispensed. Yes, people cared, and yes, we rebuilt.

so...maybe we do actually need the demonic social media influencer's evil powers in order to comic book logic explain how everyone in the country turned their backs on Gotham and created No Man's Land.

like - no, it's not necessary. the narrative would work without it. and yet...

the premise imagines - requires? - a significantly more callous, selfish populace. Still plausible and compelling! Possibly even stronger as a story since the turnaround for No Man's Land still hinges on winning the country over to open Gotham back up, let aid in, and rebuild. But. You do have to start from - kind of a bleaker take on humanity?

it also kind of reminds me of what scintillyyy pointed out a few weeks ago about Dick killing the Joker, and how actually there's an important comic book superpower interaction going on there, too, with Rancor present massively amplifying Dick's hate and anger to push him over the edge.

but so few people ever notice or remember that and it certainly isn't one of those things that gets transmitted via fandom osmosis. (It was news to me!!) People focus on Dick breaking down and letting loose solely due to being pushed too far.

and that's extremely compelling on its own! It is! Just like the no-satanic-Nick-Scratch NML.

just thinking about fandom's tendency to ellide the supernatural or powered influences that are canonically affecting a situation, in order to explore/focus on more purely humanistic explanations or motivations...that actually end up being darker than what we might reasonably expect from real life, or from a character's typical values.

like it's part wanting to brush off comic book nonsense, part wanting to dive into gritty realism (that's not always realistic), part not having all the information because of learning things secondhand so you construct the most reasonable explanation...idk it's just interesting.

anyway.

more importantly: Dick and Tim are adorable in 'Tec 727-729!! Especially love them trading off yelling each other's names in fear/alarm, and also trading off protecting each other - Dick's "You hurt that kid and you're gonna be eating through a tube!" and Tim's clever solo rescue of a thoroughly captive Dick via clever use of a voice modulator and a two-way radio. The Boys 😊

#Cam reads comics #hopscotching around between different time periods because violent FOMO yearning for different eras and interactions always strikes #Cam posts

[annaraebananawriter]

(Request) I Bet You Were the Best Brother

It's been a while since I posted a oneshot, so I hope this 5k one manages to make up for that.

As I've mentioned before, been going through a bit of a writer's block that is finally going away. Some it still lingers, but it is infinitely better. Feels like I can breathe again. So, everyone reading this that struggles with writer's block at the moment--know that it will go away. You will be able to write again. It's not a matter of if, only when. You will be able to write again.

Anyway, I don't have any other major life updates for you, so I guess I'll let you start reading now. Happy reading! Let me know what you thought!!

Fandom: Undertale/UTMV

Characters: Dream and Nightmare (Who belong to Joku)

Warnings: A character losing their memory and swearing and I think that’s it. Let me know!

Summary: Ilike_cringe (Fri 14 Oct 2022): "here is a request :>. Could you make it that nightmare might have hit dream tooo hard in a fight that (bear with me ) Dream lost his memory ( if you could could you add more spice \^o^/)"

Word Count: 5395

~oOo~

Nightmare wanted there to be a note that the fight started off normal.

His gang showed up, causing some ruckus. He hung out in the background observing, soaking in the new misery like a sponge, keeping an eye out for the tell-tale sign that the Star Sanses had shown up. In today’s case, that ended up being an arrow flying at one of his boys, which barely got dodged, the blue glow disappearing as it left eyesight. Grinning, he had taken it as his cue to join in, grabbing Dream by the ankles as he notched another one, and throwing him across the space.

Not too hard, of course. He didn’t want his brother out of commission quite yet. That was always the fun part about the fight, seeing him defeated. It needs to be drawn out a bit, though, for it to be really satisfying.

Dream recovered from the toss quickly, though he was soaked head to toe—he had unintentionally tossed him into the river. Whoops. The annoyed look on his brother’s face made his grin widen even more. They quickly fell into their routine after that, trading blows and insults, slowly moving away from the others. Another toss had them entering the woods, which resulted in a lot of fallen trees, a clear indicator of where they’d gone.

A cliff came into view, with Dream’s back to it. Nightmare didn’t take much note of it at the time, too preoccupied—his brother had just gotten a pretty bad hit to the back of his skull, making him stumble. Pausing for a minute, he gave him some time to get his bearings back before attacking again, pushing him closer to the cliff edge.

So…technically, this whole thing could be considered his fault, but how was he supposed to know what would happen?

The cliff seemed perfectly safe in the normal dangerous way!

This means the fight was going great until the cliff crumbled under Dream’s feet, making him shriek, eyes widening, his bow dispersing as he pinwheeled backward. Nightmare froze, staring at the now absent spot with eyes equally as wide, tentacles raised to strike.

Then it went silent.

 “…shit,” he hissed, automatically turning around in case his brother teleported at the last second to safety. It wouldn’t be the first time, so it shouldn’t be the last time.

No one was there.

He waited.

Still no one.

Maybe Dream was just in shock, still picking himself up. Turning back, Nightmare stepped closer to the cliff, small rocks tumbling after the larger ones from his movements. If he leaned over, he could probably tell…ah, no. Nope, that was just a bunch of trees. His brother was probably under those trees. Probably just picking himself up.

He’ll return in no time.

Nightmare just had to wait.

So, he did.

For one minute. Then two. Then…honestly, he lost track of the minutes after that, glancing back and forth around the clearing, looking over his shoulder at the cliff like Dream would just suddenly appear, having climbed up for some stupid reason. Any minute now, the fight will be back on, continuing as usual…any minute now…

…any minute…

…any—

Okay, so.

Something was wrong.

Turning back to the cliff, he glared at the edge. It was its fault this was happening. Why did it decide to crumble now? Particularly when Dream was on it? Why?

Now his brother was somewhere below, dazed as hell, without the clear thinking necessary to teleport, or injured badly enough to be unconscious—and as soon as that thought popped into existence, he shoved it away, then took time to quell the rising panic in his soul.

No, no, that’s not possible. Dream’s far more durable than that. Sure, it’s a cliff, and cliff’s cause damage, even to immortal beings, but still. His brother could heal, so shouldn’t that work on himself, make him more…invulnerable, or something? Unless…he couldn’t actually heal himself and he’s just been assuming that he could this entire time…no, that couldn’t be possible. Nightmare’s pretty sure he’d remember that if it were the case.

So…what happened?

Maybe…maybe Dream was just staying down there for a while.

He’ll probably join again in a bit.

Yeah, that’s probably it. So, he should really go back and help his boys. Hey, maybe Dream’s already there! Maybe he went to his friends instead. Makes sense, makes sense…

He should go help his boys now, he’s been standing here too long.

And…he wasn’t moving.

Why wasn’t he moving?

Dream’s fine. He’s back at the main fight. It’s something that’s happened before. It should be something that happened here. It’s fine. He can go back. So…what kept him here, staring around like his brother would magically appear, a tight feeling in his chest that threatened to steal the air away from his non-existent lungs?

Maybe…maybe he should just go down there, check on Dream—

That was another thought pushed away. No, hell no. If he gave in to that though, if he went down there to check, now, after too much time has already passed for that to be considered just moving the fight along, that’d be…that’s cause his brother to hope. Hope that things could go back to the way things were before the apples. He can’t go through the painstaking steps needed to crush that hope, put off the last stubborn spark that remained until he was sure it wouldn’t create another flame. Not again.

Besides, he didn’t even care. Not that much. Sure, yeah, he cared somewhat, always would—that’s just naturally part of being a brother. But the majority of how much he cared was in the past, before everything was plucked off a tree in the form of a black apple and devoured. That care no longer exists, taken over by the need to win all these fights, making the scales tip in his direction.

It just…didn’t exist. He didn’t care.

(Some days, it was harder to convince himself of this fact than others.

This was one of them.)

He didn’t care, so he should so rejoin his boys, and get out of this AU.

This time, he teleported.

It was an easy win. Dream never came back.

When it came time to go home, Nightmare couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering away from his boys, who were celebrating as usual, over to the trees. In the direction of the cliff, even if he couldn’t see it from here.

The tight feeling in his chest squeezed and squeezed. His tentacles flicked nervously behind him. For some reason, he kept thinking that now was the moment his brother would appear, now was the moment he could stop all this silly, stupid worry, go back to being angry. And the longer he looked, the more that thought wavered and shook, gathering speed as it transformed into a tornado that threatened to consume all of his other priorities until he made sure Dream was okay. But the only way to do that was to go and check, and leaving now would just make the boys confused and worried, which he could not handle right now.

Besides, he was sure it was fine.

He got them all home before he could convince himself otherwise, before the urge to make sure was too overpowering. To make sure he was really distracted, he holed himself up in his office, pulling out some paperwork—which wasn’t even real paperwork, just a bunch of sudoku and word searches and other puzzles printed out to make it look like he was working on important stuff.

For the most part, it worked. Kept his mind too busy to think about what happened.

Then he got to one particular word search that—and he is not joking or exaggerating this part—had three words at the bottom for him to find, all in a row, that read: ‘Dream’, ‘injury’, and ‘concussion’. Isn’t that just the strangest collection of words you’ve ever seen? The surreal coincidence of the words made Nightmare stare down at the page for a minute, completely gobsmacked. Who the hell was writing these word searches, and why the fuck did they include these three specific words on the same one?

It was like a sign or something…

Sneering, Nightmare tore the word search up into tiny pieces, sitting back in his chair, spinning around and around. Trying very hard not to think about the three words. And how his brother never came back. And how the yelp he let out when he fell just fell silent and how he never bothered to check and—

And now he was thinking about it.

“Fuck.”

Growling to himself, he stopped spinning in his chair. Then, he promptly stood and teleported back to the AU.

Leaning over the cliff again, he teleported down. His brother wasn’t anywhere in the immediate proximity—though, why would he be? This was all just a waste of time—so he started walking around, ducking under some tree branches. When he fell, Dream would’ve had to have landed somewhere around here…though he still wasn’t sure why he was searching.

His brother was probably gone by now. His friends probably came to collect him.

Why did he think he’d find him here, lying on the ground as if nothing happened? As if he just decided to take an impromptu nap, in the snow and in wet clothes and…

Oh. Oh, shit.

That was actually Dream lying there in front of him.

Fuck.

Almost tripping over himself, Nightmare hurried over, falling to his knees beside his brother. His hands hovered in the air around him, unsure what to do. “Dream?” he called, hoping to wake him up. Nothing happened.

Dream didn’t move.

For a soul-stopping moment, Nightmare actually thought he might be dead. Panic swirled in his chest, choking him, until he remembered that if they were dead, their body would turn to dust. Presumably, anyway, since they had no real way of knowing that until they…y’know…actually died, but still. The thought allowed him to gather himself enough to Check his brother, make sure of it. It said he was fine, if missing a chunk of health.

Nightmare breathed out, hating how shaky it was. “Idiot, making me worry for nothing…” he muttered to himself, looking down at his brother, frowning. Shaking his shoulder, he raised his voice a bit, eager to wake him up, make sure he left to wherever, hopefully back to his friends, and get home himself before his boys wondered where he went off to. “Dream. Wake up.”

No response. Dream was still. Breathing—he double-checked, just to be sure—but still.

Frowning, he shook him again, rougher. Still nothing.

Even unconscious, his brother insisted on being annoying. Scowling, he sat back on his heels. “If you don’t wake up, I’m going to kick you.”

Nothing.

Welp. His hand was forced.

Standing, Nightmare kicked Dream in the side—not too hard, of course, he’s not a complete monster. Just enough that he woke up.

Which he did.

Finally.

Nightmare rolled his eye to himself, crossing his arms as he watched his brother groan, coming to. A hand half-raised to his head before stopping, eyes blinking open and squinting against the light. His eyelights were paler than normal, just a hair bigger, too. He could see the exact moment they focused in, his brother clocking that there’s someone standing above him, but Dream didn’t panic, didn’t seem to be anything more than confused.

Dream blinked again. “Hi.”

Nightmare raised a brow bone. Seriously? That’s it? He fought the urge to roll his eye again. “What are you still doing here?”

His brother seemed to get more confused. “What?”

Wondering if the fall knocked loose some brain cells, Nightmare scowled. “What do you mean, ‘what’? You know what. What are you still doing here? This is, like, the most uncomfortable spot to have a nap.” Without waiting for him to answer, he continued, waving a hand around. He couldn’t let the opportunity to mock him go by. “And why didn’t you rejoin the fight? I thought you had a duty to protect the positivity in the multiverse.”

“Um…” Dream blinked for a third time, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He laughed, nervously, like a reflex, and when he opened his eyes again, they were fuzzy again. “Sorry, you went a bit fast for me there. Could you repeat that?”

Ugh. Now he was just being difficult.

“You’re so annoying.” Nightmare said, stepping away. “Just get up and get out of here.”

Looking up at him, the words seemed to take a few minutes to sink in. Then, nodding, Dream tried to stand, movements jerky, as if he was figuring out how to move them for the first time again. When he stood, he wobbled, tilting over a bit before righting himself.

Nightmare realized he had stepped forward, ready to catch him should he fall, and retreated, tucking his hands back into his arms.

Damnit. He was slipping. He had to get out here, fast.

“I’m alright.” Dream said, clearly noticing his misstep. He was smiling. Nightmare had to look away before the sight made him feel warm inside. “Just a bit dizzy.”

“Whatever,” Nightmare said in return, leaving it at that.

Still smiling, his brother shifted on his feet, looking down at his hands and clenching them into fists a couple of times. His gaze wandered back up to him, and then away, looking around them with a curious, still confused, look. It was almost like he was trying to figure out where he was, as if he wasn’t just in a fight here earlier.

He couldn’t have forgotten that fast, could he? And what was he still doing here?

Shouldn’t he be opening a portal by now?

“What are you waiting for?”

Snapping back to look at him, Dream didn’t seem to understand the question. “Huh?”

Waving a hand again, tentacles flicking behind him, Nightmare’s scowl deepened. Why the fuck was he acting so weird? “Open a portal already and go home. Your friends are probably worried sick by now.”

(He ignored the voice in his head that said he was starting to get worried, too.)

“Right, right.” Dream nodded, trying and failing to look like he knew what he was talking about. “A portal…see, um, I would do that…but, uh…” Looking around again, shifting some more, his smile turned sheepish. “Well, I don’t remember, exactly, how to do that.”

Nightmare did not return the smile, unamused. He just stared.

What the fuck? What was he playing at? What was the point in drawing all this out? Nostalgia? What did he get out of acting so weird? What was going on here?

“Do you think this is a fucking game?” Nightmare asked, voice slipping off into a growl. His tentacles moved restlessly. He was getting agitated now. He just wanted to go home, get back to his puzzles, and maybe sleep for a week. But no, he was here, playing along with this stupidness, unable to get a grasp on what was happening.

Dream looked alarmed, holding his hands up and shaking them furiously. “No! No—”

“Then why the fuck are you wasting my time? I come out here, in the middle of the evening, to make sure you’re good, and you decide to, what, pull a joke on me?” Unable to curb his irritation, he shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face. “Stars, I hate you. I’m reminded now why I don’t bother doing this for you. You never take it seriously.” Turning he started to walk away, hearing Dream stutter excuses behind him.

He didn’t want to hear any excuses. He was done. He was going home.

“It’s not—I’m not joking,” Dream called after him, footsteps crunching on the snow as he chased after him.

“Of course, you are!” Nightmare sighed, in annoyance or anger or both of them combined. He didn’t care anymore. “You always are!” He didn’t bother stopping or turning around. Just continued on. And then he remembered he didn’t have to walk away at all, could just make a portal out. Turning his annoyance to himself, he raised a hand to do so—

“I don’t remember that.”

—and stopped.

The statement struck the right chord, making something inside him fall to the pit of his stomach, pricking him uncomfortably. Slowly, he turned to face Dream again, paying more attention. “…what?”

“I—I don’t remember that,” Dream said, tone so genuine, eyes so wide and confused and even scared that it seemed to create a physical attack on his soul. Raising a hand, his brother held it to his head. “I thought if I waited a bit, I might remember something, but I don’t. It’s all just…blank. I don’t know anything you’re talking about, like the fight or my friends. I place any faces to them or names or anything.” He let his hand fall, shaking his head as he turned his gaze down to his feet, speaking softly. “I just don’t remember.”

The words pushed Nightmare out of the present, sending him spiraling into the black hole opening in his ribs, right where his soul is. They pressed in on him, reverberating, turning into a high pitch that buzzed inside him, threatening to cut off his breath.

He didn’t want to believe the words. In fact, he was trying his absolute best not to. Excuses flew through, nitpicking through the explanation and finding words that betrayed the real truth. He told himself over and over that no matter what, no matter how injured he got, Dream would never allow this to happen. His brother would hold onto himself with an iron grip, too desperate to let go, and the Multiverse would allow him to hold on because it was just another being that favored him. They would not let their favorite Guardian lose his precious memories, not for all the stories it brought them.

No, it just wasn’t possible. He was lying—though the reason why was unclear, and nothing could really justify it, he had to be lying. It was a trick, a ploy, maybe even a trap. Yes, that’s it. Any minute now, the other Star Sanses would jump out, pull their weapons, and Dream would drop this façade and go back to pleading with him and when it didn’t work, when Nightmare lashed out in anger, he would pull out his bow and—and—

It just---it had to be a trick.

It had to.

It…

His eyes didn’t look like he was lying, though.

No matter how long he searched, how close he looked, it was a blank sheet of gold. He found confusion, yes, he found anxiety—nothing new there—but he did not find any recognition. Hope and helplessness, but no relief in having someone he knew find him. Even now, as his brother looked around the clearing, he only saw curiosity, as if he hadn’t seen this place before, as if he had just arrived, as if he had just woken up and was in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar faces. The eyes came back to his, smiled at him, and—

And they were still blank.

A ghost.

The black hole in his ribs widened, pulling him in faster. Digging his heels in, he resisted with everything he had, swimming back out. He had to confirm this, he told himself, had to make sure this was the truth. If there was any chance he did remember, whether that be his friends or his title or Night—

Well, Nightmare just had to find it. He had to.

He heard himself speak before he was fully back in his body. “Did you hit your skull?”

“Ah, maybe?” Dream tilted his head, reaching around to the base of it before retracting quickly, wincing. “Yes. Yeah, I did.”

“Turn around.”

Obedient, Dream did, and Nightmare stepped closer, observing the crack. It wasn’t as bad as he was expecting—certainly not as big—but it was still enough to make bile climb up the back of his throat. Swallowing it down, he darted his gaze around it, taking in the gaping black hole, about the size of a cherry, thinner cracks webbing out from around it. It had blood crusted on the edges, and he was sure that if he took the time to look around the cliff, he’d find matching spots.

Absently reaching out, he traced along the wound with his fingers. Stars, how he wished he knew how to heal. This would be so much easier.

Dream pulled away after his fingers made contact, and he let his hand fall as he turned back, already apologizing. “Sorry! Sorry, that just…really hurt.” He laughed again, but it petered out as he caught sight of Nightmare’s face. “Oh…that bad of a sight, huh?”

“You said…” Nightmare swallowed again, ignoring those words. “You said you don’t remember anything?” The feeling in the pit of his stomach clenched.

“No.” Oblivious, Dream shook his head. “The latest memory I have is of you standing over me. Before that…” Tilting his head again, his brother thought about it, ultimately coming up with nothing. No spark in his eyes. “Nothing.” He looked regretful, like he wished he could be of more help. “Sorry.”

There he went again, apologizing.

Nightmare was going to have to have a talk with him about that. He can’t keep saying sorry for things that he didn’t need to say sorry for in the first place.

First, however, was dealing with—this.

“So…” He didn’t want to ask the next question. It burned in his throat, made his tongue curl in preparation, the words too ugly to even think about. Why did it need to be said? He already knew the answer to it. Why did he insist on asking it when he knew what was going to be said? He would rather them stand like this forever than ask it.

That was a risk, though. And he would really like to get some sleep tonight—even if that might be impossible the longer this sank in. They should really wrap this up soon.

That meant asking uncomfortable questions.

Swallowing himself down, Nightmare let the question go. It couldn’t hurt to ask, anyway. “You don’t remember me?” The words lingered in the air, an odd hint of emotion to them, something fragile and vulnerable.

(He knew the answer to why he wanted to ask this.

Somehow, somewhere inside him, there was still a need that maybe something would be remembered. If the longer they talked, the greater the chance the memories would just snap back into place. That the hollow feeling of having someone you grew up with look at you like one would a stranger would disappear, replaced by joy or anger or tears, anything else.

Inside, if nothing else, he needed there to be a chance he’d be remembered.)

It felt like hope.

“No.” Dream answered, the shaking of his head feeling like salt poured into open wounds. He seemed disappointed in himself, upset he couldn’t help. For him, this was failing at giving someone what they wanted.

For Nightmare, this was confirmation.

(It felt like denial.)

(There was a stinging in his chest. Where did it come from?)

“Where you someone important?”

Nightmare automatically bristled. “I—” He stopped himself, glaring down at the ground while clenching his jaw.

His instinct was to say that, of course he was. He was Dream’s brother. They grew up together. They were, still are, two halves of the same coin, two halves to the same balance. Despite everything, that had to mean something.

But that wasn’t the truth, was it?

Not anymore.

Maybe one time, before The Incident, before the villagers came to them. It was just the two of them, after all. And Mother, but she couldn’t really say much, or do anything beyond existing. Maybe then they were each other’s most important person. And maybe it would’ve stayed that way had everything not gone to shit.

But the point was, that was in the past.

Whatever they had, it was gone. In more ways than one now…

Inhaling, Nightmare looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. “That…depends on your definition of important.”

They had other people in their lives now. He had his gang, his boys. Though he often complained about their foolishness and called them idiots, not once had he ever wished he hadn’t met them. Dream, he knew, felt much the same about Ink and Blue. Neither of them would trade their friends for the world.

Even for each other.

“I was—” Nightmare sighed, rolling back his shoulders. “I’m your brother. Nightmare.” He forced himself to look back at Dream, even if the eye contact burned his soul with something uncomfortable. “Your name is Dream, by the way. In case you forgot that, too.”

“Cool!” Dream paused and gasped, beaming as he made the connection. “Our names match!”

“Yeah.” Nightmare said, forcing himself to smile back. “Yeah, they do.” Of course they did, he thought to himself. That’s the reason why they chose the names.

Brow furrowing, Dream tilted his head. “Wait, if we’re brothers, wouldn’t I just live with you, then?”

“What?” Nightmare felt himself frown in return. “Why do you think we’d live together?”

Strange, considering Dream didn’t even remember him.

(There was that stinging again.)

“I-I don’t know, I just…I have this feeling that brothers should be living together. That they need to live together. I don’t know why, but it’s a very strong feeling.” Dream raised a hand to his chest, hovering over where his soul would be. “When I think about you, um, that feeling gets all…strange.”

This caught his attention. “Strange?”

“Yeah.” Nodding slowly, Dream worked through it, finding what to call it. “I think it…I think it turns jealous, somehow.”

Nightmare stared.

Jealous…?

That couldn’t be right. Dream had to be reading it wrong.

There was nothing to be jealous about. His brother always had the perfect life. What more could he want?

If anything, he should be the one jealous. He’s the only one who deserves to be jealous. Jealous of the way people were always drawn to his brother over himself, the way people thought everything of the sun and nothing of the moon, even though they both shared the same light. It was his right to be envious, his right to look upon the past and view it with bitterness. It was his right to look at the present, now, when Dream still has his friends and his standing and still has everyone revolving around him.

At least he can find relief, find arrogance, in the fact that he found his own friends, his own group of people who looked up to him. It took years, it took work, but he found them.

He didn’t need Dream anymore.

(So, what if sometimes he looked at his brother and his friends and felt a longing to join them?

So, what if he found the way they laughed, the way they treated each other, a reminder that he’s done too many things to be treated like that again?

So, what if he’s tired of fighting all the time and wants to go back to how things were, while knowing that could never happen, while looking across the battlefield into golden eyes that reflected the same kind of feelings and—and…oh.

Oh.

Oh, they would never escape being peas in a pod, would they?)

“Hey, you mentioned my friends, though.” Dream said, brightening up again, looking around like they might just pop up. Not that he would recognize them. “Maybe we could find them and they could help me get home. What do you think of that?”

Maybe, Nightmare thought, looking away as well. He couldn’t lie, it would be nice to leave this place, and dump the responsibility of an amnesiac onto someone else. Especially the Guardians of the Multiverse, the coveted Star Sanses.

But something twisting in his stomach stopped him from agreeing.

He thought, all too suddenly, about how he came back hours later to his brother still lying in relatively the same spot he fell. Meaning Ink and Blue never came back to look for him after they retreated. You’d think, for monsters that claimed to be his best friends, they’d be out here the minute the battle was over, bringing Dream back home to be checked on.

Why should he trust his brother with those two, when they didn’t even search for him? They probably don’t even know he’s missing. They certainly don’t know he’s injured. He can’t help but wonder what their reactions would’ve been to this memory loss.

Too bad he won’t find out.

“I think they’re busy, actually.” Nightmare decided, making a split decision that he hoped wasn’t wrong. “And going to be busy for the week yet.”

 “Oh…”

Dream looked disappointed. Hurt.

The look on his face only solidified Nightmare’s decision. His tentacles curled in satisfaction. “You can come home with me, though. Stay for a bit.”

“Really?” Starting to brighten yet again, Dream seemed to hesitate, searching to make sure he was telling the truth.

“Yeah.”

“Awesome.” Dream’s smile lit up the forest, and Nightmare turned himself away before he found himself getting soft because of it. Raising a hand to open the portal, he heard Dream chuckle behind him. “I gotta say, even though I don’t remember it, I bet you were the best brother ever.”

The words were said so confidently, so…normally…it made Nightmare freeze. The portal wobbled in front of him, but stayed open, and he blinked at it a couple of times before he turned back to his brother.

His mouth was dry, for a reason he couldn’t yet understand.

“What?”

“Well, I mean…it’s like you said. You came all this way, in the middle of the night, to check on me. You were worried. And then, when you found me, you stayed to wake me up, even though you technically already completed your goal. You didn’t just leave. And you checked my injury without me asking you to, and told me my name, and now you’re offering to let me stay at your place.”

Dream’s smile turned smaller, more vulnerable. “It just seems like a very nice thing to do.”

Nightmare’s gaze was frozen, locked onto that genuine, soft smile. The last sentence played on a loop, ringing inside his skull.

A very nice thing to do.

In any other situation, the suggestion would be laughable.

But like this…

(There was that stinging. Again. Why won’t it just go away?)

He thought back to the fight that happened earlier. How he reveled in the pain he caused, how much fun he had taunting his brother. How often he attacked him, without worry or caution. How eager he was to throw him around into trees, back him up into a cliff. He hadn’t even thought about what might happen, too giddy, too smug. All he wanted to do was put him in his place…he hadn’t even cared that he was bleeding…hadn’t even reached out to try and save him when the cliff crumbled…

How long had Dream laid there, in the snow, still in wet clothes?

What did he think as he watched Nightmare watch him fall?

How can that be called nice?

How can what happened during The Incident be called nice? What kind of brother turned his twin into stone, and left him in a dead AU all alone, knowing full well that he would one day return? What kind of brother picked an apple he was supposed to protect in the first place? What kind of brother was he?

Certainly not the kind this Dream was talking about…

“Right.” Nightmare said, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. He understood why this time. He wanted to throw up. “Thanks.”

Dream didn’t notice anything wrong. Still smiling away. As always. Always. “No problem!” Rocking back on his heels, he started to look around as his attention span waned with no portal to go through.

Still, Nightmare did not move to open it.

Instead, he found himself changing tracks. Jumping train from thinking about how bad of a brother he was, to how good of a brother Dream was.

Is.

Was.

Stars, this was so confusing…

“You weren’t that bad of a brother yourself.” Nightmare said, and this time the words were better tasting. At least this way, something true would be said here.

Dream looked back at him, surprised, with a spark of confusion. Then, even if he didn’t know everything Nightmare was talking about, he smiled, taking it as the compliment it was. “Aw, thanks.”

Nodding, Nightmare finally managed to open the portal, letting Dream go through first. He hesitated to follow, looking around the AU again. For some reason, he felt like he would still find his brother, memories and all, waiting for him if he looked hard enough. But he wouldn’t. He knew that.

At least, he had to accept that.

That stinging again…

Showing it down once again, Nightmare turned and went home.

(It’s only after Dream is settled into one of the guest bedrooms—stocked with fresh bedsheets and a fresh pair of clothes for the next day borrowed from Nightmare’s own closet—and he’s back in the safety of his office that he lets his composure finally break. Choking, he slides down his door, hand clasped over his mouth to keep as quiet as possible.

It’s only then that he lets himself cry.

Cry about how he never reached out to catch his brother when he first fell.

Cry about what his brother thought before splitting his skull on a rock.

Cry about the stranger left in his brother’s body.

Cry about everything.)

#my writing #my fanfiction #fanfiction #oneshot #request #undertale #utmv #dreamtale #dream sans #nightmare sans #tw swearing #tw amnesia

[alexas-fandom-and-random-blog]

I need to get it out of my chest so here's some Striker theories/speculations fandom has come up with that I heavily dislike and why.

Striker has some royalty blood from one parent or both.

Oh God that would suck so much if it became canon cause it absolutely defeats the purpose of his character so far, that of being a lower class imp hating royals with valid reasons even if his actions are violent and sadistic.

As he is he has such an interesting antagonistic role in the story and offers a bunch of good lines directly opposing and questioning the heroes values, choices and morality.

His mere presence and open bashing of the upper class is just good social commentary! If his hatred stems from a combination of his narcissistic nature and bitterness that being born an imp (even mixed or hybrid) robs him from ascending further into the social ladder or even if he survived a traumatic encounter with a royal as its implied and it's fuelled by anger or a combo of all those things all are good for telling a compelling story! All can be done in very interesting ways!

But making him yet another character tied closer to royalty than just being a random person that got screwed over is honestly an underwhelming concept.

Getting screwed over for no good or justified reason should be common with Hell's racist and classist system as its been presented so far and we should get confirmation of that instead of having Striker added to the trend of each of the main characters having special connections with higher ups. It's not only redundant at this point but would make his motivation and social commentary that much weaker.

I swear if it just becomes another daddy or mommy issue imma rage quit so fast!

Striker is half shark demon

His sound design is explicitly constantly emulating the noises a rattlesnake makes. Since he's most likely a hybrid and he says to Blitzo how they are "superior to most of our kind" he's definitely part imp. So we got two halves and we got snake demon and imp, so it's basically covered? lol I don't know how this theory became so popular😅

He doesn't even look close to the design of the other sharks

he only looks like Chaz a little bit.

And lots of characters share similar characteristics like that snout.

This one had some merit with the ringed eyes and imma be real I haven't noticed those elsewhere but like even if he had a grandpa shark what purpose would that serve?

Bah I just don't like it. Let the man be a slimy snake! Its more unique and it suits him better!

Striker is asexual cause he got grossed out by sex jokes

No...just no..

To be clear you could totally read him as asexual! But the reason being the damn sex jokes is giving me whiplash. Striker got flustered and frustrated at best cause the timing of each sex joke was inappropriate as all hell and cause everyone did it as he tried to be intimidating and threaten/kill them. If anything they were bruises to his ego not any indication to his libido.

But like... In all seriousness asexual confirmation deserves more than a reaction to sex jokes.

Hellaverse does it better with Alastor. In his case it does tie in with his sexuality.

Same goes with all the theories that he's homophobic too.

He did the sexy villain thing trying to seduce Blitzo like so explicitly and smiled when Blitzo called it hot then! What are you talking about?

Different situation, more receptive to sexual undertones and instigating them too. That's what I'm trying to say!

And again. Asexual reading can apply. But it can't be just the sex jokes alright?!😭

(yeah yeah it's a joke on itself. still valid I get it.)

Striker is related to Crimson and Moxxie.

Oh this one is the worst one and absolutely gives me a heart attack and thank goodness for the crew's soft confirmation that they aren't via strixxie fanart cause no joke I'd cry since its my favourite ship!

It's just similar horns!!! Striker was designed as a mix between Moxxie and Blitzo and that's the only reason why!

Striker also had sexual tension with Blitzo on screen are you gonna tell me they are related too cause he was designed with half of him in mind?

I hate this theory so much.

Granted purely for shipping reasons but holy shit it got popular and I hated that!

I've had enough with turning every ship into potential incest just cause and harassing fans over it!

Got such "Fizz and Blitzo are siblings" deja vu😬

Ahem...

Anyways yeah that's all.

To end it more positively I love the snake man! Didn't spot him on the trailer but still hope we see him in the upcoming episodes🥺

Preferably doing shit like this and traumatizing everyone lmao! (with no godawful statue jokes in sight thank you very much)

#rant #Striker #alexia posts #helluva boss #helluva boss striker #helluva boss critical #fandom critical #this is mostly unserious #😂

[onnoffwrites]

This was a short convo in server (but also included me asking my friend Es bc they've been in the fandom for longer and have access to official Thai translation). BUT, here's another tale of mistranslations of hakuba!

In the chapter where saguru used his family's lab, depending on when u joined the fandom and read the magic kaito manga, u might remember him as saying "my uncle's laboratory" OR "my grandfather's laboratory". Now, why would this be the case?

Let's clear things up properly first. The original wording of this line was "uncle's laboratory" specifically the kanji used is one used for "younger brother of father" (well according to my friend who has the Thai books but also the jp books bc she knows the mistranslation and she reads jp).

So where did the "grandfather" bit come from? As you may suspect from me mentioning it twice now, the official Thai translation.

Now some of you might go "hold up, but I read the eng fan translation, what does this have to do with Thai?" You see, my guys, my dudes, my girly pops, from the server convo I gained insights into the past of mk fandom, and learnt, that the OG eng fan translator of mk was non other than a Thai fan herself, Jane. This honestly explains so much. Bc before the great crash and burn and rebirth of mangadex, there was like 3? 2? Diff translations for mk. And one of them is like has Thai sfx texts all over instead of the usual jp sfx or even eng sfx. SO! Depending on when you get into mk, u might have been reading Janes translations, which was based off of the official Thai translation. WHICH, mistakenly translated "uncle" to "grandfather". Bc apparently those two kanji looks very similar. Whoops

That is all. I just found fandom history interesting, especially when it's the fandom I'm in and I wasn't around for any of this stuff. And now a lot of the things that confused me makes sense. (Shout out to icka for bringing this up that one time. I just realized I didn't post this finding, which would fit right along with that other mistranslation post I made lmao.)

#hakuba saguru #magic kaito #dcmk #ramblings #rambles #rambling rambling rambling #yapping about translations again #and learning fandom history

[jgracie]

an excerpt from cynthia’s diary — please read !

hi guys!! i’d like to preface this post by thanking u all for all the support you’ve shown me in the single month i’ve had this blog 🤍 i honestly thought it’d just be a silly little place for me to post my thoughts and leave but i ended up making so many friends and meeting lovely people & couldn’t be happier :) so thank you 🌟

i am making this to let you all know that i will be on a semi-hiatus starting now until june 14th (my last igcse exam!). i’ll try to pump out a couple reqs in this week since my first is may 10th but expect this blog to be a little slower than usual!!

i say semi-hiatus because i cannot isolate myself from the world completely so during exam szn i will still be posting blurbs (since they take me like 10 mins to write on my phone) but nothing longer 😓 if i haven’t posted your request im SO sorry & i promise i will get to it asap as soon as exams are over :)

feel free to ask any questions! i’ll be active on my main ( @gentlehue ) cz i just say random things on there LOL. after exams i have so much planned for this blog and will have all the time in the world so trust me i will be very active ✨

thank you so much for understanding!!!!!

much love, c. 🪷

#𝜗𝜚 ctalks #impt ! #love u allll xoxoxoxoxo #only i can manage to make a hiatus post this extra LMFAOOOO