#i just dont really have any other way to express myself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

droodlebug · 4 months

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i think most people need to expand their idea of art so dipshits can stop saying ai art is actually good for physically disabled people who cant do art. what do you mean when you say art? can we ask that question? if you say that word and all you mean is a pretty portrait or an oil painting, then you need to open yourself up.

art at a base level is just something you made with some kind of strong emotion – some kind of passion – behind it. yes a hyper rendered portrait can still be art. a sketchy pen drawing is art. a mess of colors making shapes on a canvas is art. painting a huge canvas in paintstakingly light layers of a single color so that the end result is perfectly smooth is art.

a song on the speakers in a store is art. an underground indie song you love is art. singing a single sentence song with small children is art. voice acting is art. beading is art. jewlery is art. decorating your home is art. making a house or a person in the sims is art. making dumb ass tiktoks can be art. stuffed animals are art. resin crafting is art. sculpting is art. making little dioramas is art. collecting and cleaning dolls and figures is art. meticulously organizing your desktop and phone layouts is art. getting bored and spraypainting a shelf a new color is art. writing about your favorite show, whether theories or as a fanfiction, is art.

technology is art. engineering is art. architecture is art. science is art. sewing, modding, dress up games, hoke renovations, dancing, singing, fingerpainting, cooking, cross stitching, baking, making a blog or an essay about something you love, or hate, cmor care about, dearly, rearranging store shelves, crochet, making people laugh, icing a box mix cake, the way scientists talk about their field, literary analysis, printing shirts, personalizing your car, sex work, editing a picture to print, scrapbooking, getting really into planners, putting stickers on your things. its all art

when i say ai art isnt art, and it isnt a good tool for disabled people to make art. im not saying you have to be like me, who is physically disabled, and fingerpaint or that you have to learn to paint and draw with your mouth or toes or whatever. i mean art is something you are passionate about, and you need to find the kind of art that speaks to you and lets you express yourself. if that means you push your disabled (or abled) body to draw portraits of people like yours truly, then thats wonderful. if that just is not your art, thats wonderful too. theres so much out there to try.

you dont have to limit yourself to the first kind of art that pops in your head when you hear the word. and always remember. it doesnt have to be good or marketable. it just has to be yours

#idk im just thinking about some notes i saw on an ai post #about another disabled person saying something like..m well i shouldnt have to learn how to paint with my teeth to make art #and i agree. but thats not an excuse to take advantage of a skeevy ai program dubiously using art posted online.#it just means you need to find your outlet. if you arent willing to find your workaround to paint then dont paint. find other art #its okay to be dissappointed about that. its not okay to choose to let that hurt other people #its okay to yearn for something you cant do. im shit at any kind of fiber art and it hurts my physically and i wish it wasnt like that #but i do just have to accept its not the avenue for me and that is okay #conversely it does cause my pain to sit up and paint and i cant always hold a brush without pain and using needles bends back my fingers #but its what i need to do to express myself. so i keep working witg it and finding ways to make it accessible to me #im just not willing to do that with crochet or knitting #if you arent willing to find ways to do it. then it is worth thinking about if its something you need and really want to do. or if its just #a nice idea and something that would be cool.

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dragonji · 2 years

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i think. perhaps I need to cry. time to put on the lwj playlist

#j.txt #ive been in. Moods. the past few days and today started fine but i had just the most stressful and frustrating shift at work #for literally no reason and now im just exhausted and somehow both so empty and much too full of emotion to even think and I need them Gone #i truly hope the playlist actually makes me cry bc I dont really have any other ways to get emotional catharsis anymore #so if I dont cry tonight Ill just stow it all away again and have a worse breakdown eventually and much as I hate crying #I would rather just get it over with now. 'dont you go to therapy' yeah but it isnt helping right now lol. even if I try to be vulnerable #and show emotion including letting myself cry in sessions I end up upset at myself for showing a flaw and I Know this is exactly what #going to sessions is for and I should bring this intense aversion I have to expressing my dissatisfaction up but well. points to the #avoidance of showing flaws character trait shown above.#vent

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madamefortressmommyy · 11 months

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If you are ever thinking of an autistic person and say to yourself "I never really have to make any/many accomodations for them."

Yeah.

That is because WE are the ones making the accomodations for YOU.

You always hear about how we need all this support and patience but no one ever talks about the sacrafices ASD people make for he NTs in our lives that they never even see or know about.

Oh, you think I am "well spoken?" Thats cuz i spent a ridiculous amount of time rehearsing my lines and facial expressions to make sure they meet your liking.

I don't seem to have any sensory issues? My guy, i have nerve damage from raw dogging the pain. You ever watch a lactose intolerant person eat dairy? They aint gonna shit their pants in front of you. You dont have to follow them into he bathroom to believe them.

Oh you mean you dont remember me ever having a meltdown? I locked myself on the bathroom to have my "temper tantrums" in private since i was 5 years old.

You think I dont stim? Let me roll up my sleeves and show you the gashes and scars from clawing myself under my shirt. The inside of my mouth looks like a crime scene. I can taste the blood. You cant. I would much rather be "squirming" or wearing very strong perfume but i know that bothers people so i find another way.

You think i am "smart?" Yeah i might be, but that is because i am constantly using my problem solving skills to quietly and covertly solve problems i am not "supposed" to have. Problems that would never even occur to you. Problems you would never even know about because i am fucking terrified of what people would say if they knew it takes me 3 hours to get dressed and shower sometimes.

I have given myself perminant nerve damage just because i was afraid to make other people even a little uncomfy.

You understand body language because it comes naturally to you.

I understand body language because it comes naturally to you.

We are not the same.

#autism #asd #actually autistic #disability #neurodiversity #fibromyalgia #adhd #autism stuff

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drchucktingle · 26 days

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Hello Dr Tingle! I wanted to ask you about that re: your post about how all your books are serious literature (hell yeah Love is real). How do you personally deal with the whole traditional publishing institution? It attracts a whole different level of coverage and it seems that they're very quick to try and box you and like turn you into a brand. Is it stiffling? Is it freeing? Does the attention help more people understand your trot? I don't know I've never been published but since you have experience in both traditional and self publishing I'm interested in knowing how that's feeling for you

well this is a pretty complex question with lots of different trots but i will try my best to answer. lets start with WHO I AM as buckaroo name of chuck

what i create has a very strong voice and my way is pretty recognizable. while buckaroos do not know what most authors look like, i REALLY stand out in a dang crowd with a big pink bag on my head. if you see 50 random author photos and mine is mixed in and then you ask 'which photo do you remember the most?' it is probably gonna be chuck. i also have a VERY UNIQUE STORY with what i create and my artistic sensibilities, not a lot of buds are out there making trans mothman erotica along with their big five traditional publishing bestsellers (SIDENOTE preorder BURY YOUR GAYS)

now if you were going to take 'CHUCK TINGLE' to a marketing department they would FALL OVER BACKWARDS IN THEIR DANG CHAIR with excitement. it is hard to think of an author with a stronger BRAND than i already have in the sense of 'instantly recognizable trot and specific unique style'. even in answering this you can tell that i dont even TALK like other dang authors.

what i am getting at is this: i am VERY VERY LUCKY because my existence just so happens to equate to what a company would see as GOOD BRANDING. it is not intentional on my part, it is just the hand of fate i guess. im out here expressing myself in a FULL ON WAY that is PRETTY DANG STRANGE TO SOME and it just so happens to work as mainstream branding too

on paper you might think 'what the heck no way chuck tingle will fly as a mainstream trot' but honestly the main thread of this timeline can be surprising sometimes. ive been saying the key ingredient for years and i will say it again: LOVE AND SINCERITY RESONATE. when you make art with this fuel, the timeline will feel it. when you stand up tall and shout with your whole chest THIS IS MY WAY AND I LOVE MYSELF. I AM THE WORLDS GREATEST AUTHOR TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT, the timeline will listen

so all that said, i do not mind the idea of myself as 'brand' because i am not CHANGING myself to create this effect. what some might see as 'brand' i just see as another part of my art. i have always believed that art is THE WHOLE EXPERIENCE not just the painting but what is outside of the frame. WHO I AM is just as important as the books i write, and interacting with my way is a whole MULTIMEDIA experience that INCLUDES YOU TOO. it is the feeling when your friend shows you your first tingler cover, or the feeling when you realize that i am not playing a character. this is ALL a part of the tingleverse and it is all a part of my honest raw expression as a queer and neurodivergent buckaroo.

YOU ARE PART OF THIS ART TOO

it is my nature of have a PUNK ROCK trot. always has been. but to me that does not mean just angrily going against everything for the sake of going against everything. for me, this punk rock trot means fighting to EXPRESS MYSELF IN THE MOST HONEST AND PURE FORM POSSIBLE and to create the art that i want to make without any boundaries

somehow i have threaded the needle in this really interesting once-in-a-dang-lifetime kind of way. my pure punk rock self as an OUTERSIDER ARTIST just so happens to resonate with this larger system of brand and traditional publishing and popular culture. i COULD reject this, but rejecting it would be LESS HONEST.

this is just who i am. i LIKE pop culture. i LIKE joy. i LIKE dressing in all pink and wearing my custom suits. I LIKE PROVING LOVE IS REAL WHAT THE HECK ELSE EVEN IS THERE? i love being a queer outsider artist and using my small voice to shout at the big bad devils and i like that every time i shout a few more of you buckaroos join the chorus and together we are just getting louder and louder and louder and WHO KNOWS what comes next for us all trotting together.

when i post something like 'WHAT A GREAT DAY TO PROVE LOVE' it is not me sitting here in a bad mood thinkin 'well i gotta make todays post to keep up with my brand'. i am ACTUALLY FEELING THAT FEELING and i actually believe it with every fiber of my being. honestly, half the time i post about the beauty of this timeline i am probably over here literally crying tears of joy (chuck is an emotional bud i get riled over the joy of existence A LOT)

and heres the best part of this trot: because i really have this punk rock way it makes me very powerful. others can pretend not to care about success and brand and all that but I REALLY DO NO CARE. i would write tinglers whether buds were reading them or not, this is just my natural state, and that makes me incredibly strong. if some big corporation says 'YOU MUST DO THIS' and i dont want to do it i just say 'no thanks'. it is not some big debate about my career or anything like that because I REALLY DO NOT CARE IN THE SLIGHTEST. i care about the art

because of this, my relationship with my GIANT TRADITIONAL PUBLISHING MACHINE is great. we trot like equals and we get along really well. i tell them exactly what i want to do and they let me do it. i really do not have to answer to anyone and they deserve a huge amount of credit for respecting me in this way.

and heres the thing, THEY ALSO HAVE SOME GREAT IDEAS

SPECIFICALLY my imprint of NIGHTFIRE is very dang cool. yes, they are the head of a giant hydra of a BIG FIVE PUBLISHER, but nightfire is SO DANG ART-FOCUSED

there is no right or wrong way to be an artist, and my path is not the only one, but i can tell you what WORKS FOR ME. this is the advice i would give myself, and buckaroos can take it or leave it

here it is: never beg the big book publisher, or record label, or movie studio to pay attention to you

do not let it become a lotto ticket in your brain. do not think that you are some weak little creature and maybe if you trot just right they will scoop you up and take care of you. do not go to their door begging to be let in

LET THEM COME TO YOUR DOOR

create something so incredible and beautiful and honest and powerful and unique and important that they would be foolish to miss out. create a community or a system or a timeline or a world of imagination that thrives on its own and THEY SHOULD BE SO LUCKY TO BE A PART OF IT

then when you sit down at that board meeting it is not 'please brand me, ill do whatever you want'. instead, it is 'lets make a deal and see how much love we can prove together.'

now lets trot buckaroos

#buckaroo lifestyle #chuck tingle #tingleverse

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cranberryjuice-posts · 2 months

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hiii want to say that i just met your blog and i obsessed with it!! i really love your writing. anddd i want to make a abby request, abby and reader are in college and abby is like super popular and when they start to date reader is called “abbys girl” all the time and get super flustered? i dont know if i express myself good, english is not my first language, sorry! hope u have a amazing day, xoxo <3

- Abby’s girl -

Pairings - modern au! Abby Anderson x Fem! Reader

An - this is kinda bad I’m sorry 😭😭 I wasn’t really sure what plot to write but I still appreciate the request.

Everybody was cheering. With only a minute left on the clock the Seattle wolves vrs the Jackson mustangs— one of the oldest lasting rivals on and off the court, were pushing one another around trying to keep Abby from making her shot.

The blonde dodged around trying to avoid the other team. Making it to the 3 point line she threw the ball. Going through the hoop the clock blared at the same time, the referees announced the wolves win making the home side scream with excitement.

Abby shouted happily, making eye contact with you she grinned. Making your way out of the stands was easier said then done.

Eventually getting to the locker room you walked towards Abby’s spot. One of her teammates walked past you taking a moment to say hi. “Shit It’s Abby’s girl, hey she’s just over there the girls are cheering for her”

You felt your face turn red, “oh thanks” with a smile you watched as she walked away before going towards the shouting. Being the girlfriend of the basketball team captain tended to help boost your own reputation. Most of them didn’t know your name only addressing you as ‘Abby’s girl’.

Was it your preferred way of being addressed… well no. But it wasn’t the end of the world, all it did really was embarrass you.

Setting your purse down by Abby’s duffel bag on the bench you watched as the girls other girls crowded around her, chanting Abby’s name while they all celebrated their big win which would now take them to state. You were and always will be Abby’s biggest supporter, no matter what you would never miss any of her games.

She instantly noticed your presence, breaking free abby quickly made her way to you. Grabbing you by the waist she pulled you into a messy kiss. It was full of adrenaline and not coordinated. Pulling back Abby kept her face close to yours. A few of the other girls on the team chuckled at the display making you blush. “Hey” abby flirted against your lips.

“Hi” You giggled “You did amazing out there.. I mean really I genuinely believe Your Gonna win this thing”

“And im Gonna do even better tonight” she continued her cocky streak, pressing your hips against hers.

You rolled your eyes finding her attempts at seduction funny. “Uh huh, I’m gonna wait for you outside ok” kissing her one more time you gasped as she grabbed your ass. You rolled your eyes as you pulled back, giving her a warning look as Abby remained on her high.

—

You sat down on a bench near by the exit. Pulling out your phone you started to scroll on Instagram, trying to decided what to make a post about. That and finding a new restaurant near by to take Abby to, just to celebrate her big win before she actually tried to get you pregnant.

“So your Abby’s girl huh?” A woman spoke. Looking up you were taken back by seeing Ellie Williams the Jackson mustangs team captain.

Confused you nodded “uh yeah..”

She just scoffed. “How the hell did she manage to pull you” standing up you grabbed your purse, Ellie knew you had been offended by what she said.

“First of all she didn’t pull anyone, how we got into a relationship was because she’s a good person and secondly” you looked her up and down “why are you even over here, your bus is on the other side of campus”

“Damn, I was just asking” she laughed crossing her arms “but seriously though Abby? Her being a good person, that’s total bullshit she’s anything but good, besides I can do anything she does”

“Except win a Game”

You could tell Ellie was starting to loose her patience. Why was she over by you, to hell if you knew. There was a tense silence between you both, before she could speak the back door opened.

Abby stood tall and strong as always only her former grin was replaced with a look of disgust. Getting up you walked over to her, kissing her cheek. “Williams”

“Anderson”

Both girls staring at each-other with a Look of hate, You had heard Time and time again the rivalry between the two schools and between their families. “Why are You over here, and better question why are you talking to my girl”

“Fuck dude nobody’s trying to fight Dina just forgot her bag inside I offered to come get it.” Ellie looked at one once again before gesturing her head to Abby. “Your Girl seems like a real catch, guess you got lucky”

“Guess i did” her response was harsh. At this point you were fed up with the conversation and dealing with Ellie. Grabbing Abby’s hand you pulled her away.

——

Sitting on Abby’s bed you laughed softly at watching her go on a rant. “And don’t get me started on Joel the sheer fucking audacity of that man! He punched my dad because he couldn’t help Ellie. I repeat he punched MY DAD— why are you laughing”

“Nothing Nothing its Just.. your really cute when you get mad” Abby flipped you off making you laugh once again. After a moment she sat down on the bed beside you, taking a calming breath she leaned over kissing you softly, slowly, sensually.. pulling back she gently squeezed your hand.

“What did I do to deserve you” she muttered.

“Not much but working out and getting buff and being blonde helped, you know the important shit” you gave her a charismatic smile

“Your not Funny”

“I’m hilarious”

#lesbian #wlw #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson tlou2 #abby headcanons #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson #tlou fluff #tlou fanfiction #tlou2 #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us

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ohdeerfully · 2 months

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hi!! i absolutely love your writing, you write alastor so so well and i absolutely devoured everything you have posted... would you by any chance be open to writing alastor with a f!reader who has an eating disorder/anorexia? <3 it's a triggering topic so i totally understand if you'd rather not! 💖 i've just recently been stressed about feeling like i need to lose weight again despite already having lost quite a lot and it just feels. never enough, so i would much appreciate some comfort! thank you for sharing your writing with us! 💖

hi my love!! i know you requested this some time ago, and i hope youve been feeling better (,: i also struggle with this type of thing so i 100% dont mind writing about it, but just know that you are super beautiful and worth every sweet treat and meal you get!!! mwah mwah mwah i hope you like the story ^.^

Ma Moitié

Alastor x Reader (fluff/comfort)

TW: eating disorder!!! alastor is def OOC hes being a sweetie pie join my discord!

◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈

You always had a poor relationship with your body and food, in life and in death. You went through periods of weight loss, gain, loss again—some seemingly never ending cycle that no amount of therapy has managed to halt.

Your mind was currently weighing the pros and cons of eating the slice of cake offered to you by Charlie. She was celebrating the arrival of a few new residents, the first to arrive since the last extermination. The news really helped the hotel garner some attention, that plus the fancy new renovation Lucifer himself helped with… needless to say, Charlie was thrilled. So, she threw a little party. You had been standing awkwardly near the doorway, trying to find an opportunity to slip away from the small party. But you doubted you could escape without your absence being noticed; there really weren't that many people here to begin with.

You had accepted the cake out of sheer politeness, but you now just held the plate loosely in your hands, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you thought. You’ve been feeling particularly… susceptible to the calories in food lately. You considered the fact that you hadn’t eaten much today—or, honestly, the whole week for that matter. It shouldn’t hurt to just have one slice of cake. Just this once.

But… still…

You frowned down at the cake. Picking up the plastic fork, you took a tiny chunk from it and lifted it to your lips. Your lips quivered as the food touched your tongue, and you felt sick as you chewed. You managed to swallow after an unnecessarily long few seconds of chewing, and you continued to just stare down at your plate. You didn’t think you’d be able to handle another bite.

Niffty had seen the sickly expression on your face, and loudly started throwing questions at you. Were you sick? Did you hate the party? Why didn’t you like the cake she made? Her loud voice was growing in volume, and catching the attention of a few other demons in the room. You tried various ways to shush her, attempting to answer her questions politely, but you felt your heart rate pick up at the obviously growing number of eyes.

“I’m not incredibly fond of sweets myself,” You heard that radio-afflicted voice pipe up from behind. You couldn’t help but jump at the unexpected presence, but you turned your head with a light smile. Alastor was looking curiously down at Niffty and you.

“Ah, yeah, the cake’s great, I just… don’t like dessert that much…” You lied. You actually really liked cake, but it had been a long time since you were actually able to enjoy it without feeling intensely guilty about it. The tiny demon made a fussy comment about how nobody appreciated her and all of her hard work, stomping away. Her mood didn’t last, though, immediately getting caught up in cleaning something you couldn’t even see.

You turned your head to thank Alastor, but you saw his smile drop slightly as he looked at you. The demon bent at the waist to lean down, his mouth near your ear and his usually boisterous voice quieted to a whisper. “Is everything alright, mon coeur?”

You felt your face heat up, both at the words he spoke and the proximity. You and Alastor had been quietly ‘official’ for quite a while now, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the small gestures of affection from the Radio Demon. It felt weird if you thought about it too long.

“I’m okay, just…” You weren’t sure how open you wanted to be about how you were feeling. Alastor knew about your poor body image and eating habits, but he truthfully never really knew how to go about comforting you. Plus, you felt as if your personal struggles were trivial to a literal Overlord of Hell. You didn’t want to bother him with your own shit.

“I’m fine,” You finally decided. You could tell Alastor knew you were lying, with that furrow of his eyebrows, but he stood up straight and didn’t push. You sighed and gently placed the plate of cake down on a small entryway table by the door you had been lurking near.

“I’ll get us out of here,” He declared with a wide smile, and he strode forward to where Charlie stood talking to the group of new guests. She knew Alastor was approaching due to the look of horror that slowly crossed the new demon’s faces. You couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but it looked like she briefly scolded Alastor for being so damn intimidating for no reason.

They chatted for a moment, and you could hear the Radio Demon’s obnoxious laughter from across the room. He gestured to himself, then to you, to which Charlie looked in your direction. You shot her a small smile. She smiled back, nodded, and turned away to continue talking to the new residents—who all had been slowly inching away from Alastor. They looked incredibly relieved when he left the group.

He gave you a grin and wordlessly threaded his arm around yours, linking you at the elbow. You lifted your hand to give his upper arm an appreciative squeeze as you left the room. Your eyes lingered on the abandoned slice of cake as you walked away, feeling guilty in more ways than one.

Alastor had led you to your room, releasing your arm and leaning his body weight on his cane as he looked down at you. You glanced up at him, then back down, pursing your lips as you stared at anything else in the room.

“I hate when demons lie to me,” He said, eyes narrowed. Of course, you knew he wasn’t truly mad at you. Maybe frustrated. “What’s wrong.” It was more like a statement than a question. A demand.

You sat heavily down on the edge of your bed, fiddling with your fingers.

“I don’t know, Al,” You muttered. You hated this. “I just… You know how I get sometimes.” It somehow felt so silly, telling him about this.

Alastor had sat down next to you, his arm wrapped over your shoulder and a clawed hand rubbing up and down your forearm. You could tell his touch was light, awkward, unsure—but the gesture was appreciated nonetheless. While Alastor typically had no problem overstepping boundaries and shoving demons around purely to aggravate them, he obviously had no real idea how to be intimate and kind. But he tried for you.

He took his other hand and slipped it under your legs, swiftly lifting you and pulling you further up the bed. He leaned his body against the headboard, and dragged you over to lay your torso against his own.

“I don’t understand why you worry about all this, dear,” He mused, his fingers threading through your hair. His other hand graced past your stomach, which caused you to subconsciously flinch away. You felt his hand pause, but he didn’t mention it.

“I wish I didn’t have to,” You responded slowly, your cheek squished against his chest. “But I’ve dealt with this since I was alive. I feel like it’ll never get better.”

“Dearest, you have a whole eternity here,” He mused in response. He placed a finger under your chin and craned your head to meet his gaze. “You need to be strong to survive down here; to stay sane. A healthy body leads to a healthy mind.”

Of course Alastor was always thinking about strength and survival. He was an Overlord, after all. You didn’t respond to him, but you kept looking at him as he spoke. There was an odd look in his eyes as he talked.

“Plus,” He continues. His words were slow, and his mouth moved as if the words tasted unnatural on his tongue. This uncertainty that touched the Radio Demon’s voice was… rare, to say the least. “I want to see ma moitié happy. I am… incredibly devoted to you.”

Your ear pricked when you noticed the radio frequency in his voice completely dropped when he spoke the words. That look in his eyes—you finally recognized it as some odd sense of passion and endearment. An emotion that you could tell confused him, with the strain in his brow as he examined you. He meant the words he said, no matter how unnatural they felt leaving his mouth.

You rested your head back down on his chest. You knew this conversation wouldn’t “cure” you or anything, but you hoped that maybe you could think back on his words everytime your hands shook as you held a fork to your mouth. Of all demons in Hell, Alastor’s opinion was probably the most important to you, and you knew his devotion wouldn’t halt because of a few pounds; Alastor had to be deeply, deeply passionate about you to even let you lay on top of him like this.

You only hummed in response, and simply rested your head back against his chest. You hugged your arm tightly against him to try to convey that you appreciated his words, but you didn’t really know what to say.

“Would you join me for breakfast tomorrow?” Alastor asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “I know this wonderful place that I frequent for coffee…”

You thought for a moment, again weighing the pros and cons; a habit that you struggled to drop when it came to meals. Your mind was buzzing with thoughts of what kind of food might be there, and if you should ration out the meals for the rest of the day. But, you felt the thoughts melt away when Alastor’s hand rubbed a comforting circle against your cheek, and then trailing down towards your shoulder in a light squeeze.

“Okay,” you finally said. It wouldn’t hurt to have a decent meal for once. You pulled yourself up onto your elbows again to look at Alastor. “Sounds awesome.”

His smile twisted up, his teeth peeking through a small gap in his lips. His head inched forward, but then paused, and you could tell his mind was racing with various thoughts. You waited for him to decide and, after a few moments, he closed the gap and lightly pressed his lips against yours. It was brief, as most intimate contact with him was, but you enjoyed it while it lasted.

“You will always be my only weakness,” Alastor admitted tenderly. “The most captivating demon in all of Hell.”

You couldn’t stop the shy smile that spread across your face at his words. You sputtered out some awkward response, to which he simply hummed and smiled at. He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the headboard, his fingers still playing with your hair gently.

You followed suit, resting your head against his chest and closing your own eyes. You didn’t even realize how tired you were, too caught up in the rare intimacy with Alastor. You let your worries of breakfast fade away, choosing to just enjoy the warmth of his body so close to yours.

#ohdeerfully #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #fluff #comfort #eating disorder #TW: eating disorder #TW: disordered eating #disordered eating

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allur1ngs · 5 months

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funny thought I had: hyo asking reader for dating advice and reader being like “lose the sunglasses” yk cause hyo has pretty eyes and her being like “but I can’t they’re basically a part of me” and “they make me look cool” “dont girls like that sort of thing??”💀 imagine bada overhearing and telling hyo not to get any funny ideas and to focus on her work 😭 — @aericrys

AERI. THIS IS GOLD!! 🕶️

“What, in your opinion, makes a woman attractive?” Hyo asks you.

You pause. You're currently standing on a ladder, about to reach for another book to read from the Lee mansion’s private and extensive library. “Where’s this coming from?”

Hyo sighs, moving to lean against the ceiling-tall bookshelf behind her. “Promise you won’t make fun of me?”

“Oh come on Hyo, do I seem like the type of friend to do that?”

Hyo cranes her neck up so she makes eye contact with you, quirking her eyebrow with an unamused expression.

“Okay, maybe I am…” you laugh lightheartedly. “But I promise I won’t this time.”

“And you won’t tell the girls or the Boss either,” Hyo adds.

“I won’t, I promise.”

Your bodyguard lets out a dramatic sigh. “I was thinking about getting back into dating–”

“No, way! Really?” You say excitedly, while grabbing the book you wanted.

“Yeah,” Hyo nods. “So I downloaded this dating app–”

“Oh Hyo…” you wince, closing your eyes and shaking your head. “A dating app?”

“What? I thought that’s what people normally do these days,” she says.

“A lot of young people do use dating apps, yes, but mostly for hookups,” you climb up the ladder more, locating another book from your list. “It’s kind of a mixed bag if you want a serious relationship to come from it.”

“Well, I already downloaded it and made a profile,” Hyo huffs. “But all the women I keep matching with suddenly stop messaging me back.”

“Can I see the pictures you have on your profile?” You look down to see Hyo nod, then slowly climb down from the tall ladder, multiple books still cradled in the crook of your arm.

Hyo pulls out her phone, opens the dating app, then shows you her profile.

The pictures aren’t terrible, but they aren’t great either. Although Hyo’s very good at taking photos for other people, it’s clear she hasn’t figured out her angles very well. She has a few taken at slightly awkward angles, but she also looks pretty good in them. You suppose it’s the advantage of being a more masculine woman–you can look good without even trying. And with Hyo already having naturally attractive features, she has a leg up.

“Okay, I already see a massive problem Hyo.” You look over at her, a frown settling on your lips. “You look like you’re scared of the camera in all your pictures.”

“What?” Hyo takes back her phone, squinting at her screen. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” You point at a picture where she’s half smiling, half deadpanning, making an odd combination for an expression. “You look terrified.”

“I’m not–”

“But honestly, you could have gotten away with it if you just did one thing.” You cut her off.

“Wha–”

“Take off your sunglasses!” You exclaim, pointing at the black-tinted shades placed on top of her nose bridge.

“What? No!” Hyo says back, her pitch rising. “I can’t, they’re a part of my look.”

“Your look,” you gesture to her figure, “screams ‘I work for a mafia boss, and you should be scared of me!’”

“No, the sunglasses make me look cool,” Hyo argues back, shaking her head. “Wait… they make me look cool, right?”

“Yes Hyo, they can make you look cool, but coupled with the way you dress and your deadpan attitude, it makes you seem cold through text,” you state. “Taking off your sunglasses will show a more human part of you. Besides, you have nice eyes, you shouldn’t hide them.”

“I don’t know…” Hyo trails off, touching the frames of her sunglasses. She shakes her head, “Okay, then tell me what else I can do to make myself more attractive to women.”

“Quite the interesting question to be asking my fiancée, Hyo.” Bada’s voice suddenly echoes through the library, her tall frame standing right next to the door. She has her arms crossed over her chest, and one eyebrow raised upward as she stares your bodyguard down.

“Bada!” You smile widely at her.

“Hello,” she says, a natural and soft smile finding her lips easily as she approaches you. “I took a break and wanted to see you.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” You glance over at Hyo, who’s frozen still in her spot. “We were just talking about–”

“It’s alright, I heard everything.” Bada interrupts you.

“Oh…” You trail off, then nudge Hyo in an attempt at breaking her out of her stupor.

“All I can say is that women like it when you show them a more vulnerable side of yourself.” Your fiancée stops right in front of you and takes the heavy books you’re carrying out of your arms, holding them like their combined weight is nothing.

You shake your arms, having not even realized that they had begun to ache under the weight of the multiple books you’d been carrying. “Thank you.” You say, latching onto Bada’s unoccupied arm.

“You’re welcome, honey,” she says softly, before glancing at Hyo (who is still rooted in her spot), with mild annoyance. “Next time, instead of asking my fiancée for dating advice, do your job and help her carry her books, Hyo.”

Your bodyguard finally springs to life, nodding rapidly. “Yes, Boss.”

#౨ৎ melody's mafia au #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada lee #bada #street woman fighter 2 x reader #swf2 x reader #not including the taglist because it's more like a hyo and reader bonding moment w a bit of bada on the side

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officialspec · 2 months

Note

What do you think gay men are attracted to in men that they can’t be attracted to in women?

It can’t be anything about femininity or masculinity obviously. That’s both sexist, and cultural so can’t be what drives men-only attraction.

It can’t be anything about stated identity because someone could lie just as easily as they could tell the truth in such a statement, and it makes no sense because homosexuality and heterosexuality exists in other species with no stated identities. It’s not like other animals without gender are all pan.

Saying idk it’s the vibes or some indescribable trait men have that women can’t but “I can’t explain” is a nonanswer.

Soooooooo what is it? Or do you think any sexuality but bi/pan is just cultural performance or an identity rather than an inborn orientation?

- [ ]

first off i hate this ask and i think youre a freak. in any other world i wouldve blocked you for this but unfortunately for both of us i actually like this type of philosophy. dont send this shit to anyone else though

i dont think its right to compare human sexuality to the same thing in animals, to get that out of the way. im sure until a certain point it comes from the same biological impulses, but human beings have way more complicated social structures and reasons for coupling that just do not exist in other animals. our social behaviours are what make us unique in the animal kingdom and that definitely extends to gender and sexuality. so theres that

people love to tout 'gender is a social construct' around like its a criticism in and of itself, which i think betrays a misunderstanding about social constructs in general. theyre the foundations we build language on to better understand each other, and affected by a whole host of cultural and historical factors. just because theyre subjective and complicated doesnt mean they arent real. in terms of the effect they have on peoples lives they may be the most real thing that exists

for example, 'kindness' is a social construct. the definition and ways it is enacted differ greatly across personal and cultural lines. but no one would ever suggest a world where kindness doesnt exist or loses meaning, because its an essential part of the way we interact with each other (in the same way i dont really see a world where gender entirely ceases to exist, mainly just one where people have more fun with it. im not a psychic though so who knows)

similarly, sexuality in humans is another social construct. i think the driving biological forces behind it are very real, but the labels people attach to those impulses are subjective attempts to express their inner world to the people around them if that makes sense. and those same biological impulses are ALSO subject to social ideas of gender, because those ideas are established at birth and reinforced over a persons entire lifetime

to use myself as an example, im a gay trans man. ive identified as other things in the past, because i was trying to pick apart feelings i had and express them to others in an attempt to find community. my identity might change as i get older and experience new things, or it might not. i identify as gay because im not attracted to the social concept of women, and someone i would otherwise be attracted to might lose all appeal after i find out they fall under that concept (this has happened before w transfems pre and post coming out lol)

of course, the real REAL answer to this is that trying to give queer identities rigid and objective definitions is a fools errand, and also lame as fuck. someone might identify as gay and be more attracted to general masculinity than men as a social category, maybe they fool around with a couple of butch women without considering themself any less gay. two otherwise identical people might be a butch lesbian and a gay trans man without either of those identities coming into conflict. they might even be the same person at different times of the week

the labels people choose to use are communication tools, not objective signifiers. if you dont understand them, they probably arent talking to you

social constructs are everything. we as humans have the unique ability to interpret our own messy desires and impulses into words that other people can use to form an idea of someone else in their mind. its how we build connections, and of course it isnt perfect because trying to squeeze someones entire personal history and the centuries of context that defined it into a handful of syllables is going to leave some room for error. but its all we have, yknow? so we keep trying. and i think thats much more human than any imposed objective 'truth' could ever be

tldr we live in a society dipshit. get with it

#ask #long post #i feel like i should tag for the ask bc it sucks but idk what so like. lmk #gender #trans stuff #i love you language philosophy i love you messy human relationships i love you contradictory identities

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hydrobunny · 1 year

Text

jump then fall (into me)

tags: fluff, established relationship, insecure reader, comfort, reo reo reo reo reo reo, lots of dialogue actually, they're drinking age, listen to jump then fall !! word count: 1.2k

“do you ever regret us?”

reo mikage jolts from his seat at his computer. the expression he fixes you with as he turns around is almost comical, all wide eyes and horror.

you can’t find it in yourself to laugh.

“what?”

you shift nervously. the satin sheets underneath you bunch awkwardly. “you know. getting together- staying together.”

he rises immediately, emails left for a later time. “what happened.” the words themselves should be a question, but his stiff tone doesn’t make it one.

you sigh, falling back on to the bed. although it’s only been two nights since the two of you checked in to this particular hotel, the bed already smells of reo’s expensive shampoo. “i dont know. sometimes i feel like i’m holding you back.”

his weight sinks into the mattress. “how the hell would you hold me back?”

you drag your hands over your face. “you’re just- you’re so you. heir to billions of yen, future ceo, hotshot football player, and you’re just barely in your twenties. shouldn’t you be out there in the wild getting into scandals every week? but you’re always just... here.”

“y/n.” even through tightly shut eyes, you can feel reo’s intense gaze on you. “is this really because you think i want to be out there making a fool of myself?” his hand gently brushes over your hair. “also, why would i get into scandals when i have you?”

you roll away with a groan. “it's not that. just- shouldn't you have had more relationships than just me? you know, all the first meetings and awkward flirting and shit. you were popular as all hell in high school, but somehow you’re still with me? isn’t it boring?”

his hand freezes, and you feel a small inkling of guilt bleed through your heart.

after a long moment, reo rises from the bed without another word. He grabs his jacket from the chair as he pads out of the room, away from you.

you shove a pillow over your face and fight the urge to scream, sigh in relief, suffocate yourself, anything.

twenty minutes later, when you’ve reached a point of contemplating if those roses in the hotel vase are fake- (they’re in water, but you swear they smell exactly like those essential oils in scented candles)- your phone vibrates from its place on the desk.

you reluctantly lift yourself up, sliding your feet into your waiting fluffy slippers. reo’s computer is still turned on from before he left, some fancy computer program steadily running. you spot a hint of a message thread with nagi before you tear your eyes away.

the notification is from your messages, from none other than reo 🦎💜 himself.

the message itself is pretty short, unlike the usually wordy messages reo sends you consistently throughout the day.

come down to hotel bar. look nice

it takes you some time to actually comprehend the message, more than a few seconds spent blinking at it blankly.

and then you’re immediately digging into your suitcase for anything considered “nice.” honestly, did reo expect you to be able to procure outfits without any hint of the dress code? was he expecting family dinner or clubbing?

and what the hell was even with this request anyway? you were pretty sure your boyfriend had a business meeting in barely forty minutes, and it’s not like you two had ended your conversation on good terms.

either way, you settle on something in between wholesome and provocative, a pretty flattering cocktail dress you hadn’t really even planned on bringing. after a moment of contemplation, you leave your hair down, sliding in a pair of glittering earrings.

honestly, you weren’t even sure why you were trying so hard.

but when you arrive at the bar some minutes later, reo isn’t there. in fact, there’s no one there except for a stiff bartender slowly wiping down a glass. you hesitate from your place by the doorway, shooting off a here. dont see you? message.

he leaves you on read.

it takes you another six minutes of disbelief before you finally walk into the bar, and then it’s a short two minutes of fuming before you call for your first drink.

throughout it all, you see no hint of anyone; no reo, no drunk couples, no rich guests, no one. it would actually be kind of creepy if you had it in yourself to look around or care, but you really don’t.

ten minutes later, it’s when you’re nursing your second drink of the night ( a daiquiri that honestly is not getting you drunk fast enough ) that you hear another human voice.

“haven’t seen you before, pretty. can i pay for that drink?”

your mood immediately plummets as you turn with a scowl, ready to tell whoever it is enough curses to- oh.

reo smirks at you, flashing his card towards the bartender. you stare at him in disbelief. he’s in a completely new outfit from when you saw him last, something that is definitely not appropriate for his upcoming meeting. he has a leather jacket on, for gods’ sake!

“what the fuck are you doing?” you manage to say, realizing that you’re supposed to be mad at him. “do you realize how long i’ve been waiting?”

he pointedly doesn’t respond. “another round please, for me and the lonely lady!” he says before turning back to you. “so. what brings a girl like you here?”

you literally have no idea what he’s doing. you open your mouth to respond - with what, you couldn’t say- but then reo winks at you, quick enough that you barely notice.

the words fall out of your mouth without you even realizing. “what’s it to you?”

he hums, looking you up and down. “is it wrong to want to comfort a clearly sad stranger? come on, spill out all your secrets.”

you fight the urge to smile. “well, if you say it like that…i guess i’m trying to heal my broken heart.”

he responds a beat too late. “really? what idiot broke your heart?”

“no, i was the idiot,” you sigh, looking back towards your glass. “i was a bitch for no reason. got too caught up in my head, you know?”

his hands fly to yours. “i do know. and i’m sure your idiot knows as well. in fact, if i was the guy in question, i would have told you that nothing you can do would hurt me. that any time spent with you is infinitely better than time spent with any other women.”

you meet his eyes and smile. “and if you happened to be that guy, i would probably kiss you right then and there.”

reo swallows, hard. “yeah?”

you lean toward him. “too bad you’re not him.” you stand from your seat, grinning at how your boyfriend sputters instantly, almost knocking over his cup.

your shoes click clack a rhythmic beat onto the hotel floor as you head back toward the elevator.

seconds later, reo’s familiar form bumps into you, arm linking around your waist.

“i think that was first date was awkward enough, yeah?” he says breathlessly.

you lean further into him. “it was perfect. but i think i prefer my boyfriend.”

“good thing you’re looking at him. which means..”

you laugh, stopping. “which means this.”

you tiptoe upward and finally kiss reo. he tastes like watermelon chapstick and expensive rum.

// bonus//

“hey, reo?”

“yes?”

“did you rent out that entire bar so we would be alone?”

his silence is response enough.

I loveee reblogs and comments !! <33

#reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #hydrobunny #ngl this was supposed to be sae again LOL

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mysumeow · 1 year

Text

Wanderer/Scaramouche and Albedo (separately)

Warnings: explicit breeding talk in albedo's one, overstim for both but especially on wanderer's section. afab genitals, gn pronouns.

a/n: "ill take a nap" proceeds to in fact not take a nap and write smut drabbles. i dont have.......any type of comment about this x_x

💌 . .SCARAMOUCHE/WANDERER

"Mind repeating what you said a few moments ago?"

You gripped the sheets and arched your back, ready to cry again if he was planning to stop and start from the beginning. You lost track of how many times he had worked you close to your orgasm, only to stop just right before you could reach it.

"I—ahh, what?" you tried to buck your hips against him, and he clamped his hands harder on your hip bones, causing pain.

"Do I have to remind you? You truly are the definition of all bark and no bite," he squinted, a silent threat if you moved again without permission. "Something about how I wouldn't be able to last more than two minutes? That I'm small and cute?"

"I didn't mean it in a bad way!"

"I don't care how you meant it. All I care about is showing you how small and cute I can really be," judging by the sadistic glint in his eyes and smile, you knew the underlying meaning.

He's going to make you cry.

More than you already were, at least.

Wanderer's not one to complain when he has to put his darling in place, he enjoys all sides you show him. When you're sweet and obedient, or when you do nothing more than make him clench his jaw and switch up his sadistic streak.

"Don't make me repeat myself again," he said, moving his hand to pinch your sore nipple, which had been suckled raw minutes earlier.

"Ow!" you took a sharp breath, and despite the pain, the pleasured spot between your legs became even more drenched. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please let me cum,"

"And here I thought you would be able to withstand it," he sneered, his grin widening. "You've been good, I'll give you what you desire,"

He also likes to play rough, your entire neck and collarbones littered with love bites, your most erogenous spots exploited until you were left nothing but a trembling mess; it was nothing alike to how he then proceeded to tenderly caress your warm cheek with the back of his hand...

Until he grabbed your wrists and resumed his unrelenting thrusting.

"You're going too hard," you whined, you were about to orgasm. "I want to cum with you,"

He groaned and grazed your bottom lip with his thumb, which he then gently pushed into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue.

"I know you can take it."

💌 . .ALBEDO

There was no room in your body left to accommodate his cum's thick volume; more of it spilled with each determined thrust of his hips, hands pushing your legs as close to your chest as they could.

You couldn't even form a coherent sentence or make any sounds other than heavy breathing and whining.

With a very obscene moan, he separated to take a good look at your disheveled and dazed state, your pretty eyes bright with tears and reddened lips from all his biting and kissing.

"One more, please?" he whined, drool-covered fingers playing with your sensitive clit.

"'Bedo, there's so much already," you cried from oversensitivity as his semen trickled down from your sore pussy.

"Not enough. I have to make sure there's no way you're not knocked up after I'm done with you," he leaned down again to tightly hug your body, and you knew what was about to happen. "This is what you wanted, right? To be thoroughly bred by me?"

You locked your legs around his frame, and, despite the evident ache in your muscles, you nodded.

This time, it was the vulnerable flesh of your neck that was the focus of Albedo's heated kisses and possessive marking. Your body shuddered at the unyielding pace he thrust against you. His drive to breed you was absolute, the way he clasped your torso left no wiggle room for you to not feel everything he expressed to you.

There was no way you could formulate a coherent sentence; you couldn't even say you were about to cum.

"Aah—You're—" he tried to focus, but words left him too as his own orgasm hazed his mind, his frame trembled from the intensity.

Yet, another heavy load delivered right into you.

Albedo was right. There's no way you're not knocked up after this.

#albedo smut #genshin smut #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #/ᐠ - ˕ -マ .. smut

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cordeliawhohung · 4 months

Note

js discovered ur blog recently and i am FED. im gobbling up the writings ur brain has created god bless🙏🏻

what do you think of mafia!price reacting to his wife being insecure about her stretch marks from her pregnancy/postpartum?

ive been so worked up over my stretch marks cause ive been gaining weight recently😭😭 btw, its totally cool if u dont wanna do this...

remember to take care of urself ya :3👍❗️❗️🔥🔥🔥

thank you so much!! and oh my god i have THOUGHTS about this. i gained 40ish pounds in the span of a few months and my stretch marks are so deep i can run my fingers over them and FEEL them and it took me a while to learn that it's natural and to accept them as a part of myself, but god is it freeing. anyway. story.

mafia!141 masterlist

warnings: body image issues, slight postpartum depression, hurt/comfort, fem!reader

You don't look in mirrors anymore.

Before you had your beautiful bundle of joy, your reflection had never bothered you. Really, there wasn't really anything you felt at all when you looked into one. All a mirror had been was just a tool. Something to guide your hands when styling your hair or to ensure you had cleansed the makeup from your face.

So quickly had that tool become a weapon.

Wretched and cruel, all the mirror seemed to reflect those days was everything you tried to ignore. The stretch of your skin, those atrocious lines that plagued your stomach and thighs; your eyes were magnetized to them every time you looked at yourself. Most of all, it reminded you that the day you gave birth to your daughter, you had become more than just a mother. You became a spectacle.

It's why you started wearing baggy clothes around the house because if you could muddle the shape of your body, maybe you could blur the crevices that shredded your skin. So when your darling husband snuck up behind you while you worked on folding laundry in the bedroom, your immediate instinct was to push him away. Despite how warm his arms felt around you with large, thick hands smoothing over your stomach, you were terrified he'd feel the parts of you that were broken.

"Everything alright, love?" John asked softly at your rejection. His fingertips slowly slipped off of your body but lingered as if he regretted the movement, and they seared as if he had dug claws into you, refusing to let go.

"Yeah," you answered, but you hated how broken you sounded, even to your own ears.

Your lie was obvious, not just in the tone of your voice but in the posture of your body. How sweaty hands held a half folded shirt against your stomach as if you could hide away the shame that ate away at you. Stepping to the side, John slowly lowered your hands away from you body and turned you to face him where you were met with the watery hue of his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he questioned, all but ripping the answer from your mouth.

You hated the way your lip trembled, how your shame crashed against you with such overwhelming force you nearly suffocated. There were countless times when you had been bare in front of him, laid out perfectly in bed or on top of him with a sweaty body and quickened breath. So why did you feel more stripped in that moment than any other?

"Do you... still think I'm pretty?" you choked out.

John's expression didn't change much after those words left your mouth. It was as if he already knew what ailed you. In a way, he always seemed to know you better than you knew yourself.

"Do you think you are?" he countered.

"Not anymore."

He had expected that answer too, and yet still couldn't hide the way he nearly winced. You braced yourself for his rebuttal, for the string of words telling you that you were beautiful, that you were crazy to think otherwise. Your whole life, self deprecation was always met with stern correction, because god forbid you ever felt a little insecure.

But it wasn't that way with John.

Instead, he sunk to the ground until he was on his knees, and when he took your hands into his it felt as if he was proposing all over again. The love in his eyes, the way his thumbs ran over your knuckles, it was all so intimate, so raw, and your throat grew tight at the sight.

"You brought a beautiful, perfect girl into our lives," he said softly. His eyes didn't stray from you for even a moment. "Carried her for months. Nourished her; still nourishing her. I think it's a little unfair to expect yourself to stay unchanged. Doesn't make you any less beautiful. You're still my wife. My girl. The mother of my child."

It was impossible to stop the tears from spilling, and they only fell harder the moment John leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against your stomach. So tender, as if embracing an open wound and healing it all in the same motion. It was so kind, too kind, and it forced all of your thoughts and held back words to dissipate in the back of your throat.

"Darling, you're the love of my life," he said in a near whisper, "don't ever forget that."

#mafia!price #mafia!141 #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #f!reader

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 11 months

Note

wait damn it i dont think i was anon making that request so HIYA AGAIN 💀💀 (basically this is just restating my request)

foaming at the mouth for peter quill (per usual) so this is a peter req! so maybe smthn abt reader stealing his shirt/s like hes trying to find one and hes like okay where did all my shirts go and then he sees reader all comfy in his shirt and he just MELTS 🥰

Hopefully you can do this soon, ur like famous so u have like 1000 requests LMAO have a great rest of your week/end!

-🪐

hii again🪐!! and dw you were anon for that request😭😭 this is so stinking cute! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 have a great rest of you week too<3 also wanna know something funny? I have 2 of his tshirts, he left them at mine ;)

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Peter Quill x f reader

wc || 0.8k

warnings || none just fluff

masterlist + rules

taglist

There are many great attributes about Quill, and sometimes there are too many to list. But one thing in particular, is his style. Despite his knack for good music and food, there's just something about his clothes that often made you gawk.

Over the years, Peter has acquired quite the collection of fun and funky t-shirts, most of them bought on various planets as souvenirs after a mission or even as little gifts from you.

Quill has so many tops that he couldn't possibly have use for every single one, so more often than not, you'd find yourself riffling through his drawers to steal one or five of his t-shirts. His clothes always smell so comforting and homely that you couldn't stop yourself from stealing, even if you wanted to. Your favourite shirts of his are from his slightly chubbier days. They'd feel so soft and comfortable against your skin that you'd often wear them day and night. The bigger the top, the more loved it felt. But you weren't being picky because you loved literally anything he wore. He could wear a trash bag, and as long as it smelt like him, you'd wear that trash bag too.

So today, like any other day, instead of picking your clothes from your side of the closet, you scrounge over to his side, flicking through the hangers to see what you want to wear. 'Happening' upon his grey, long sleeve with white writing, you quickly remove his other t-shirt you were wearing, flinging it across the room into the dirty pile before dressing yourself. Slipping on a pair of joggers, you make your way to the living room, plopping yourself down on the sofa, and wrapping a fluffy blanket over you.

A few short minutes later, Peter is standing in the doorway with a towel draped over his lower half, tiny beads of water covering his chest. "Ahem," he says quietly, a sly smirk on his lips. "Uh- why can't I find any of my clothes?" he asks, sounding like he already knew the answer.

"Maybe they're in the dirty pile," you playfully lie with a deadpan expression, avoiding his gaze. "We haven't done any laundry in a little while. I'm sure there's stuff in there,"

"Hm, okay, right. But the thing is, I was sorta planning on wearing this one top today," sheepishly smiling, ruffling through his wet curls. "Don't suppose you've seen a grey long-sleeve?"

"Nope, haven't seen it," you coyly grin, bringing the blanket to your neck, covering the evidence.

"Yeah?" he hums, making his way over to you. "You sure you haven't seen it?"

"Nope," you repeat, shaking your head.

"So if I just..." he says slowly, reaching for the blanket.

You copy him, reaching for his towel, playful eyes as you threaten to tug the fabric down. He looks down at you and shrugs. Grinning. "Do it. I don't care,"

"Okay, alright, fine. I'm wearing it," you cave, ripping away the blanket. "I couldn't help it," you bribe, sweet eyes dancing up at him.

"How long you been stealing my clothes?" he asks, his tone full of warmth, chuckling.

"Not long," you lie. "But I really can't help it, okay, Pete? It's a problem. I can't stop myself," you say playfully, brushing over your arms as if to show your comfort. "See?"

He stares down at you, his eyes full of admiration. "Yeah? That why I have no clothes left?"

"You have tonnes of clothes. You have so many you didn't even realise they were missing," you say impishly, eyebrows quirking. "They just smell like you," you shrug, a sweet smile on your lips. "You're not mad?"

Shaking his head. "Nah, they look better on you anyway," he grins. "But, have you seen that dark blue one? The one with uh-- the um, light blue circle smile face thing?"

"Maybe... sorry. I wore that the other week," you playfully frown. "But it's clean," you bribe. "I washed it right after. It should be in that pile over there," Pointing.

"Mhmm," he says with squinted eyes and a grin.

He returns half-dressed with the t-shirt in hand, swinging it as he makes his way back to you. "I wanna wear that one," pointing to you. "I wanna smell you," he says quietly, practically inaudible.

"What?" you grin, only hearing fragments.

"I wanna smell you, now give it," he repeats loud enough for you to hear, his fingers grabbing towards you. "I’m getting cold— look my nipples could cut glass, hurry,"

"But it smells like you,"

He boyishly grins as if he's thought of an idea. He puts on the blue top, rubbing over the fabric as if to transfer his scent before removing it and handing it to you. "Better?"

Sitting up with a smile, you undress from the top, putting on the new one as Peter did the same. He plops down beside you, draping his arm over your shoulder. "You do look cute in my clothes," he grins, kissing your temple.

@annielr @ugh09876554444 @spacetalbot @bubblezuku @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser

#🪐#peter quill #peter quill x you #peter quill x reader #peter quill x fem!reader #peter quill x female reader #peter quill x y/n #peter quill fanfiction #peter quill imagine #peter quill fanfic #peter quill imagines #peter quill fluff #peter quill drabble #starlord x you #star lord #starlord x reader #gotg fanfiction

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hannieehaee · 1 month

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i dont know if u accept smut reqs but if u don’t please ignore my ask and i’m so sorry for overstepping!!

but could i please req a hard dom!seungkwan who teaches u a lesson at home after u couldn’t stop whining and begging for him at dinner with ur friends?

18+ / mdi

content: dom!seungkwan, afab reader, teasing, smut, oral (m receiving), letc.

wc: 1399

a/n: im so sorry i took so long to finish this!!! ive been trying to make time for all reqs so its taking a while to get them all out T-T anyways thank u for requesting and i hope u enjoy!!

masterlist

it was common for seungkwan to bring you along whenever he had dinner with the members. it had kind of become a tradition to have dinner together at least once a month, with the members' respective significant others tagging along.

you had been part of the crew for a while, having been dating seungkwan for an extended period of time by now. you were practically just another friend to the members at this point, making all of you quite comfortable with one another.

maybe too comfortable.

seungkwan always thought of you as a well-behaved girl. not even in a dirty way or anything. he just knew you were never the type to act out in public or to purposely become a nuance to him. yes, you would banter with him sometimes, but it was always in good faith and never really went anywhere. sure, you'd often tease him in the bedroom and take advantage of your effect on him time after time, but this always remained behind closed doors.

which was why seungkwan was quite shocked at the way in which you had suddenly decided to behave.

you weren't being too obvious about it, keeping your brattiness between you and himself. it started with a few touches far too high on his thigh, followed by raunchy comments hidden behind a cough. then it evolved into lustful eyes staring down on his own whenever no one was looking.

it even manifested itself into you cornering him on your way to the bathroom as he came back from a bathroom break himself.

you'd planted a steamy kiss on his lips and felt him up in a very unseemly way before letting him know you 'wanted his cock so fucking bad' and making your merry way to the bathroom as he walked back to the table completely flustered. it then (unsurprisingly) proceeded into a text message received by seungkwan a few moments later, a message containing your bare breasts and a look in your eye that he only ever saw between the sheets. except you weren't between his sheets. you were at the restaurant's bathroom, making a fool of him with a mere picture.

that was more or less where seungkwan felt it'd be appropriate to put his foot down. he was never good at resisting you, and he knew that adding the extra layer of being surrounded by his members would only make him break sooner or later. so he decided to throw you a curveball and storm after you in the bathroom, coughing out an excuse of 'forgot my wallet in the restroom' to the other guys before sneaking his way into the hallway leading to the restroom. that's where he found you making your way back to the table before wordlessly dragging you to one of the spacious gender neutral stalls and locking the door.

immediately pushing you up against the wall, he practically growled out his next words.

"you wanted me to embarrass myself out there, huh? knowing i dont know how to act any time you tease me," he assessed, knowing he was right by your shocked expression.

you clearly were expecting him to crumble and make up some weak excuse in order to take you home as you smirked next to him, giving the members clear indication of who begged for who in the relationship. but he decided to turn things on you and give you a taste of your own medicine, maybe show you what it was like to get on your knees for your beloved.

"no, i-"

"did i say you could speak? good girls stay quiet til i tell them do speak. do you understand?", his hands went to run up and down your body, making a game plan of how he was going to take you.

"y-yes."

"good girl. now ..."

his eyed drifted down to your cleavage, reminding him of the dirty picture you had sent him earlier.

without a second thought, his hands grabbed onto your cleavage and forcefully pulled it down, ripping a bit at the arms of your dress before diving right to your tits, mouth open and willing.

"k-kwannie, what are you-"

he ignored your gasp, simply adding more force to the suckling of your breasts, using his arms to push up your hips against his own as he began to grind against you. his groans and your gasps were the only thing that could be heard in the empty restroom.

after getting his fill of your tits in his mouth, he became too frustrated by the mere friction he felt at the grinding of your hips, opting instead to guide you into a kneeling position in front of him.

"you're gonna be a good girl and take care of the problem you caused, right, baby?", he looked down at you with indescribable lust in his gaze.

"yes, kwannie ... want it in my mouth so bad," you begged, licking at him through his pants while you gave him the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen.

in any other occasion, this would've had him on his knees, begging for your mouth around his dick and crying as he felt the barest touch, but today he had to prove a point.

"stop messing around and get my cock out. don't make me repeat myself," he didn't recognize himself as he ordered you around, but he liked the shudder he saw go through you at his demanding tone.

without complaint, you hurriedly undid his pants and brought his boxers down, immediately getting to work as you licked and kissed at his tip.

he threw his head back at your teasing, unable to reprimand you for it. it just felt so fucking good.

luckily for both you and him, this didn't last long. before even realizing it, you were already gagging on as much of his cock as you could get into your mouth, looking up at him with furrowed brows as you wordlessly begged him. he was confused as to what you were begging for at first, only realizing what you meant when you brought his hands behind your head, slightly making him push your head forward and- oh.

was this what you wanted? was this what you'd been after all along?

you wanted him to take control and use you for his pleasure. fuck.

he almost came at the realization, until realizing that he'd much rather cum after fucking your mouth until you cried.

he began pistoling his hips against your mouth, moaning as you let yourself become his pretty fleshlight while he groaned at both the sight and feeling. maybe you weren't a bad behaved girl after all. maybe all you wanted was him to take his frustrations out on you and use you like the pretty doll you were.

or at least he hoped this was the case, because he was already addicted.

"pretty thing ... oh, fuck. such a pretty thing for me to use, aren't you? gonna cum in your mouth, okay? gonna fill you up and you're gonna swallow it all for me, yeah?", he mumbled between moans, knowing his end would come faster than expected.

and he was right. his orgasm took over just moments later, with his hands dragging your head up and down his cock while his hips thrust into your awaiting mouth. he completely lost himself as his orgasm washed over him, making him lose all sense of his surroundings and almost disregard your gagging as he filled your mouth.

he pulled away moments after, crying out in painful pleasure when you still managed to suckle on his sensitive tip as he pulled himself out of your mouth.

he let himself fall down against the wall, now sitting at your level as he tried to catch his breath.

"i hate you," he groaned between breaths.

"yeah. i believe that. you just fucked my mouth like you wanted me dead," you chuckled as you also attempted to regulate your breathing.

"wasn't that what you wanted?", he quirked an eyebrow at you.

"maybe."

"you menace," he chuckled despite his words.

"you like it," you got close enough to him to land a sweet peck on his lips.

"i wont when we have to go out there and explain what we were doing this whole time."

"i got my fill of cock, nothing else matters."

he'd been completely wrong. you were absolutely not a well-behaved girl.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagine #svt #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #seungkwan scenarios #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan smut #seungkwan fanfic

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pearl-likes-pi · 28 days

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i honestly dont know hoe to say this, but you really had a hand in shaping my brai chemistry while i was growing up, no kidding. i remember when i was 13 or so and whenever you posted a pearl rap career chapter it would unironicaly make my day (specially when you dropped the peridot chapter i had a stomach infection or smth, so that video and the last one out of beach city episode were on replay for me for a few days). its really weird seeing that rebecca managed to make a safe space for lgbt folks (it was really hard for me to accept myself as gay, it seems really simple nowadays but back then it was so discomforting to even thinm about it so su and its fandom, and by some extent, your vids, helped me externalize some feelings or queernes i guess, do you remeber when someone said your video editing was raw and masculine? lol). anyways, its wild to think i was in 5th grade when i first watched laser light canon and now im finishing my journalism course in college and seeing how this show raised me in some way and helped me to be aware of my own mental health i only have good memories, thankfully, and its really sad to see that it ended, but i honestly wouldnt have had it any other way. its kind of a long rant but id like to thank you, mackenzie, your videos made me laugh a lot when i was a teen and they still make me now. this show was truly a gift, it made us connect to something bigger and magical. this was kind of a long rant since ive kinda forgotten that su existed and remined that it existed because of some dreams lol. i remembered back then when i was super anxious about the cluster episode, i remeber checking your tumblr everyday and seeing fanon content. i really dont know how to express myself since english is not my first language and i tend to ramble on a lot on my native one, but id like to say youve made me smile a lot, it was so cool seeing you present the su podcast and being an intern at CN. i honestly wish you the best.

Dude it means so much to hear that my lil shitposts have had an impact on people!!!! I completely understand where youre coming from re: SU's impact on your life (and acceptance of queer identity) and feel the same way!!! im so grateful for this show and everything it represents. in a world without Steven Universe my current life would be completely unrecognizable. like genuinely I dont think any single aspect of my life would be the way it is without SU. which is nuts but it's true!!!

I love engaging with this community and it gave me a lot of support when I was at a place in my life where I felt pretty isolated. I'm kind of rambling now too but this seriously has been sitting in my inbox for a bit now and I just knew i needed to respond and say thank you for sharing. <3

ALSO LMAO I FORGOT ABT THE RAW AND MASCULINE COMMENT THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME HAHA

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babybluebex · 2 years

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*claps hands together* okay SO. listen. even though i know some people dont like it, i am kind of a sucker for “tomboy character gets femmed up and male protagonist falls for them hard” cliche, and imagining that with a fem!reader (or just a kinda fem enby like myself) who’s one of eddies childhood friends SENDS me 😭 ofc no pressure!! your writing is wonderful as always and take all the time you need 🥰

𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re not exactly a girly-girl, but, after corroded coffin is booked to play prom, you decide to surprise your best friend with a dress and a confession. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson (stranger things) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: tomboy!reader, a LOT of fluff, brief blood mention 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: eek thanks for sending in this request! i had such a good time writing it!

You didn’t usually give much thought to dances or school functions, or really school at all. All of the events, be it homecoming or the Snowflake Ball or that weird assembly about saying no to drugs, were a complete snooze fest. Even prom irked you. Who would actually want to hang around the gymnasium and drink flat punch for hours and listen to whatever crappy band was hired out for the night? The concept of it never struck any flame inside you, so you never cared about it.

Until this prom. Until Corroded Coffin.

“How the fuck,” you started, tossing a crumb at Eddie as he strutted proudly around the lunch table. “Did you manage to get Higgins to hire your sorry-ass band to play prom?”

“I can be persuasive!” Eddie returned quickly, dodging your crumb with a smile. “Anyway, I also told him that it would motivate me in my schoolwork.”

“How would that…” you began with a roll of your eyes. “Never mind, I don’t wanna know how you smooth-talked that away. So, you’ve got your Saturday booked up. What happened to renting Halloween, like we talked about?”

“We can still do that,” Eddie told you quickly. “Prom officially ends at 11, then I’ve got the rest of the night for my favorite girl.”

Your heart swept up into your throat as he passed behind you, his hand lightly trailing your shoulder. You and Eddie had been through thick and thin since meeting, way back in preschool, and he loved you like you were his sister. You, however, had something festering in your heart.

It had happened back years ago, despite the awful buzzed hairstyle that he had rocked all through junior high. Somewhere between seventh and eighth grade, you had developed a huge crush on your best friend, one that had consumed every second of every day. And now, your last year of high school (and Eddie’s third senior year), your crush had managed to dull down to less all-consuming and more… Loving.

You didn’t have a crush on your best friend, you loved him. And soon you would leave him for college. You worried if your friendship would survive the distance, but, the one time you had talked to Eddie about it, he had assured you that he would write and visit every chance he got. But, as the time drew nearer and nearer, it felt less likely to happen. He would get a job, you would move, and you’d never have time for each other, and, eventually, he would only be that guy you used to know.

Spending time with Eddie mattered to you, and you were only slightly hurt that Eddie would drop your plans to perform at the stupid fucking prom. He had never gone to prom, nor had you ever heard him express any interest in going, and you groaned at him. “Since when do you even wanna go to prom?” you asked.

“Since I decided that this is my last chance to,” Eddie said, and he finally settled down in his chair at the head of the lunch table. “I’m fuckin’ done with Hawkins High, and I’m gonna graduate and leave this place in my dust. I don’t have anything to lose. Anyway, it’s a gig. I’ll get paid. We can rent Halloween and buy some snacks. Sounds like a good deal to me.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m going,” you told him.

“Going where?” Eddie asked, and you coughed out a laugh.

“To prom, dork,” you returned. “I wanna see you guys perform.”

“Really?” Eddie asked with a furrow of his eyebrows. “Prom isn’t my scene, but it’s really not your scene. Don’t torture yourself just ‘cause you wanna spend time with little ole me.”

“What do you mean it’s ‘not my scene’?” you asked, and you stole a carrot off of Dustin’s lunch tray. The freshman gasped at you, and you jokingly mocked his gasp before giving him an exaggerated pout. “Prom can be my scene.”

“You just don’t…” Eddie started. “Getting all dressed up and everything, I know you hate that.”

“You’re right,” you sighed, slumping back in your chair. “But you never know, I might surprise you and show up. It’s just a Corroded Coffin gig, right?”

“We’re gonna be playing dumb covers,” Eddie grumbled. “We were given a very specific list of dos and don’ts. No heavy metal, nothing vulgar—”

“So, you’re a cover band for the night,” you giggled, and Eddie scrunched up his face in fake-annoyance before he tossed a pretzel in your direction. It hit your cheek and fell down into your lap, and you grinned as you plucked it up and ate it. “I know how you feel about musical integrity, Eds.”

“Yeah, well, integrity goes out the window when you get paid,” Dustin chuckled, and Eddie flashed him a dirty look. “Well, doesn’t it?”

“Whatever,” Eddie said. “Fuck you guys. If you wanna show up to prom, do it. See if I care.”

“I will,” you told him, and you stuck your tongue out at Eddie at the same time that he stuck his out at you. “And I’ll watch you care so much.”

Prom, unluckily for you, was only 3 days out. You hated the idea of dressing up for it, just as Eddie had predicted you would. You hated the whole glitz and glamour thing, and the thought of intentionally getting all dolled up with hair and makeup and some big dress and heels made you feel sick. But, you considered, it was for Eddie. You would do a lot for him, this included.

The problem came with the dress. Dresses were scarce in your closet, let alone something really nice, and you knew that no stores would have anything like what you wanted that was even remotely in your price range on such a short notice.

On the night, just hours short of prom, you chewed your lip as you held the phone to your chest, debating if you truly wanted to do this, and you rolled your eyes as you got over yourself. It was Eddie— you could show up in a potato sack and he’d still call you pretty.

You quickly dialed Mike Wheeler’s number, rotating the dial as you tried to remember it. You had only ever called him once before, getting on his ass for being late to Hellfire last semester, but it wasn’t the younger Wheeler that you wanted to talk to.

His mom answered the phone. “Hi, Mrs. Karen,” you said, hoping to sound sweet and charming. “Is Nancy around? I have a question for her.”

“Why’re you calling me?” Nancy asked as the phone was passed to her, and you sighed.

“You’re the only girl I remotely know,” you started. “And I need a dress.”

“A dress?” Nancy repeated. “Why? Are you going to prom tonight? Don’t you have a prom dress?”

“Well, no,” you started, curling the phone cord anxiously around your finger. “I, umm, wasn’t really planning on going to prom. But now I am, and, like I said, you’re, like, the only girl I even sorta halfway know. We were in Kaminsky’s class together sophomore year, and Mike’s in Hellfire, and I just… I need a dress. Anything! It could be a church dress, sundress, it could be anything. I just need help.”

“Right,” Nancy said slowly. “Umm… Come over, I guess. I’ll see what I can do for you.”

You had never even been over to Wheeler’s house before, and going to see specifically Nancy Wheeler felt odd. You especially felt weird walking into her pink-topia bedroom, wearing your ripped jeans and dirty Converse and flannel shirt that used to be Eddie’s but you had stolen off of him. To top it all off, of course, her only dress options were pink and/or glittery. But you weren’t going to be a choosing beggar, and you decided on one that was the least egregious. A strapless burst of light pink tulle that fell down to your calves hugged your frame, and you examined yourself from every angle in Nancy’s little white wicker mirror.

“How is that?” Nancy asked, stepping behind you into the reflection.

“I feel like a princess,” you mumbled, turning again to look at your back.

“Is that good or bad?” Nancy asked, and you shrugged.

“It’s…” you started. The dress showed off your dirty shoes and scrunched socks, but you sorta liked the way it looked. You felt pretty. “I think it's good.”

“And if you let your hair down…” Nancy started softly, reaching out and shaking your hair out of the perpetual ponytail that it was in. Your hair was dented from the ponytail holder as it fell down, and you took a deep breath. “Maybe curled it… A little makeup… Is Eddie your date?”

“No,” you scoffed, but you looked away from the mirror all the same. “No, his band is performing, and I was gonna surprise him.”

Nancy suddenly got a smile on her face, like she knew something or understood you, and she said, “You’re trying to look nice for Eddie.”

“No, I’m not!” you said. “I… I don’t know. I just wanna… Look like I’m going to prom, I guess. It’ll shake him up, seeing me in a dress, it’s gonna be funny.”

“Honey,” Nancy said gently. “It’s okay to wanna look nice for the guy you like. I mean, any girl would want that.”

“I don’t like Eddie—” you tried to say, but Nancy shook her head, her permed curls bouncing around her face.

“Then why do you wanna look so nice?” Nancy asked. “You could’ve showed up in your jeans.”

You frowned, examining the dress once more, and you sighed. “Okay, fine,” you mumbled. “I just… I like Eddie, I really like him, and I just… Maybe I do wanna look nice for him, whatever. Don’t judge me.”

Nancy looked at your reflection for a few more quiet moments, and she finally said, “You can keep that dress. I never wear it.”

The band was already performing by the time you showed up. Given, you had shown up a little late, but you were sure that Eddie wouldn’t mind. You were sure that, even if you hadn’t showed up at all, he wouldn’t have minded.

That way, you would’ve missed seeing him in that dumb fucking suit.

Suit was not exactly what it was. It was a tuxedo, black, with a white shirt that had some frilly bullshit on the chest. You could tell that Eddie was despising the black bowtie around his neck and the cumberbund around his middle, and you also knew for a fact that he was hating every second of having his hair pulled back into a ponytail. You almost wanted to laugh at him. Your hand came up to cover your mouth to hide your laughter, as if he could see you from across the gym.

Eddie was standing very still as he played his guitar, some gentle-paced love song that couples all around the gym were slow dancing to. You had seen him play guitar before, and you knew that he usually played with all of the energy in his body, headbanging and jumping around. You had wiped blood off of his face before after he had rammed his head into the headstock of his guitar, even. He looked miserable, and you frowned. Poor Eddie.

You weaved through the dancing couples to make it up to the small stage, and Eddie’s dark eyes found you in an instant. You waved at him carefully, not wanting to draw his attention away from the song for too long, but that failed in an instant. He had already missed a cord and, as his hands floundered to get back on track, he struck a sour note.

You saw him mutter something that looked like “Fuck it”, and he pulled his guitar up and over his head before he said something in Jeff’s ear. Then, he jumped down from the stage and, smugly adjusting his bowtie, swaggered up to you.

“Alright, cut that shit out,” you laughed as he approached you. “I can tell you’re not having a good time.”

“Jesus Christ, am I that easy to figure out?” Eddie asked, dropping his hand from his tie. “I hate this fucking monkey suit.”

“You look like the kid from Back To The Future,” you giggled. “That tux is hideous, Eds.”

“Kinda felt like him too,” Eddie mumbled. “My hands stopped playing when I saw you. Holy shit, by the way! You look—”

“Hideous?” you repeated with a shrug. “I know.”

“Beautiful,” Eddie said breathlessly. His eyes were canvassing your whole body, from your curled hair to your pink-painted lips to your dress, and even down to your scuffed Converse and scrunched-up socks. “I didn’t know you had this in you.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, reaching out and punching Eddie’s shoulder. “If I look beautiful, then you’re downright handsome.”

“I’ll take it,” Eddie chuckled lightly, and the smile dropped off of his face. “You wanna… You wanna dance?”

“Seriously?” you asked. “Do you really wanna dance?”

“Kinda,” Eddie shrugged, and your heart jumped in your chest. “But not if you don’t want to.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Well… Yeah. Sure.”

You watched Eddie swallow thickly as he took a step towards you, and your skin rippled as he put his hands on your waist. “Have you ever slow danced before?” you asked, and Eddie shook his head.

“No,” he said. He seemed nervous, and you were taken aback. Eddie, your high-strung best friend, never afraid and always loud, was nervous. Was he nervous to dance with you? Or was he really that insecure about the way he was dressed?

“You do look really nice,” you mumbled. “Really… Seriously handsome.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said as you circled your arms around his neck. “Umm, are my hands okay here?”

“Yeah,” you told him. After a moment of consideration, you added, “They can go lower, on my hips, if you want.”

“No,” Eddie said. “I like holding you here.”

You nodded, trying not to think about his words too hard. Sure, you had hugged Eddie before, loads of times, and he always threw his gangly arms around you and squeezed hard, and he never seemed anxious about it. Your heart was racing inside your chest as you moved even closer to Eddie and rested your chin on his shoulder, letting your cheek brush his neck. Your body fit against his like the most perfect puzzle piece, and you sighed lightly.

It was now or never. “Eds?” you whispered. His grip tightened on your waist at the gentle nickname, and you started to add, “I—”

Eddie cut you off, though, in the best way he could have. He turned his head and swiftly pressed his lips to yours, lingering for just a moment before pulling away, all too soon for your liking. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I, umm… I’ve had the biggest crush on you for a long time. A-And you’re about to leave for college, and you look so fucking beautiful— not that you don’t look beautiful every day, I actually sorta prefer your jeans and everything— and I just, I can’t hold it back any more. I love you.”

“Eddie,” you sighed heavily, your voice trembling. “I mean… I don’t know what to say to you.”

“Tell me you love me,” Eddie whispered, and he pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Tell me I didn’t just fuck everything up.”

You looked at him, entranced by his wide, dark eyes, and you leaned back in, pressing your lips to his again. His hands fluttered on your waist for a moment before he dragged you right up against him, his palms pressing flat to your back, and his lips moved gently against yours as he kissed you. Eddie was kissing you; it was your dream come true.

As you broke the kiss, you could feel Eddie’s heartbeat flush against your chest, and you giggled softly, looking down at your swaying feet. “I love you, you dork,” you told him.

“You still down for Halloween later?” Eddie asked hopefully, his eyebrows raising. “Watching a scary movie with your boyfriend?”

“Yes,” you told him with a smile. “Yes, I am so down for that. As long as you let me hide during the scary parts.”

“I’ll kiss it better,” Eddie said. “How does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

#bex's requests #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #my writing

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