#like genuinely no shade i just see this sort of thing a lot

[ham1lton]

TEN THINGS F1 DRIVER Y/N L/N CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT — GQ.

— part of my maneater series.

Y/N (throwing her hat in the air with one hand and catching it in the other without looking): see? told you i could do it! not my only party trick.

Y/N: hi gq! i’m y/n l/n, formula one driver and i’m here to show you my ten essentials.

NUMBER ONE: IPAD

Y/N: first, has to be my ipad. this was my first big purchase and seeing my bank account being drained of that money almost caused a heart attack. but this bad boy helps me to organise my life, stops me from being bored on flights, keeps me in contact with my family and lets me write my notes. so yeah, thanks apple. also you guys should sponsor me.

NUMBER TWO: NOISE CANCELLING HEADPHONES

Y/N: i never used to travel a lot. when i was younger, my family couldn’t afford it so flying around a lot was a big shock to my system. obviously as in f1, drivers are required to fly to different races and it means i had to get over my fear of flying. these help a lot with that. these plus a spotify playlist made by my angsty teenage self will make me forget about the fact i’m flying. these are my favourite ones, i have multiple pairs just in case.

NUMBER TWO AND A HALF: MUSIC.

Y/N: i guess this sort of goes off the second one? but music. i keep trying to bribe the engineers to build a blue tooth radio in the car but to no avail. spotify has been my biggest supporter all of these years. i know i’m sponsored by them now but i have been using my account for almost seven years now? so my algorithm is perfection. it truly has helped me so much. i listen to music on the way to races, on the way back from races, in my house, outside my house, cleaning, cooking and even when i’m in the shower. yes, i’m a shower singer. once i get in there, i’m beyoncé!

OFF SCREEN VOICE: what was the last song you listened to?

Y/N: one second, let me see. it was the twilight soundtrack in particular decode by paramore. told you i was an angsty teen!

NUMBER THREE: EMERGENCY BAG

Y/N: okay this sounds bad, it’s not as much an emergency bag as in like medical supplies but more so like extra toothbrush, toothpaste, menstrual products, lotion and other stuff like that. i always carry this with me anywhere in case my suitcase goes missing. it has helped me and my friends out so many times so it’s definitely an essential for me.

NUMBER FOUR: HER CAMERAS.

Y/N: i picked up photography relatively recently and this was the starter camera that the guy in the shop recommended. so this is that camera. for this one, i vlog, which you guys might have seen and this is the camera i use for those videos. i actually don’t record my videos, one of my friends or family or colleagues or whoever will film and i will be in front of the camera. it’s my favourite part when i ask the camera person to reveal themselves and they do their own little introduction. i obviously provide the camera for it. which is this beauty right here.

OFF SCREEN VOICE: who has been your favourite person to film you?

Y/N: i have had a lot of people film me. my most recent being rihanna for my recent holiday vlog! so many people to the point that i genuinely don’t think i could choose a favourite. i mean, i’ve had my sister do it a lot so i guess i can choose her. she knows my angles best!

NUMBER FIVE: LIPGLOSS

Y/N: when i won my first championship and i kissed the camera, the amount of calls from makeup companies my manager received was actually obscene. i think i got so many comments on social media asking what makeup i use and how it stays on throughout the race! to be honest, i don’t always wear makeup but in the original video, i was wearing this fenty gloss. it’s in the shade fu$$y. so, yeah, at least no one can call me a gatekeeper! i always keep it on me. i feel a little more ready to face the world with lipgloss. now, i have my own fenty collection! so check that out.

NUMBER SIX: HER LUCKY SHOES.

Y/N: okay i know i say i’m not necessarily a superstitious person but these shoes have been with me from f3 until now. every race i’ve worn these, i’ve won. so i like having them around. i think they bring luck. i can’t wear them any longer as they’ve worn through the soles now. really annoying but we power through.

NUMBER SEVEN: WINGSTOP BLACK CARD

Y/N: i was really craving wingstop one night. so me and my sister were in london? i think and i vlogged our hunt for wingstop and they reached out to me to give me a black card. i know, isn’t it gorgeous? i was so happy. too bad i have to cut down on what i eat thanks to my nutritionist, but my siblings and friends love this thing.

NUMBER EIGHT: SKINCARE ROUTINE

Y/N: okay, so i’m trying to get more consistent with my skincare but it’s not necessarily working the way i want it to. however, i still stick to the basics. sunscreen, cleanser and moisturiser. i really like keeping my skincare on check as there is this unsaid rule that women have to wear makeup in their jobs and if i keep my skin looking good then i can skirt that rule. i love this cream in particular, it’s moisturising but very light on the skin. best of both worlds.

NUMBER NINE: NECKLACE

Y/N: this was given to me as a gift from my family when i turned eighteen. it was a necklace that i’d had my eye on for a very, very long time. they saved up for so long to buy it for me and it’s become my signature piece. i wear it around my neck constantly. it’s weird having it off my neck to show you.

(she fastens it around her neck quickly)

Y/N: now i feel normal again.

NUMBER TEN: MY PADDOCK PASS

Y/N: i am so bad with keeping my paddock pass on me. for people who don’t know what this is, this allows me access to the garage and things like that. i usually keep it around my neck because if its in my pocket or my bag i’ll forget. my assistant sometimes carries mine. i’m not going to show you my picture because it’s awful. i had woke up really early after no sleep and one of the staff had made me take the picture. now i am forced to wear this monstrosity at work. i keep it hidden as much as i can. last time, lando saw it and laughed so hard he cried so yeah.

author’s note: this was hard as i wanted to keep it as vague as possible so that you can relate it to your own maneater! i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in!

#jayde’s works ☆ #maneater ꕤ #formula one x reader #f1 smau #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #f1 texts #formula one smau #formula 1 #formula one

[thislittlekumquat]

I don't really understand when a usamerican person has "i refuse to vote, it's a broken system and i refuse to participate" and "call your reps about pale/stine now" sentiments both live on their blog at the same time. Fam how do you think the reps get there in the first place 🤔

#like genuinely no shade i just see this sort of thing a lot #and i totally understand the frustration but i think the no voting thing is a type of despair #hate to be here while the republic is dying etc etc #it all sucks and i completely understand #but not fighting tooth and nail for non GOP candidates feels like lighting ourselves on fire at this point

[sk3l3t0n444]

#totally not related a bit to my project hehe #can you guys tell im really excited about it? like ive been working on this a lot #ive been trying to make it better and im genuinely really proud of it rn #most of you guys wont care #but for those who will i hope you dont hate it lol #tbh im really scared that people will think i did a bad job #ik i say that shit everytime but thats really all i can think about #me: doing a project ive been wanting to do for months just because i enjoy it #also me: what if everybody hates it and calls you slurs and doxxes you because they hate your project #ik realistically the worst reaction imma get is some anon hate if that but like i fear criticism so much... #like i feel like if i dont make everybody happy then i make everybody angry #i tend to see things like that in black and white but things that most people think is black and white i see in all sorts of shades of grey #wow i got really off topic #ANYWAYS #Spotify

[tarjapearce]

Old Friend

Summary: You meet an old friend in your shopping trip with the family.

Nothing but a slice of life, fluff, bit of angst and a jealous Miguel ~

Whenever it was restock day, Costco or Walmart would be the main places to go.

You'd get the list, Miguel would secure Rosie to his chest, as Benjamin would get inside your cart. Gabi would walk alongside you or her beloved Papa, pushing his cart.

Each would take separate ways, you'd get the meats and veggies, as Miguel would get the rest, powder detergent, cleansing products, and snacks.

"Mama, can I have these?" Benjamin swayed his feet pointing at the  colorful packaging of dinosaur shaped nuggets.

"Course you can, mi niño. Which one you want?"

"I tried the red one last time, I'll get the purple"

Benji's boyish voice echoed around you as you stopped on the frozen meals section.

"Alright, purple it is."

You picked the purple package, a triceratops and a T-Rex on the cover. Then, filled the cart with different sort of meats, Miguel's favorite cuts, hams and of course, lots of canned jalapeños. Orange, pineapple, and cranberry juice, a couple of sodas and finally you got to go to the cereal and coffee aisle.

Miguel was running out of coffee in his office, and back at home you only had a couple of packages. It reminded you the time Miguel nearly had an anxiety attack when he found out he had ran out of the black liquid gold, even in his secret stash.

For some reason the brand he always bought was put on the top shelves. With a huff you looked around to see if there was any ladder, but upon finding none, You stepped on the bottom shelf, trying to get the six pack in the edge, but obviously, you couldn't reach it.

Benjamin giggled when you missed, as revenge you smothered his face in kisses, earning you a loud and bubbling squeal.

"Here, let me." A deep voice rumbled behind you. Your eyes widened at the all too familiar face before you. Reaching effortlessly for the coffee packaging.

"Richard" you mumbled while taking the package, to then put it on the cart.

"Hey" His hand waved softly. Clad in a hoodie, bermudas and sneakers. A little gold band hugging his ring finger. Dull, as his overall aura.

Despite the years coming through, he hadn't lost his kind green eyes. Some wrinkles adorned his matured face. Ricky was only two years older than you, and still had some white hairs poking out here and there.

He sported a short and well trimmed beard, hair parted and neatly arranged to a side. His eyes darted to the boy that undoubtedly resembled alot like you, except for his curious big and round red-ish eyes.

"Whose this little champ?" The smile on his face was coy, but genuine.

"It's my boy, Benjamin."

A proud beam stretched on your face as your hand caressed Benjamin's head, some of his curls trapping your fingers.

"Nice to meet you, champ." Ricky stretched his hands towards him and Benjamin shook it, a tad nervous.

"He definitely has your curls."

You smiled, eyes diverting behind him, ready to meet his partner but, there was none, just his half cart full of car appliances, some diary products and snacks.

"My goodness, you have a beard now."

Ricky chuckled and scratched it. He was a handsome man, undoubtedly. Good and well worked physique. Lean muscles, athletic and healthy looking. Green eyes a shade darker than green apples, pretty lips you liked biting and a healthy tan on his skin, despite him being a pale guy. A couple of freckles adorned his nose.

"And you've got a kid now." there was a bit of disbelief in his tone.

"Three actually. Funny how we ended up doing the things we always said we wouldn't do right away."

Richard gave a soft laugh.

"At least we look good. And I'm sure you're a great mom. How long has it been?"

"I don't know, I suck at math. But I do know it's more than ten years." You pushed the cart to get the cereals and naturally he helped you to get them. Eyes looking for Miguel in every chance you had.

"How have you been?" He tensed a bit at the question, not expecting your openness to talking so casually, specially when your finger shone with a golden band. He graduated college and never saw you again, until now. Gentle and caring as always. You hadn't changed, and he was glad.

"As usual. Existing, trying to keep myself afloat after, uh... my divorce." His mouth pressed in a tight line, green eyes looked away for a second, unable to meet your stare. Ashamed.

Your eyes blinked at his reply. Clearly surprised by such thing. Face falling with worry. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Richard shook his head, and gave a nonchalant shrug.

"Things happen. It's one of those situations that get your eyes open for good." Ricky rubbed his neck awkwardly and you offered a little reassure with a hand on his shoulder, patting it softly.

"Hey, you've got this. I know it's been a while, but I'm sure your problem solving skills are still top notch."

Hw chuckled, almost sympathetic at himself, "I don't even know anymore, if I'm honest. But if you say so."

The voices in the aisles kept indistinct, each in their own world, mingling with the upbeat background music.

"Also... I'm sorry." His eyes remained on yours. Something he'd always do when speaking truthfully.

Your brow quirked, "Whatever for?"

Ricky's hands squeezed the insides of his pockets as he spoke.

"For breaking up with you. Specially like that. It was a d-" He caught his tongue before continuing with the french before Benjamin, "It was wrong of me."

You could only stare at him, and he recoiled further in his spot, shoulders hunched, eyes on the floor.

"If something's worth saying, I... divorced cause my mom also ruined it for me."

You frowned, confused and he shook his head.

"So I cut ties, went to therapy and yeah." He reached out for a three pack of granola for himself, and another for you after you pointed at the brand.

"I'm sorry, I'm kind of confused as to why would you think I'd be happy to know something awful happened to you, Richard?"

Richard's brow puckered. You really hadn't changed at all. Even after he dumped you a few days before Christmas eve.

"I... don't know? Thought you'd hold a grudge for what I did."

"A grudge?" You tittered and this threw him off guard, "Not to sound mean or anything, but I didn't even remember what had happened until now. You know I'm forgetful."

You both chuckled as he nodded.

"Yeah, kinda wondered if you'd lose your head too if it wasn't attached to your body."

You gasped while mocking offense, "That was rude."

You grabbed a couple of cereal boxes Benjamin pointed at.

"But true. In all seriousness, I'm glad that at least something great came after me. Is he a good man?, wait..." He shook his head softly, "Stupid question Of course he is, you married him."

You beamed and this made his chest swell in a mix of happiness and pride. You deserved it after all he also put you through.

"You'll find someone, I know so." It always made him wondered why he was stupid like that to allow his mother come in between.

"I'll give myself a couple of years to heal first. Wanna make sure I don't repeat things over."

It was your turn to get that pride sensation in your chest. Knowing he was making a good progress out of his mother's shadow also made you happy. You out of everyone knew how hard it was like.

"Hope they're ready to listen country music nonstop in your car." He rolled his eyes.

"I know you hated the genre, that's why I always played them"

Your lips pursed with faked anger as he tittered, however, Ricky cleared his throat off the laughing upon watching a behemoth of a man, approaching from behind. Red eyes set on him. A shudder crawled on his skin as he gulped. The baby on his chest did little to appease the intimidating aura around him.

"Mama!" Gabi came to you with an excited face as she showed you her new acquisition. A purple and glittery cover for her phone.

"Qué lindo! Do they have it in blue too?" (How cute!)

"Nah, it was the last one, Papa said this would match with my room too."

Said Papa hugged you from behind, and kissed your temple, red eyes never left him. Ricky gave Miguel a polite smile as he backed away a few steps. Miguel's strong features only turned sharper. It would be a lie to say if Ricky wasn't surprised and intimidated.

Surprised cause you hugged Miguel's narrow waist, a pleased and proud purr emanated from his chest. Loud enough for only you to hear it.

The man before him screamed danger a mile ago. But also, explained lots of things. Like Benjamin's eyes.

"Richard, this is my husband. Miguel O'Hara."

Ricky hesitated for a second, but stretched his hands towards him, big tan hands easily enveloped his in a firm shake.

"Nice to meet you." His nervous smile was like fuel to your husband's ego.

Miguel acknowledged him with a brief nod, eyes not tearing away from him. A quiet She's mine in his eyes.

"Richard and I used to go at the same college. Oh! This is my eldest daughter, Gabriella. And my youngest baby, Rosie."

Gabi smiled politely while holding onto Miguel's hips.

"You have a beautiful family." His green eyes stared at an ever curious Rosie that gazed back at him. Miguel's shoulder's tensed when Rosie gave Ricky a smile.

"Thanks, You'll be fine though. Things take time, but, It all comes together somehow. Just be patient. I'm glad you're doing good on your own." Again, you patted his shoulder, he just gave you a small but genuine smile. Miguel's guts churned as his jaw clenched.

Ricky left after saying his goodbyes, not wanting to impose his presence any further.

"Gabibi, mi amor, can you get the food cart to the line, please?"

"Okay. Don't take too long, please?"

Gabriella took the cart as Benjamin showed her his nuggets, leaving you and Miguel with Rosie alone.

"Alright, interrogation can start now." You chuckled and Miguel pulled you by your waist towards him, ebbing you to walk a few steps before giving a firm slap on your rear.

"Miguel!" you hushed, flustered while looking around to see of there were people and he smirked.

"Wanted to do that before that guy, but that wouldn't be too polite of me, wouldn't it?"

You kissed his cheek, but he quickly corrected the place and pecked your lips.

"That's better. Who was he anyway?"

"My ex from college."

He just hummed and it was your turn to return the squeeze, he chuckled, "Relax. He just got divorced and obviously not having a good time."

"Too bad." He shrugged, a bit nonchalant and you deadpanned.

"Don't be mean. You were scaring him on purpose."

"Obvio. Still, forgot to thank him." (Obviously)

You chuckled as you approached to the line, Gabi waved at you both.

"Thank him?"

"Well, he let you go, and I wouldn't have met you in the first place. So thanks to that."

"Well, he's there on the other line, go tell him."

You teased, but to your surprise Miguel stepped away from the beeline and was walking towards Richard.

"W-Wait! Miguel!" You had skip a few steps to catch him and pull him back to spot, he smirked while pulling you tighter towards him.

"Don't tempt me, mi reina."

"God, I swear. You're-"

"Your husband, mi amor." He smirked, satisfied at his own title in your life.

"A jealous one."

He leaned to your ear and whispered, "Espérate que lleguemos a casa. No te la vas a acabar conmigo, mi reina." (Wait till we get home. You'll see what's up.)

Gabriella rolled her eyes at the flirty atmosphere around you and covered Benjamin's eyes.

"You're too young to see that."

#t writes✨ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #soccer family ⚽🕷️ #atsv miguel #gabi o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #benjamin o'hara #rosie o'hara

[fatescaprice]

hiiiii ☀️ can i ask for something about aventurine and the reader who is part of the express family (not trailblazer) ? it can be some love at first sight thing, or maybe where they meet again in penacony and turns out they both had some hidden past with eachother b4🤭 of course, you can choose whatever storyline to go with as well with this reader🤍 thank uuuu

aventurine and a nameless reader

content warnings: vague penacony spoilers

note: hello anon!! i went with the second option since i just looove reunions ... i had a lot of fun writing this but i also had to google how a lottery works ... i'm embarrassed ... i hope you enjoy!

You and AVENTURINE had met ages before he became a bigshot at the IPC, back when he was doing Aeons-know-what to scrape by. Whether you were friends or rivals or had to use every fibre in your body to keep yourself from insulting him on sight, you eventually parted ways and both, quite reasonably, assumed that you would never see each other again — the universe was far too big for that, after all. He saw you off as you boarded the Astral Express, and resigned himself to thinking that your meeting was little more than a lucky draw.

That is, of course, until you run into each other by chance in the lobby of the Reverie. He doesn’t pay you much attention at first, but his eyes end up wandering to you almost against his will as he sorts out your grey friend’s room issue. When did you change your hair? Did your voice always have that kind of cadence? His customer-service smile turns a tad more genuine as he turns to you once it’s over and your friends had dispersed within the lobby. “What a pleasant surprise,” he drawls. “Long time no see, huh?”

Aventurine offers to catch up over drinks, if you’re so inclined. Time is money, but that’s how you normally celebrate making new friends and reuniting with old ones, isn’t it? He’ll treat you to whatever you like while you tell him about your travels.

Even after he gets his own business sorted, he can’t help but notice how you two seem to keep running into each other, as if by little twists of fate. Your room across from his, the sound of you laughing with your pink-haired friend in the lobby, the sight of your back as you wander around the Golden Hour.

If fate keeps bringing you together, Aventurine would be a fool to not capitalise on it, wouldn’t he? He’s quick to slink over to your side and suggest a wager: “You look lonely,” he’ll say, rolling a coin back and forth over his knuckles. “Say, if I win big at the lottery over there, how about we spend the rest of the day together? We can even call it a date if you like.”

It’s a bit of an unfair bet, all things considered — he doesn’t often make bets he can’t win, and while it’s little surprise to him as he claims his prize, he also takes the time to relish in your surprised expression. What, did you really think he would lose? Don’t be silly. Now, tell him what you want to do — he’s already planning an itinerary in his head before work inevitably drags him away that evening.

Even as you two spark up another conversation (What’ve you been up to all this time? Got any travel destinations he might like?) he can’t tell you the whole truth, not yet — but in the meantime he can wrap one arm around your waist just like this, and watch how the dreamscape tints your eyes a shade of the most opulent gold.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #✎... writing.

[prettyrealm]

what do people like most about you?

pick a card #1: what most people in your life - friends, family, coworkers, etc. - like about you ♡

how to participate:

♡ think to yourself “what do people like about me?”

♡ pick the my melody plush that you feel most drawn to.

clear your mind & take as long as you need to choose. keep in mind that you may feel drawn to & choose more than one. you also may not feel drawn to any of them, so don’t force it! these readings will be honest. the piles are in order from left to right.

pile 1 ♡

they like that you’re strong and know how to handle things on your own. they like that you’re courageous, confident & don’t let people walk all over you. they like that you’re protective of yourself and the ones you care about. they like that you’re able to compromise & get along with or work with people you don’t like. they like that you don’t let circumstances get in the way of your end goal (like you may have had a harsh upbringing or even may be going through a rough patch right now, but you don’t use that as an excuse and you handle business regardless), they like that you’re a loyal friend or just a good ally to have in general. they like your ideas and the different view points that you bring to the table. they like that you’re generous and unselfish when it comes to knowledge, but also material objects.

pile 2 ♡

people like that when they’re around you, you feel like a bestfriend (you might be the type or person people want to hang out with all the time), they like that you seem to be the ride or die type that you’re flexible enough that you’re someone they can get crazy with, but also have a lazy day and just relax with. they like that you’re a comforting presence to be around and a good source of emotional support (you’re probably good at distracting people from their problems), they like you work on yourself a lot and put in the effort to be your best, they like that you’re fair and have good judgement, they like that you’re willing to sacrifice for others or will take the short end of the stick to make everyone else happy. they also may like that you aren’t hard to look at (attractive)

pile 3 ♡

they like that you’re loving (you may have a mom vibe or just make people feel like family), they love your kindness and your love for your loved ones in general - it’s clear that you value family a lot, they like your happy and carefree demeanor, they like that you plan things well and have good timing, they like that you cherish good times and creating good memories, they like that you seem to remember things well (this could be good memory in general, but i see this as you remembering small facts about people and impressing/shocking them when you casually bring it up later), they like that you genuinely care about societal issues and aren’t afraid to speak up about it, they like your creativity & that you’re good at saving/making money.

pile 4 ♡

they like that you’re always on the go and ready for an adventure, they like that you like to indulge in life (maybe you’re a foodie or you like to go out a lot, i see vacations, bars & good food), they like that you like to share & you’re unselfish when it comes to sharing your lifestyle with others (you could be the type to take people out to eat a lot or show them about a cool place they didn’t know about), they like that you don’t let things or people disrupt your plans, they like that you’re a good gift giver, they like that you’re responsible enough in a sense that you don’t play victim and take accountability for your actions, they like that you can take care of yourself & they like that you’re romantic and value that sort of connection.

pile 5 ♡

people like that you seem to have a lot of pride & self respect, they like that you’re discerning with a strong moral code, they like that you’re confident, they like that you have a sharp tongue and come up with slick remarks or are good at throwing shade, they may find you funny and think you tell good jokes or you’re good at making fun of people in a playful way, they like that you don’t let setbacks hinder you (even if you’re upset, you power through it), they like that you care about women (or maybe women just feel comfortable around you in general), they like that you’re romantic, they like that you’re unpredictable and do what you want/follow your heart.

pile 6 ♡

they like that you’re good hearted and laugh a lot, they like they you’re smart and good at working out details/solving problems, they think that you give good advice (people may want you to steer them in the right direction or give them instruction on how to do things), they like that you can be a source of hope and confidence, they like that you’re able to stay optimistic and that you’ve succeeded in overcoming something very bad (congratulations!), they like that you think differently than others and may see you as innovative, they like your connection with animals and love for nature or care for the environment, they like that you refuse to sacrifice your integrity & they like that you have a variety of different interests.

pile 7 ♡

people like that you’re smart & intuitive (it’s like you just seem to “know” things), they like that you aren’t afraid to be yourself and walk your own path, the people around you might think that you’re in a transitional phase right now, and they like that you’ve learned a lot about life (it’s as if you’ve become more wise and have learned to give up things that don’t matter to focus on what’s really important), they like that you don’t care about what other people think and are willing to take one for the team or get treated like a black sheep/out cast in favor of what you believe in, they like that you’re curious and do your research & they like how spiritual you are.

pile 8 ♡

people like that you can be a bit ruthless and controversial (maybe you cuss a lot) they see this as real and uncensored (like what you see is what you get), they like how much you care about connection and having a partner to build a future with (they probably see you as loyal and devoted in this sense, and not afraid to go after a lover), they like that you’re patient and know how to think before you act (you aren’t impulsive), they like that you’re a hard worker and are good at what you do (well versed in your craft whatever that may be), they like that you’re humble and genuinely care about others well being & that you can think outside of yourself.

pile 9 ♡

people like that you can be a source of motivation, they like that you’re self-made and may even see you as a good rolemodel! people find you charismatic (and maybe even a bit dreamy), people like that you care for others a lot and admire that you will always share the things you’ve earned with others (they feel as if you really give and love unconditionally), they like that you always have good news or some type of gift you’ve earned as a result of your hard work (whether it be a raise or you some how coming across money/success/greater opportunities), they like that you seem trusting and aren’t too skeptical of others (you let people in easily) and that you’re very forgiving, they like that you’ve completely devoted yourself to something, they like that you’re easy to get in contact with and are always ready to help & they like that you’re nurturing.

#tarot #tarotblr #pick a card #pac #celebrity tarot reading #kpop tarot #personal tarot reading #my melody #sanrio #free tarot readings #piano tarot

[ghost-proofbaby]

you showed me colors (eddie munson x fem!reader)

"YOU SHOWED ME COLORS YOU KNOW I CAN'T SEE WITH ANYONE ELSE."

summary: the soulmate au based on "illicit affairs" by taylor swift that almost no one asked for.

warnings: ANGST, HURT/NO COMFORT, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, strategic use of pet names, allusions to sex but none described, reader is referred to as a girl a few times, no use of Y/N, canon compliant. not really edited (cause i'm not putting myself through this shit again).

wc: 15.1k+

a/n: im genuinely sorry for once. blame @abibliophobiaa and @breddiemunson for this. also, thank you @hellfire--cult for helping me with the header!!! please take all those warnings very seriously. please. (also shout out to ash who got her own divider sort of so she'd know when to stop reading because my baby doesn't like angst 😅)

The first thirteen years of your life, you only had second hand accounts to trust when it came to colors. 

The sky is blue, soft and dreamy, nearly translucent until grey wisps of clouds would overrun it on stormy days (although, the clouds, you could make out). Most grass is green, verdant and rich as it sprouts from the hard dirt. Even the yellowing strands are most likely gorgeous, a sign of life and death, a sign that someone once stood atop the green and held their ground. Roses come in a rainbow of shades, but everyone seems to adore the staunch red ones the best. The plush pink of a lover’s kiss-bitten lips, the warm brown fur of the dogs you passed by on the street, the deep violet of the plums your mother proclaimed as her favorite fruit. A range of colors you had only ever heard of, never experienced yourself. 

For thirteen years, all you had was stories. Nothing tangible, nothing solid in your palms. Mere crumbs of a promise of what you would have one day, when you met your soulmate.

When you met him. 

It wasn’t the most pleasant of circumstances in which you two met. You’d spent a lot of your childhood fascinated with the concept and lost in daydreams about it – maybe they’d be a stranger you caught the eye of on the train, or maybe they’d be the one making your coffee at a quaint cafe in a big city someday. Whoever they would be, you wanted them to be made of all the fairytales. You wanted a meeting to challenge every romantic story you’d been fed through your youth, you wanted a love that would shake the very Earth you wandered from the first time your eyes met theirs. 

Your reality seemed as far from earth-quake inducing as they could get, at the time. Looking back, though, you wish you could plead and change your youthful mind. Because the day wasn’t perfect, the situation was terrible shades of melancholy, but none of that really matters; what matters is that on that sunny Wednesday afternoon, you met him. 

Scraped knees. You had scraped knees, sitting embarrassed and frazzled beneath a tree as you tried to sink into the shade surrounding its base and erase the memory of what had just transpired. You could still hear all the other kids’ taunts echoing through your mind, cruel and unnecessary words that were suited to follow you the rest of your days. Comments on your looks and teases of things you couldn’t change. Seeds of insecurity that were hard to swallow at the beginning of your teen youth. 

You were still picking at the edges of your open wounds with slow drying tears still coating your cheeks when his shadow joined the tree’s. 

“Are you alright?” 

You looked up immediately to find a boy standing there. Your eyes had traveled slowly, taking in his baggy jeans with patchwork knees and his oversized faded t-shirt first. Even with the hand-me-down clothes, you could recognize his gangly limbs beneath it all. A frail frame and hunger-panged face. An overgrown buzz cut, no doubt prickly as the hairs stood to attention. Sunken in eyes brimming with concern for you. Whatever shade they were, they had to be dark; they were nearly black in the shades of grey your eyes could currently pick up on.

The thing about soulmates, is the colors don’t happen until you touch your soulmate. 

“I’m fine,” you stubbornly replied, wrapping your arms around your shins and tucking your knees beneath your chin despite the sting. 

“You don’t look fine.”

“Then stop looking.” 

He threw his hands up defensively, shrugging a bony shoulder, “Sorry.” 

He wasn’t sorry. Even with the wince that graced his face, he wasn’t sorry for checking in on you. You knew it the moment you caught the broken skin on his knuckles, nearly matching the cuts on your knees. You had fallen on the pavement as you’d tried to run away from the bullies, determined to not let them see you cry. The entire ordeal had been mortifying. You wished you would have just stood there and cried, let them hear your sobs and let them crown you the school’s newest crybaby. 

“What happened to your hands?” you sniffled, moving to wipe at your nose. Your cheeks were drier now, the skin nearly stiff where the tears marks remained. 

When you mentioned it, he suddenly shot his hands out before him, flexing each hand for emphasis as he looked down with boredom, “What? The cuts? Carver has sharp teeth, ‘s all.”

“Carver?” One of the kids who had just partaken in tormenting you. 

“Yeah,” the boy nodded, suddenly plopping himself onto the ground beside you. You flinched and he grimaced in a silent apology once more, “I think he was in the middle of saying something when I punched him, but that’s not surprising. He always has his big mouth open-” 

He was cut off mid-insult by a soft snort of laughter. Looking up, all of the previous annoyance at his injured knuckles melted away as he caught you fighting back your laughter. 

“What? I say somethin’ funny?” he was biting back his own grin, raising an eyebrow. 

You only laughed more, shoulders shaking now with entertainment rather than sobs. “I- Yeah, sorry, I just- God, you’re right. Carver does have a big mouth.” 

“The absolute biggest.”

“Bigger than the Atlantic ocean.”

His chuckling joined yours, along with a face splitting grin and eyes that you swore shone between the monotonous tones. “God, bigger than the fucking Pacific ocean. Every ocean, as a matter of fact.” 

You both leaned back against the rough bark of the tree, just close enough you could feel his heat through the summer air but not quite touching. Not yet. You let the back of your head thump against the trunk and tried to not think about any of the debris sure to end up in your hair. 

“So…” you sighed once the two of you composed yourself from your laughing fits, “I’m assuming you punched Carver?” 

He only nodded in answer.

“Can I ask why?”

Part of you wanted to assume that the two events were connected; Carver bullying you, and this boy punching him. But you didn’t want to make such a bold assumption about some stranger. Fellow peer or not. 

“Because he made fun of you.” 

The assumption wasn’t so bold. Your chest constricted, you remembered the sting of your knees, heard the echoes of the other students’ laughter at your fall once more. 

“You punched him just because he made fun of me?” you tried to force out a joking tone, as if it wasn’t a big deal, as if it wasn’t making your heart swell, “You don’t even know me.” 

“Doesn’t matter. He made fun of you,” the boy said with concrete decisiveness. There wasn’t a quiver of doubt to be seen, as if the logic made perfect sense to him. Your heart swelled more, painfully so. He looked down at one of his hands for a moment, before suddenly shrugging and rolling his head to look at you, sticking it out towards you, “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

A certain security blanketed the moment. This kid, Eddie, had punched a guy for making fun of you. You’d never even spoken to him before that day, much less would you have considered bruising your own knuckles for him. But he had for you. Without hesitation, apparently. Just some boy with a sliver of a gap still between his front teeth, a promise of freckles across the bridge of his nose, and blood on his hands as a reminder of your honor. 

Teachers were certainly going to be coming to find the two of you soon. There would be consequences, most likely more on Eddie’s part than yours, but that didn’t matter. There, in the shade of an oak tree of a middle school you’d soon be departing only to join the ranks of some awful high school with bigger and badder bullies, with larger and crueler problems than skinned knees, you had a friend. 

“I’m-” you started, reaching out your hand to meet his halfways. But you stopped, because the moment your palm met his, it happened. Suddenly, quickly, unexpectedly. It nearly gave you an instantaneous migraine; the flood of color was so overwhelming. 

The first color you saw was the soft, whiskey brown of his eyes. Two warm and comforting orbs, blown out to be as wide as your own, as his face echoed back the same shell-shock on your own. His eyes were brown. Not grey, not black, but something more, something russet. Brown. 

Colors. You were seeing colors for the first time. You both knew what it meant. 

“You,” he breathed out with a boyish grin, letting you catch the pink of the tip of his tongue as he finished your introduction for you, both of your excitement buzzing in the breeze, “are my soulmate.” 

—

Fifteen was the age of awkwardness. Thirteen had been awful, sure, full of changes and growth and such, but fifteen made it seem like a cake walk. 

You wouldn’t have survived it without Eddie. 

Two years into the friendship, the two of you were inseparable. You had always spent your entire childhood assuming that when you found your soulmate, it would all fall into place, romantically speaking. But then Eddie happened. Eddie, your soulmate, fell right into your lap and you realized all of your childish dreams were pale in comparison. 

He was your best friend first and foremost. Even if he hadn’t been revealed as your soulmate on that day, you have no doubt that the trajectory of your friendship would have stayed on this path. From the beginning, both of you decided to Hell with society’s expectations of soulmates. Sure, most people didn’t find their soulmates until later in life, when it made sense for the sparks of romance to fly instantly, but the adults still seemed to expect that when the news broke. Your parents had been concerned, Eddie’s Uncle Wayne had been weary, your teachers had been blatantly confused. 

It was fun for the two of you, though. The thrill of introducing each other as, “This is my best friend. Oh, also my soulmate, but, hey. Technicalities, am I right?” 

Most of the kids in your grade hadn’t met their soulmates quite yet, especially those first few years. A sense of superiority sprouted in both of you to be able to know, to experience, to lavish in a world of color. To have the weight of finding your better part lifted off your shoulders so soon in life. 

You and Eddie had an entire lifetime to figure out the romantic aspect of it all. For now, he was your best friend, and you were his, and that was enough. 

Once you two had entered high school, one thing did become very clear: the parading of being soulmates had to cease. 

Jason Carver had been enough of a menace in middle school, but grew into a fully formed monster once he joined your ranks in high school. People were not kind to Eddie – they hadn’t been in middle school, when he first moved to Hawkins, and they weren’t going to change their tune suddenly in high school. The bullying you had endured had begun to fade, but his age of torment had just begun. 

You never once left his side. It didn’t matter to you if the entire school knew you were soulmates or not. It didn’t even matter that you two were soulmates; he was your best friend, and you would be damned before you left him to battle the tides alone. 

“I hate this,” he mumbled as he sat on the toilet of his shared bathroom with Wayne in their trailer, you kneeling between his legs as you blotted at his split lip with an alcohol wipe, “I should have punched the asshole back.” 

“No, you shouldn’t have,” you scowled, furrowing your brows even deeper in concentration, “And stop talking – you’re making it worse.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but you quieted him with a glare. 

Just as you wouldn’t have survived the Age of Awkwardness without Eddie, he wouldn’t have survived it without you. 

You finished cleaning off the dried blood before tossing the wipe into the overfilled trash can, sighing heavily as you fell back onto the ground and supported yourself against the wall opposite of him. 

You leveled each other into a staring contest, eyes blankly boring into each other with emotionless expressions. 

“You’re lucky Wayne isn’t home, y’know,” you finally broke the silence, shooting a hand out to grab his ankle and give it a squeeze, “He’d probably be driving down to the school right now and-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waved you off, shaking his head, “I know. Trust me, I know. I think Principal Higgins is starting to hate him more than he hates me.” 

“Principal Higgins doesn’t hate you.”

“You’re right – he loathes me.” 

The hand that was squeezing his ankle quickly traveled up to his knee to slap it, “Eddie.” 

He raised his hands up in the air, lifting his brows for emphasis as he exclaimed, “What? You know I’m right, kid.” 

Kid. The loving nickname Eddie had adorned you with the moment he found out he was a mere six months older than you. You hated it, and he loved that you hated it. 

“The day you’re right is the day pigs fly, old man.”

Old man. The nickname that served as your attempt at a rebuttal. It didn’t work, not as intended. 

He chuckled softly at that, as he usually does when you call him that, and only smacked his palms onto his thighs, “Well, doc, I must say – you’ve done an exquisite job. Am I free to go?” 

You tried to fight your smile, tried to linger in the anger sparked from seeing Eddie hurt. Your disdain wasn’t directed at him; it was always a loaded gun pointed at whoever dared to lay a hand on your boy. You probably could have had a spotless reputation without Eddie Munson in your life, but you’d found your fists quick to fly in his defense. 

Your parents hated it. Wayne secretly adored it, even when he’d still join in scolding you and Eddie alike on avoiding violence. 

“Sure,” you shrugged, before grabbing his calves through denim to stop him. Dark blue denim, a deep shade of navy that you still hadn’t grown used to seeing. You hadn’t even realized jeans came in so many different shades until you met Eddie, and you’d always chastised him when he’d opt for a boring black pair, “But first, a payment is required.”

“A payment?” Eddie tilted his head, looking down at you curiously.

“A payment.” 

“And what would this payment be?” 

“A movie night,” you grinned wildly, finally letting your grip on him go, taking in the chestnut highlights of his curls and the red font of his t-shirt, a band shirt you’d never heard of but that he had recently gotten into, “Snacks provided by my loving host, you, of course.” 

He exaggerated his pondering, bringing a hand to his chin, stroking dramatically. As if he was ever capable of saying no to you. 

“Hm,” he hummed, his voice echoing through the tiny space and encasing you in warmth. As serene as that first summer day when he’d taken the leap of sitting down next to you in the grass, back to a tree, palm in your palm as colors had swarmed your vision, “I suppose that can be arranged.” 

—

Movie nights were a frequent occurrence. A sanctuary from the shit show of your small town. Sometimes, they had been the illusion of a bargain like that night, and others, they were an unspoken agreement. You’d show up to Eddie’s trailer or he would end up on your doorstep, your favorite candies in hand, and the two of you would just know. No words needed as you’d situate yourself on whoever’s couch, legs intertwining and blankets shared across laps. A bowl of popcorn that usually ended up being spilled inevitably. 

Movies were more fun in color. Some of your friends didn’t get it, still living in a world of black and white, but Eddie loved to listen to your rambles about how the vivid shades appeared across the screen. He loved the way your eyes would light up passionately, he loved how you still smiled so widely at special effects that were made more poignant by this gift the two of you had been given. 

Time. You two had been given the time most soulmates weren’t allotted. A gift you always thanked the Universe for. 

The latest Slasher film that had been released was currently displayed on the small television in Eddie’s living room, the two of you practically molded to the worn cushions of his sofa. Wayne had left within the first ten minutes for his shift, bidding the two of you a farewell with the warning of behaving. Vibrant reds splashed across the screen as one of the protagonists takes a stabbing, and while you should be shying away from the gruesome scene, you can’t help but stare in awe.

Even after years of experiencing colors, they took away your breath.

“Jesus,” you sighed wistfully, “How do they even make the fake blood? It’s so… so…”

“Red?” Eddie laughed from the other side of the couch, prodding at your thigh with his sock clad foot, “Probably food dye. Maybe some corn syrup.”

“It’s just so bright,” you eagerly leaned in closer to the TV, squinting with a wide smile, unaware of his stare. 

He was quiet for a moment, simply enjoying your joy. Your awe and wonder at the world, the way it seemed as if you two had just met that day rather than years before. As if colors were still a fascinating color to you. Eddie had grown used to them, let them become a part of his daily routine, but you always seemed to shine a new light on them for him. 

Around you, all the colors seemed a little bit brighter. 

“How do you do that?” he whispered so softly, it nearly got lost in the noise of the movie’s climax.

You hummed in response, eyes never leaving the screen. You were watching the movie in fascination, and he was watching you in serenity. 

His miracle. His gift. His soulmate. 

“You just…” he trailed off, no longer caring about the movie, “You always treat them like they’re brand new.” 

It caught your attention. The way his tone was so… velvety, so caring, so affectionate. You looked at him, “I treat what like they’re brand new?” 

“The colors.”

“Because they are.” 

The same assuredness as he used that very first day. As if it were obvious, as if it were simply a matter of fact and not such an endearing trait. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and it only made his heart clench tighter. 

You were his soulmate. 

“We lived without them for thirteen years, old man-”

“Thirteen years and six months, in my case,” he piped up in interruption, wearing a Cheshire grin. 

You nodded and rolled your eyes, “Yes, in your case. Thirteen years, give or take. I just… I don’t know. They still… they still get to me. I don’t think I can ever get used to them. Are you?” 

“What? Used to them?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t know how to explain it to you, not at that moment. How could he articulate to you that after so many years, the colors had dulled ever so slightly? The novelty had worn off, had run its course. The only time they’d ever become as vivacious as the first time was when he looked at you. 

He couldn’t. He couldn’t explain it to you, so he only shrugged, “I guess.” 

I guess, except when I see the color of your eyes, and I realize they’re my favorite color. Except when I notice the varied shades of your hair, and realize how lucky I am to see them in their full glory rather than shades of grey. Except when you wear that favorite mauve lipstick of yours, and I can’t get over the shape of your lips. Except when you wear that pretty red dress, and your confidence has my head spinning. 

I guess, except when it’s you. 

“Well, that’s just sad,” you huffed, focusing back on the movie after kicking gently at his shin. You lapsed into a comforting silence for a few more minutes, letting the movie fill the air. The same cycle; you watched the screen, he watched you, and the Universe watched both of you with a smile as it knew that the right choice had been made. The two of you were meant for each other. In this life. In the past lives. In the next lives. The two of you were the epitome of soulmates, even if the concept had never existed before. 

Thank the Universe it existed. Thank the Universe that he found you that day, below an oak tree, scraped knees and all. 

His voice shook as he quietly confessed, “I love you, you know that, right?” 

The movie faded in a blur for you instantly. Your neck could have snapped from how quickly you turned your attention to him. “What?”

“I love you,” his voice continued its waver, not from being unsure but from pure emotion. The flood of love that pulsed through his veins currently. 

You smiled, the apples of your cheeks punctuated and the chip in your tooth from your youth he hadn’t had the privilege of being apart of on showcase, “Well, yeah. Duh. I’m your soulmate. You kind of have to love me.” 

“Even if we weren’t soulmates,” he rushed to clarify, suddenly leaning forward and grabbing your knee beneath blankets that smelled of home, “Even if you weren’t my soulmate, I would love you.” 

Your face softened. He wished he would have kissed you in that moment. 

But the vulnerability was terrifying, and all that could echo through your mind is the fact that you two had time. So instead of matching his serious tone, you joked, “Well, it’s a good thing I am your soulmate, then. It might have been awkward for your hypothetically soulmate you would have had instead in that scenario, trying to explain why you love your best friend more than them.” 

“Shut up,” he laughed, squeezing your knee tighter, “I’m being serious, kid. I love you. I really, really fuckin’ love you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

“You’re only saying that because I’m the reason you see colors.”

“Fuck the colors,” he was quick to reply, “The Universe can take back the colors, as long as I still have you.” 

There it is. The earthquake you dreamt of as a little girl. The trailer’s across the park never felt it, the kids surely getting into trouble in the forest behind Eddie’s home didn’t notice it, but you felt it. A rumble through your chest, a groundbreaking discovery, a world-ending confession. Your world began, and your world ended, and your world restarted with Eddie Munson. 

“You don’t believe me,” he noted, suddenly shimmying out from beneath the blanket.

“Wait, hold on-”

“Stay here.” 

You stayed frozen in your seat, wide eyes following his broad back and the army green of his t-shirt. No longer a frail frame, face filling out with puberty. He was becoming a man. No longer the young boy who took punches and threw them back twice as hard. 

He was becoming a man, he was your soulmate, and he loved you. He loved you enough he would give up what everyone else considered the greatest gift, just for you. 

Eddie Munson didn’t need colors to love you so ardently. And you knew, at that moment, that the same could be said for you. You would have loved him no matter what. The moment his shadow had spread over you beneath wide leaves and simmering heat, he was destined to hole up in your heart, never to leave again. 

By the time he had returned to the living room, you had paused the movie, eyes locked on where he emerged from the hallway with a polaroid camera in hand and a mischievous grin gracing his features. The camera had been a joint gift from your parents and his uncle the previous Christmas. 

Your eyes weren’t on the camera. They were on him. His hair had grown over the years, wild auburn curls finally surpassing his ears. The awkward style made for ridiculous bed head, something you’d been witness to many mornings after impromptu sleepovers. 

You were fascinated with the way the sunlight caught each strand as they bounced with his eager steps. The trace of gold you could outline. Shades of autumn you loved to run your fingers through when he’d offer the opportunity.

He shook the camera into the air for emphasis, finally catching your eyes’ attention, before he propelled himself back down onto the couch across from you, both of you sitting up instead of being reclined now. “Let me show you something.” 

“O-Okay,�� you stuttered out, unsure. 

He fiddled with the camera for a few moments before he brought it up to his face, resting against his cheek as his eye peered into the small peephole. You were so busy memorizing him like that, that the flash of the camera took you off guard and effectively blinded you for a few seconds. 

“What the-” you started with a scowl, hands flying up to rub your knuckles into your eyes in a sorry attempt to rush away the stars blocking your vision. 

“Just wait,” he insisted, snatching up the polaroid the moment it printed from the camera. When you flashed him an unconvinced look, he continued on, “Trust me.” 

He didn’t have to ask twice. You always trusted him with your entire being, whether for better or for worse. 

The polaroid was slow in developing. Eddie hummed to fill the silence, occasionally fanning around the small capture of you that was slowly filling out in color rather than blinding white. You spent your energy on trying to decipher what song was stuck in his head and not focus on how slow those damned photos always seemed to be in coming to fruition. 

It had only been a few minutes, but it had felt like an eternity when you finally gave up on figuring out the song and succumbing to your impatience with a sigh, “This is the world’s slowest magic trick ever.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but tossed you the camera. You thanked the Heavens for fast reflexes as you were able to catch it rather than let it fall to the ground. The two of you would have never heard the end of it if you managed to break such an expensive gift. 

“Hey!” you shouted as you clutched the camera tightly to your chest, “Be careful with this thing, Eddie. It’s fragile.”

His eyebrows raised from behind where he held up the polaroid he took of you to his face, “Is it? Can we really be sure that it’s that fragile if we don’t knock it around for good measure?” 

“We can,” you snappily replied, glaring down at the camera and fighting amusement, “If you want to throw it around, be my guest. But you’ll explain to Wayne why you broke it – not me.” 

“Of course, kid,” he grinned so wide that it spread to his cheeks peeking out either side of the photo still obnoxiously close to his face, “What else is a best friend good for? Basically signed up to be your permanent scapegoat until the end of time the moment I gave you the gift of colors.”

“And yet, I’m the one usually talking us out of trouble,” you dramatically called back, finally looking up at him and holding up the camera, “What am I supposed to do with this?” 

“I dunno. Break it, take a picture of me. The choice is yours, sweetheart.” 

He still hadn’t put the photo of you down, so you finally reached across the sea of blankets to yank on his forearms. Once you were faced once more with those warm doe eyes rather than the blank back of a photo, you narrowed your eyes at him in indecision. 

He was still smirking. Wide enough that his teeth just barely peeked out between his barely parted lips. You recalled the tales of kiss-bitten lips, the way you’d heard adults describe that deeper shade of pink, and for a second, you considered that it would look good on Eddie. Something about imagining him flushed and bruised by love and lust rather than malice made your gut twist stormily. 

“Picture it is,” you muttered, “Put that stupid polaroid down and smile for the camera, pretty boy.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” 

The camera went off mid-teasing, his dimples on full display and eyes shining wonderfully with the flash of the camera. 

“Nope,” you mumbled, “Just said it so you’d keep smiling.” 

It was a lie. A horrible, pathetic, and badly-veiled lie. 

The photos developed faster. Yours is finally in full color and detail by the time the two of you can make out the shape of Eddie in his, and he was quick to toss it to the side before he shoved yours into your lap. 

“There, look.” 

It wasn’t anything magnificent to look at. Just another photo. The same old color of your hair, baby hairs frizzing at the edges. Same old eyes fighting from crinkling in adornment at the boy before you. You weren’t anything special, not in your eyes. But Eddie’s expectant stare told you that there had to be something more there, something he was waiting for you to pick up on. You scoured the background of the photo for pops of color only to come up empty-handed. All you could find were the tired dark tones of the Munson’s furniture and living room behind yourself in the picture.

“Eddie, what am I supposed to be looking at?” you squinted, bringing the photo closer and trying to figure out the useless puzzle he had presented you with, “It’s just a picture of me-”

“Exactly,” he interrupted, “A picture of you. My soulmate. That right there,” he leaned over and plucked the photo from your hands, holding it up tauntingly just out of reach, “Is a picture of the girl I love. A picture of the one person who makes colors worth seeing, and makes colors worth losing.” 

The sentiment had you choked up. 

“You’re my favorite person,” his voice dropped to a whisper, and he held up his hand with his knuckles facing you as he put down the polaroid in his lap, “Have been since that very first day.” 

There was still a faint scar, right there, clear as day. It casted over the knuckles of his ring and middle finger as a permanent reminder of that fateful day. As if the colors weren’t enough, as if the swell of your heart inside your chest wasn’t enough reminder of the love and care you’d always felt pulsing from Eddie.

You reached out to the coffee table suddenly, picking up the photo of him, glad to see it finally developed. You didn’t even glance at it before you held it up to him, “And this is a photo of my favorite person.”

“You didn’t even look at the picture.”

“I don’t need to,” you breathed out, moving the picture out of your vision to look at him dead in the eyes, “He’s right here in front of me. In full color, treating me far kinder than I deserve.” 

His touch was ginger as he pinched the corner of the photo and took it from your grasp, placing it down atop the polaroid of you, “Don’t do that. You always deserve my kindness – you deserve the entire world’s kindness. I’ll kick the ass of anyone who argues otherwise.”

A soft and shy smile ripped at your lips, made the corners and your cheeks ache as you shrugged, “Whatever you say, old man.” 

He only looked at you, only wore the lovesick look of a man face-to-face with his soulmate.

The movie was long forgotten. All snacks carefully put on the table before Eddie threw the blanket off of the two of you and scooted backwards while leaving a space large enough for you between his legs.  

“C’mere,” he beckoned, motioning for you to crawl forward and fit your head to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed you impossibly close to him, until your cheek was tight to his t-shirt and your ear was thundering with his racing heartbeat. 

You melted into him easily, letting your own arms encase him to the best of their abilities in this position. You took a few selfish moments to just be there with him, to just let his words sink in beneath your skin and the reality of them weigh heavy on you. The heavier it weighed, the further into his embrace you pressed. 

The warmth of serenity and peacefulness of the picture perfect moment nearly lulled you to sleep. But even in the drowsiness, you felt the kiss he pressed to the crown of your head. 

“I love you, too,” you admitted, muffled by his chest. You hoped he felt the words and wouldn’t teasingly make you look him in his eyes as you confessed, “I love you so fucking much. I couldn’t do this without you.” 

“Sure you could-” he began, but was cut off but the abrupt lifting of your head, just as he fingertips had started on a path down your spine.

“I couldn’t,” you insisted, “I really, really couldn’t. I need you to stick around for a long time, Munson. I’m not in the business of losing my soulmate until we’re old and grey and gross. I want to keep you around until I lose count of all your wrinkles and weird moles.”

He chuckled, and the force vibrated against your shoulder digging into his torso. 

You retrieved those two polaroids before you resettled against him, your back now pressed to his chest as you held the two snapshots side by side for both of you to look out. 

He was right. You think you get it. 

When you look at the photo of yourself, you see nothing extraordinary. But when you look at the photo of Eddie, everything just… the world seemingly stops, all moving parts suddenly snapping into place. A boy vibrant with color and glee, a boy who tugged on every heartstring you’d hung in your chest throughout your lifetime. It sent warmth to every crevice of you, from the top of your head where the ghost of his lips still lingered to the tips of your toes wiggling beside his within thick socks. 

It’s more than an earthquake or the world stopping. Eddie doesn’t just stop or begin your world – he is your world. 

A world of wild hair, charming smiles, unfiltered laughter and fierce adoration. Even the brightest shades out there that you had yet to discover were dim compared to the boy photographed in time for you. 

His arms slide around your shoulders, tugging you in even closer,“Just out of curiosity, what is your cap on wrinkles you can count? Because I’ve seen Wayne, and some photos of my old man, and let me tell you – time is not kind to us Munson men.” 

You rolled your head and pressed a kiss to one of his forearms before smashing your cheek into it, breathing deeply as his fingertips drew random shapes over the spot on your chest that your heart rests beneath. 

“As many as it takes, old man.” 

“Whatever you say, kid.” 

You brought a hand up to curl around the arm, right beside when you kept your cheek nuzzled. He finally laid his palm flat against your chest, and you wonder if he can feel the way each beat of your heart called out his name. It was okay if he didn’t – he had all the time in the world to figure it out. 

—

“I just don’t understand why you’re so mad!”

“I’m not mad, Eddie – I’m fucking pissed!” 

“Okay, then I don’t understand why you’re so pissed!” 

Seventeen is the age of being reckless and redundant. Of big feelings and reckless decisions. It is the time in your life for being an absolute idiot. 

Eddie Munson was proof of it as the two of you stood outside of his van, the whistle of the winds around you two from the impending storm lost on your current screaming match. 

“Figure it out,” you seethed, stomping your feet almost childishly as you began to turn away from him, “And while you do that, leave me the fuck alone.” 

“I- Hey!” he reached out for you, but you’re already quickening your pace and hopping up onto the sidewalk, “Hey! Don’t fucking walk away from me!” 

You didn’t reply, only widening your strides. 

He called out your name, and you heard his frustrated groan before he easily caught up with you. 

Damn him and his newfound height. 

“Would you just listen to me?” he shouted, latching onto your bicep and spinning you around harshly to face him.

You yanked yourself out of his touch quickly, eyes blazing, “Why should I? I’ve seen what I needed to see, Eddie. Just go back inside to your preppy girlfriend. Forget about me. Pretend like she’s never stood to the side while her boyfriend bullied you like- like- like some asshole.”

His hair was longer now. Ringlets that cascaded to brush over the top of his shoulders – shoulders that had broadened impressively as he neared the end of his youth. His newest clothing staple covered them; a denim vest you’d helped him distress and sew multitudes of patches onto, a display of his favorite bands that had only painted a new target onto his back. 

Satan worshiper. That’s what they called your soulmate in terrified whispers amongst the halls at school. That’s what all the PTO mothers’ eyes silently cursed when they’d see him with you at the grocery store. 

He’d made quite the image for himself. And you’d stayed by his side, defending his honor at every chance. Your best friend, your soulmate. 

Only to find him eating the face off of some cheerleader at that goddamned party. 

Yeah, you didn’t need to listen to him. You really had seen enough. 

“She’s not my girlfriend!” he waved his arms wildly, the storm roaring loader with his increased volume.

“What is she then?” you insisted with venom, crossing your arms and effectively closing yourself off from him as you took another step back, “Just some one night stand? Some fun to have before you have to accept that you’re shackled to me for the rest of your life?” 

You hated the way your eyes burned. You cursed the tears gathering as you glared at him viciously, masking all the pain with as much rage as you could muster. 

He wouldn’t even kiss you, his soulmate. But he would kiss her. 

“Stop putting words in my mouth,” he warned lowly, tone no longer making a spectacle of the two of you, “You know that’s not how I see it.” 

“You won’t even kiss me.” 

He was stunned into silence. As you spat out the words, the first few tears slipped.

It was about more than the pretty blonde girl you’d found him with. It was about more than the fact he was kissing someone else. 

“I… What?” he whispered, his entire body going slack with defeat. 

The tears fell more rapidly now as you replayed the moment in your head. The two of you were only at the stupid party for Eddie to deal weed from some weird guy he’d met in the arcade, a way to make extra cash. Cash he claimed he was putting towards your future together. You had no idea how you’d gone from sitting on the couch together to tipsy, joining a circle of fellow peers who momentarily forgot their cruelness between shots of whiskey and pours of vodka. 

You were going to hate the game of Spin the Bottle for the rest of your life. You were sure of it. 

When Eddie’s turn had arrived, when the neck of that dingy beer bottle casted shades of ambers in your direction, you had been so excited. Your heart had been in your throat, your head dizzy with the excitement of him finally kissing you. Your soulmate by Nature, your best friend by choice, finally would be kissing you. You had been so sure it was an affirmation from the Universe that the right choice had been made when it came to the two of you. That it was all real, and the colors weren’t a product of your delusion. 

And then he said no. 

“You wouldn’t kiss me,” you choked out, pulling your arms around your torso tighter to fight back any shivers or shaking, “The bottle landed on me, on your soulmate, and you wouldn’t even fucking kiss me. The one person you should have kissed. And you didn’t.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock, a deer caught in your headlights, as he started to stutter out a sorry excuse. 

You didn’t want to hear it. You only threw your head back in bitter laughter, spinning on your heel and preparing to leave him behind once more.

“Wait,” he begged, grabbing your shoulder this time. 

You shrugged it off harshly, “For what? For you to make up some bullshit excuse for it? I don’t want to hear it, Eddie. I get it. I’m so sorry that I’m your soulmate. I’m so sorry you’re stuck with me. I’m so-” 

He cut you off by rounding in front of you, blocking your escape route and cradling each of your cheeks with determination as he forced you to meet his fiery gaze, “Stop putting words in my mouth! That’s not why I did it, okay? It’s not!” 

Your tears fell more rapidly, so quickly that his thumbs couldn’t have kept up with swiping them away if he tried. Instead, he let them puddle against his palms, focus solely on your eyes as he bore into them and whispered, “That’s not why I said no. And it’s not why I kissed that girl, okay? You’ve got to believe me, kid.” 

“Don’t-” you started, but he shook his head, determined.

“No, no. Hear me out. Please. You know I don’t see it that way. You- You’re- I’m not shackled to you. You aren’t some sort of damnation for me. Do you get that? You aren’t some life sentence or burden – you’re….” he trailed off, and you could see the tears gathering in his eyes. Constellations in his lashes to match your own. “I said no because I’m terrified. O-Okay? I said no to kissing you because… because… what if you’re the one shackled to me?” 

The crack in his voice reverberated through you. Aftershocks rattled your bones at his confession. 

“I- We haven’t crossed that line. And I just… if I crossed that line, and if you decided I wasn’t what you wanted…” his eyes searched yours for answers you couldn’t provide to him, not as your brows creased and your chest tightened, “If I kissed you and you decided that the Universe made a mistake, that I’m not actually your soulmate… I- Fuck, I couldn’t take that, kid. I couldn’t.” 

You’re no longer poised to run, to escape him and all the emotions drowning your lungs. You felt your shoulders drop, your defenses burned to ash as you stood with two solid feet on the quivering ground below you. 

There were a million reassurances on the tip of your tongue, but instead you only said, “Why did you kiss her?” 

The question that had pinned you as a flight risk. Because if what he told you was true, and you did believe him, then it didn’t make sense. Nothing that had happened that night made sense if what he said was true. 

“I don’t know,” he seemed even more confused than you, “And- God, I’m fucking sorry for such a shitty cop-out of an answer. But I just… I don’t know. I just did. She was there, and she kissed me, and I kissed back. I pretended she was you, like a fucking idiot.”

The honesty threatened to shatter you, but you decided it was better to hear his truth than risk being lied to. You could move past the anguish in both your eyes, the confusion and the hurt having brewed – you wouldn’t have been able to move past some half-assed lie in an attempt to save your feelings. 

“I regret it,” he whispered, “The moment I kissed her back, I regretted it.”

“Why?”

An opportunity to seal a bandage over the bleeding wound. A chance for him to make it all better. 

“Because she isn’t you. She isn’t my soulmate - she never could be. It’s you, and it was always going to be you, even if the Universe didn’t agree with me.” 

You took a moment to try and picture a world in which the man stood before you wasn’t your soulmate. A world where your palms touched, and your world hadn’t exploded in technicolor. Another Universe where the first color you had seen hadn’t been warm, brown, honey coated eyes. A twisted timeline where you hadn’t been awarded the gift of memorizing the red of his guitar, his sweetheart, or the calm blue tint his room bathed in every early morning. A world where you don’t know the shade his skin turns in during golden hour, or can’t see the way his few tattoos he’d gathered in the past year on his skin are actually a fading shade of blue-green rather than stark black. A world where you couldn’t pick up the Fruity Pebbles stuck between his teeth as he rushed to class late and you teased him mercilessly for it. A world without color - a world without the guarantee of Eddie Munson. 

A breeze roared by, and you could hear the Universe you were in whispering to stop it, to not do this. Because you weren’t living in a world without color. Your world had burst to life when your palm met his. You knew all the colors of his lifeline like the back of your hand. 

“It wasn’t worth it?” You knew the answer. You still needed to hear him say it.

And say it he did, nodding in confirmation, “It wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t worth it.” 

He could have left it at that and you would have offered him your forgiveness anyways. Even if the bond formed between you two didn’t feel like a shackle of chains binding you two together, you knew that there would always be an invisible string wound around your soul and connected to his. You could have spent longer being mad, you could have still walked yourself home and left him broken in the middle of that neighborhood street. But even if you did, you would have eventually found your way back to him. Whether you left in anger, whether you left in sadness, whether you left in mourning – your final destination remained the same. Him.

You may have all the time in the world with Eddie, but even a second spent upset with him felt like a second wasted. 

Not even forever felt like long enough. You knew that now, glaringly obvious by the chain of events the night had followed. 

And so he could have left it at that. And all would be well. Wounds would heal and time would soothe the ache that echoed. But he didn’t. 

He took a step closer. Took a shaky, deep breath. And then another step. One foot after the other until he was toe-to-toe with you as he breathed out, “You’re my future. You’re everything to me. Soulmate or not, you’re all I want. I want to grow old with you until I lose count of your wrinkles, and then some.” 

His chin tilted down, lips daring closer and closer to yours as your stare into his eyes refused to waver. 

Deep, deep brown. Endless, molten, a kind of comforting that says you’re home, you can rest now. How fortunate you were to see the twisting of lively carob and umber rather than lifeless greys. 

Your eyes tried to flutter close, but you couldn’t let them, not yet. Not until he was close enough to feel his breath on your chin before he let out a raspy, “Baby.” 

You folded immediately, took the plunge as your eyes finally shut and you pressed forward with fervent. 

It wasn’t like the movies. It wasn’t fluid and instantaneous. There was hesitancy and there was awkwardness, and your noses bumped one anothers hard enough to make both of you chuckle into the rarity of space left between your mouths as you both gasped in waves of air before returning to one another. His hand took its time before it grabbed your waist, and it trembled the entire time. Your arms shook the entire way they lifted until they wrapped around his neck and shoulders, unsure of where exactly to lay comfortably. 

But none of that mattered. Because he was kissing you – your soulmate was finally kissing you. And you had never kissed another soul before that night, but you knew immediately you’d never want to kiss another soul. 

It wasn’t like the movies or fairy tales, but it was enough. 

And you knew he felt the same way when the kiss was broken by the grin that split his lips just as the sky began to spit out the beginning of its inevitable downpour. 

—

You hadn’t heard from Eddie in three days. Which, fair enough. Finals season was nearly upon you two and you knew he had been stressed. Since the night of that party nearly a year before, you two had become even more inseparable if possible. You two had finally crossed a line, had finally accepted your status of soulmates, and no one would dare to demand the two of you detach from each other’s sides once you made the announcement that you were officially together. 

Wayne had worn a knowing smile. Your parents had simply warned Eddie to not hurt you (as if that was even an option for him at this point). Even Principal Higgins had offered a polite smile when he caught you two holding hands in the hallway, surprisingly not commenting on the public display of affection. You two were officially dating, officially succumbing to the status quo of what soulmates should be. 

Everyone had already sort of known there was something there between you two, but making it official removed any sliver of doubt any of them may have harbored. 

And so it was fine if Eddie needed space. It had been that way before your first kiss, occasionally learning how to stand as your own entities rather than solely a joint force, and it could continue to be that way after your first kiss. 

But after three days, you had started to worry. 

Pacing your room, you told yourself you were being ridiculous. This was fine. Space was good – space was needed. 

Space didn’t help with all your what-ifs, though.

What if he was hurt? What if he was sick? What if he was mad at you? What if the longer you gave him that space, the starcher of a revelation he would have that he didn’t need you? What if the two of you had flown into all of this too fast, too quickly, too soon? It may have taken years to get there, but what if Eddie suddenly decided the last year had been too much? 

You were in your car, driving recklessly down the streets that would lead to his house, before you could even think of another what if. 

If it was that last thought that crossed your mind, if everything between the two of you had become simply overwhelming for him, you convinced yourself it would be okay. It would be just fine, you could handle it as long as he told you as much to your face rather than hiding behind distance put between you. It remained a mantra spinning through your storming mind the entire drive; it will be fine. It will be okay. As long as he says it, I can handle it. Anything for him.

You never considered that one of the other possibilities was more likely. Not until you had your car haphazardly parked in front of the Munson’s trailer, fist banging on their front door before Wayne threw it open with tired eyes and wrinkles bunched in concern. 

“Is he here?” you breathed out in lieu of a proper greeting, breathless from your jog up to the damn porch from your car that you hadn’t even bothered with locking up.

It will be fine. It will be okay. As long as he says it, I can handle it.

Wayne understood immediately, stepping to the side as he nodded and motioned for you to come in, “He’s in his room. But listen, he got some news, and he’s not do-”

You didn’t hear the rest of Wayne’s warning, too busy storming past him and flying to Eddie’s bedroom door. You didn’t even knock, bursting through the door and already fighting tears as you geared up to hear Eddie say that he needed time and space, that he had gotten sick of you, that he wanted to experience more life before you guys really gave any of this a fighting chance. 

“Eddie, can you please tell me why you’ve just up and disappeared-” you cut off your plead the moment you laid eyes on him. 

He wasn’t facing the door. He was curled up in bed, back to you, clad in nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. You could see the stubborn knots that had built up in his hair, immediately keyed in on the way he was trying to collapse into himself. His knees were nearly buried in his chest, and if you squinted into the dark room, you’d see the outline of his spine beneath the flash of skin peaking out from where the back of his shirt had raised. 

It wasn’t just the state of him; the state of the room also immediately silenced you. 

Almost as if a war path had been torn through it days before, the bedroom was messier than normal. Eddie was never the most organized or pristine person, but he kept his living space well enough to… well, live. Kept the floor always within sight, tried to never let any collection of trash overflow on the tops of his dressers or desk. He even found himself emptying his ashtrays without your reminding most of the time. Usually, most of the clutter simply came from mountains of papers detailing campaigns or writing new songs, or different sets of dice being left out from planning said campaigns. A t-shirt here, a pair of ripped jeans there – sure. He was a teenage boy. It was expected.

It looked as though a level five hurricane had hit Eddie Munson’s room. 

Clothes strewn everywhere, dresser drawers thrown open and never closed. Beer cans collected across each surface and both ashtrays were overfilling with cigarette butts. You even spotted two half smoked joints on his bedside table. His sweetheart had been taken off of its wall mount and laid to rest on the floor. He would never have let his prized possession be discarded like that. Ever.

Your voice came out weak as you took a step closer to the bed, “Eddie?” 

You’re surprised he heard your whisper. He stirred, and your eyes followed the dust particles dancing in the single stream of sunlight that was bursting through a hole forgotten in his makeshift curtains. Navy blue sheets the two of you once used to make a pillow fort in the Munson living room, thinned to the illusion of a sky blue in some patches.

You’d always warned him they make shit curtains; he’d always shrugged and said it added to his feng shui. 

“Eddie,” you whispered again, knees knocking against the edge of the mattress as you looked down at his broken form, “I… What happened? Are you… are you okay?” 

You hadn’t known how to approach it. Whatever happened was even worse than the first time he’d received a phone call from his dad in prison. 

He mumbled something against the pillow he has one arm curled under.

“What?” you questioned, nearly ready to climb into that damn bed and force him onto his back, force him to look at you if only so you could guarantee there were no tear tracks on his cheeks. 

You don’t have to, though. Eddie finally loosened his grip on that pillow and rolls ever so slightly, just enough for you to see half his face and feel your heart break at the confirmation of tears. Translucent pink eyes, glossy wet cheeks, the tip of his nose glowing as his gaze met yours. He looked tired.

“I’m getting held back,” he croaked, “I fucking- I flunked. I’m not graduating.” 

You nearly sighed in relief. For his sake, you don’t, but the weight on your shoulders lifted immediately. 

“Oh, sweet boy,” you murmured, giving into the need to crawl into the bed. You folded your knees as you situated yourself on the bed behind him, and the moment you’re situated, he wasted no time twisting himself to face you and bury his face into your side, “Why didn’t you call? You had me losing my goddamn mind-“ 

A strangled sob rattled against your side. One of his hands gripped your thigh, fingertips holding on for dear life, “Because your soulmate is a fucking loser.” 

Your chest cracked further, a valley beginning to form as a hand buried into the back of his head, holding him to you as the other hand moved to rub his back in soothing motions.

“My soulmate is not a fucking loser,” you tried to keep a gentle tone rather than scold him at the moment. He didn’t need scolding — he needed patience, he needed care, he just needed you to be there, “Keep talking about him that way, and I���ll have to get the fighting gloves.” 

He wetly laughed into your t-shirt, and you were sure that there would be tear stains when he finally lifted his head, “I’m the one who taught you how to throw a punch, baby.” 

“Exactly. Which means I’ll have you on your ass in ten seconds flat.” 

It was a few minutes of silence that followed; just you holding him, just him clinging onto you. His life line — his single ship of hope in what had been a terribly rocky sea the last few days. An irreplaceable peace settled across all the wounds and damage that had been done in private. You had been right. He should have called you immediately. He should have known that if anyone could make the situation feel less like his world was ending, it was you.

His soulmate.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you questioned in a soft, lulling tone. The endless patterns you’d drawn on his back had nearly put him to sleep, “Maybe be a bit kinder to yourself this time?”

“I just…” he started, finally removing his face from being buried against you, “I sort of had a hunch. O’Donnel wouldn’t round my grade, you know? And I’ve skipped a lot of classes, I know. But hearing Higgins say it just… just…”

“Made it real?” you offered a weary ending to his sentence.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Real. It made it really fucking real.” 

He didn’t feel judged at that moment. He felt seen as you continued on, “It is real, and it sucks. But it’ll be okay, Eds. I mean, I was already planning on the community college for my first year, maybe even taking a year off. If you need any help with classes, you just gotta ask me. Don’t forget I was one of O'Donnell's pets, as unfortunate as it was. I know how to work that woman into rounding up some grade.”

You rambled on a little more, all the while still stroking his hair and back, offering even more solutions. The longer you spoke, the better Eddie felt. You made it all sound so easy — like this was nothing, like it was the smallest of blips in plans that had been years in the making. You weren’t upset, you weren’t disappointed. He deserved your negativity, and instead only received your optimism.

You were with him for the long haul, he realized. Truly. It wasn’t just some one off promise or chain of the Universe holding you to him. He wasn’t dragging you down.

When you finally trailed off, his lids finally heavier than his heart, he sighed, “I love you. You know that?” 

“I love you,” you smiled, “That’s kind of part of the soulmate package, isn’t it?”

“Fuck the soulmate part,” he lifted out of your hold despite everything in him screaming to stay put, to let you to continue to coddle him, “I’ve seen plenty of people be shitty to their soulmates. I watched my dad-“ he cut himself off, throat tightening with memories of his parents. You don’t make him finish that sentence, only nodding in understanding, “The Universe doesn’t force you to be a good person. You choose to be that. Every single day, you choose to stand by my side. You always have. You could have made me feel shitty about this, could have let me see how bummed you really are about sticking out another year here, but…” 

But you didn’t. 

Your eyes softened, a stormy shade of his favorite color, “Do you remember the way you punched Carver that day, before you even knew me?” 

That very first day. The day two souls destined to intertwine had come in contact. The day the Universe had sighed in relief as your palm met his.

He nodded.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered, “You didn’t even know me. And yeah, whatever, maybe the Universe nudged you to do it, whatever. But there’s tons of people who know their soulmates for years and never realize it. Tons of people go to school and never interact with their soulmates. But that very first day… the first day you were at that school, the first day you saw me — we met. You defended me. And that counts for something. And I like to think it speaks more about us than it does about the grand scheme of things,” you brought a hand up, wiped away whatever tears were left on his cheeks with enough tenderness he almost started to sob again, “You didn’t know I was your soulmate. I was just some random classmate, and you defended me without even thinking about it. And I will always do the same for you. Always.” 

You always had, you always will. The two of you had proven, time and time again, that you will always choose one another. It was never about that inevitable bond. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he confessed, quickly moving to keep your palm there, resting on his stubbled cheek, “You deserve a soulmate who isn’t a fuck up. Someone good, someone who can give you the world and someone who… who isn’t repeating another year of fucking high school.”

“You still don’t get it,” you grinned sadly. Your fingertips press into that soft spanse right before his ear, cradling him more urgently on their own accord, “I don’t want or need someone else. You do give me the world- you are my world, you idiot.” 

Idiot sounded perfectly aligned with lover as he leaned forward, burying his face in your neck. Home — he was home as you wrapped your arms back around him, pulled him a little closer in your embrace, clung to him as tightly as he clung to you. 

All the colors in the world, and the only ones the two of you cared about were the ones confined to that small space for the time being, shades of you and shades of him, all overlapping perfectly in sync. 

—

You stay true to your word. The first time Eddie repeats his senior year, and the second time. 

Endless nights are spent studying, you forcing him to focus when he couldn’t, trying to invent new ways to learn that work for him rather than against him. He’s brilliant; you never let your boy forget that. 

It’s nice for a while. Sickly sweet kisses and teasing exchanges. Enough lovesickness to make even those around you two nauseous. Nights spent out by Lover’s Lake, exchanges of promises of a future to come and discussions of whether your kids will have his eyes or your eyes. Kids. You two were discussing fucking kids. And it had scared Eddie half to death to even bring it up, but you hadn’t been phased. You’d answered terrifying question after question with ease, had even joked about what color flowers the two of you would have at your wedding and listened to Eddie describe the house he’d want to grow old in with you in excruciating detail. Sometimes the two of you even brought up what kind of dog you’d have, fantasized about the big yard which would not have a white picket fence (because, according to Eddie, that shit was too cheesy even for him in all his adoration for you). It made Eddie realize that after all these years, maybe you had become the brave one.

You’d both succumbed to the stereotypical soulmate trope. Become exactly what society had expected from the two of you since the beginning. And honestly, you couldn’t even be mad about it. You get it – you got the allure as you had laid with a head pressed to Eddie’s chest, observing all the stars again, a night sky the vision of black and white as your vision went blurry with fatigue. 

“You know, that house sounds awfully expensive,” you yawned, curling a bit tighter into his side. You’re in nothing but his t-shirt, his chest still bare from the night’s activities.

Another new development. Even after all your time together, you two continued to find novelty to explore. New ways to learn each other, new ways to love each other, new ways to further tie your two souls together. An unbreakable knot. If anyone, the Universe included, tried to loosen it, you would spill blood without second thought. 

“Oh, it absolutely will be,” he chuckled, vibrations echoing in your eardrum, “But that’s fine. We’re going to tap into that rockstar money, baby.” 

In between talks of the future, more honest versions had arisen. Eddie and his band. You and your aspirations. Things that neither of you laughed at quite as much as the talk of children or houses with wraparound porches because they were in reach. 

“Do you think you’ll have groupies?” your voice was a murmur, mouth half pressed into his skin as you lazily traced circles on his pec you aren’t using as your own personal pillow. 

It made him chuckle once more, “Groupies? Sure. Don’t think any of them will be very successful, though.”

“Bold of you to assume I meant just you,” you’re able to snark back even half asleep, “Gareth deserves to be fawned over, too. Jeff is definitely a ladies killer.” 

Your hand moved just fast enough out of the way for Eddie to lazily mimic stabbing himself in the exact muscle you were painting invisible imagery across, “You wound me, sweetheart.” 

From this angle, you could catch the exact shade of brown that his faded freckles shone. You could see the differences in tan skin, see where he’d left a pair of sunglasses on his chest during a lake day over the summer and the tanline had remained stubborn. That had been a good day – Eddie had thrown you off the dark, wrapping his arms around you and turning the world to a blur of passing greens and blues before you’d been dunked beneath the lake’s surface. The cold water had stunned you, but him joining you seconds later hadn’t. Always by your side, even when he was being a little shit.

You’ve gone quiet on him, mind overcome with fond memories as the silence came naturally only for a few seconds before Eddie felt the need to fill it again. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, the hand that had mock-stabbed himself now curling around your forearm. 

Your hand against his chest turned to a fist, pressing deeper into the skin, just to feel him closer, before you teased him, “How do you even know I’m thinking? What if my mind is just blank right now?”

“Psychic-soulmate-telepathy powers,” he answered without hesitation. When you only huffed, clearly unimpressed, he pressed a kiss to your temple before whispering in honesty, “You were smiling.” 

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. Usually, you loved memorizing all the colors of him. You loved taking in his doe brown eyes and the harsh blush of his swollen lips. You’d memorize the twinkling of pink staining his skin across his chest and up his neck. You’d pick at the vibrant cherry shade of his painted nails, a sharp contrast from the usual black or sharpie scribbles he’d wear on them instead. 

That silver glint of his rings. The forest green of his plaid boxers. All shades in the palette of Eddie Munson, your soulmate. 

You love him so much, your chest is ready to burst from it. And you told him as much, too.

“I’m just really glad I have you,” you said for only him and only the trees to hear, “I’m really happy you came after me that day.” 

There’s no rush to memorize all his colors and all his shades. You had all the time in the entire world, and then some. The only reason anyone had ever reported losing their colors was due to the death of their soulmate, and he wasn’t in any danger at the moment. He was there, sturdy beneath you, deep breaths syncing with your own. 

If you didn’t learn them in this life, you wouldn’t rest until you found him in the next to finish what you had started. 

“Yeah?” you could hear his grin as he held you a bit tighter. Another deep breath, another expansion of his ribs, and you feel all that time laid out at your feet. A lifetime of learning and memorizing Eddie Munson. A life well spent, “I’m glad, too.” 

“Did you have even a single moment where you…. I don’t know, hesitated coming after me?” your speech began to slur, and you knew you were one foot in unconsciousness at that point. 

“Never,” that same certainty he has always held since day one laced his tone, “Never. I just- I went for it. I made Jason Carver eat his words, and I ran after you. The only thing I’ll ever regret is not throwing a second punch at the asshole.”

Your smile widened, and you knew he felt it. Imagined the comfort he felt at the feeling. Imagined the peace that was washing over him just as it encased you, “But not about coming after me?” 

“I don’t regret coming after you,” he told you, not growing the slightest bit annoyed at your need for constant reassurance. His fingers and palm slowly spread across your lower back, the warmth of their weight carrying you into sleep, “I’ll always come back to you, baby.” 

—

It wasn’t supposed to go this way. 

Spring break was supposed to be nice. Time spent with friends, lazy mornings that you and Eddie slept through, night drives spent screaming out in relief to empty highways because he made it – you both made it. The college transfer was already put into motion, making it so you’d start the fall semester at a University in upstate Indiana. Eddie had taken a few roadtrips with you at his side, already having gotten on the good side of a boss at one of the car shops within range of where you’d be attending. You two had littered his floor with ads for apartments, the ones in your price range circled in brilliant and glaring red. Everything had been perfectly in line. Everything was set in place. Spring break was supposed to be a break to just be kids one last time – it was supposed to be nice. 

But then Chrissy Cunningham happened. And Jason Carver, and an entire town of people who had always hated your soulmate. Suddenly, your own plan for the future had been scrapped, and in its spot a line of new dominos had been placed. One falling down after the other, too quick for you to keep up with.

A group of strangers had banged down on your front door. Had demanded to know where Eddie was, claimed they were friends trying to help him. You hadn’t even seen the news yet. They’d tried to fill you in, but only confused you more in the process, because the words Eddie and murderer should have never been used together in a sentence in the way they claimed the entire town was currently spewing. 

You were his soulmate. They were sure you’d know where he was, but you didn’t. 

That didn’t matter, though. The young boy, Dustin, had been determined. You’d heard all about him from Eddie – about the brilliant mind hidden beneath baseball caps and unruly curls, about the smart mouth you witnessed mouthing off to Steve Harrington first hand as you’d been searching for your boy. 

It reminded you of Eddie. It made you ache. It made you only more voracious in your search. 

And you’d found him – terrified, alone, trembling and crying. A version of him you’d never been privy to had pinned Steve fucking Harrington to the wall of Reefer Rick’s boathouse with a broken bottle to his throat. Wild, scared eyes and hands that shook harder than the day his father had called him and he’d put a goddamn hole through his kitchen wall. More desperation on his face than the day he’d informed you he’d be repeating his senior year for the first time. Shoulders more tense than the night you’d nearly walked away from him over some silly kiss with a cheerleader. 

When he saw you, he’d shattered completely.

The sight of you had him collapsing into your arms, unable to explain himself in full sentences as he gasped and panicked and clung to you. And you had held him, had forced the others to give him time. You were like a feral animal, standing between him and them, friends or not. Your claws and teeth alike had been out, ready to mar anyone who would dare to lay a hand on your soulmate. 

He’d calmed down. He’d explained. And then they had explained and reassured Eddie that he wasn’t crazy. His eyes had found yours over and over, and not a single time did they hold a single doubt for him in them. You believed him; you would always believe him. The cries of the town had been nothing more than static noise. You knew the man before you, you loved the man before you. Your soul knew his intricately, intimately. It would always know him, no matter the circumstance and no matter the troubles to come. In this life and the next.

The colors were never the gift. The gift the Universe had offered you had always been him. 

You stayed with him those short few days. Ran from Carver and his posse, swam in the lake and had kept a level head as you formulated a plan. Find a walkie-talkie. Call for Dustin, call for help. 

When the rest of them had jumped into the lake after Steve, you’d put a selfish hand on his bicep. For a moment, the only thing you were thinking of was him. You couldn’t lose him. 

When he jumped in after Robin and Nancy anyways, you’d followed, no hesitation. 

A dreary, nightmarish world. You’d followed him into Hell – quite literally, it seemed. Except they didn’t call it Hell, they called it the Upside Down. A place made up of all the things children fear, of awful creatures that only served to attack, to kill, and terrible storms of flashing red lightning. A blue tint to the town you’d come to know. Shades of flesh and shades of grey – shades of death – flooded the place. And only you, Eddie, and Nancy could see them. 

Nancy’s soulmate was somewhere far away. Somewhere safe. But she understood that protective stance and the way you’d stuck staunchly at Eddie’s side. She got it. 

A stolen RV, shields made of trash can lids and nails rather than make believe, goddamn spears made at the hand of people all far too young to be handling these things. They were handling the end of the world, and you suddenly hadn’t felt as brave as Eddie always claimed you were. The plan was formulated, and the entire time, you had a sinking feeling in your stomach. You watched Eddie play fight with Dustin, real weapons discarded to the ground, and you listened to Robin whisper the same sentiment to Steve. 

“I just have this terrible, gnawing feeling that… it might not work out for us this time.”

You agreed with Robin. You hated that you agreed with Robin.

And so you stood like a watch dog at Eddie’s side, nearly lashed out when it was suggested you might be more helpful joining everyone else going after this Vecna rather than staying with Eddie. 

It was his turn to put a hesitant hand on your bicep. Brown, russet, umber eyes that flashed with the unspoken question of are you sure you want to do this? 

But he was sure. And just as quickly as you’d followed him into that lake, just as quickly as you had dismissed those awful claims against him, you’d nodded. Because if he was sure, if he was going through it, you would follow him. 

You should have insisted on staying with him and Dustin. 

Because your group of rag tags re-entered that Hellish landscape, and you flinched with each flash of red, not even soothed by Eddie’s hand in yours. And the people around you were now friends; you’d realized in a few short days that you would do almost anything to protect all of them as well, but you knew there was nothing that you wouldn’t do to keep Eddie alive. 

“Hey,” he insists once the two of you stand outside this alternate version of his trailer, somewhere that you should know all too well but that has morphed into something unfamiliar in this world. 

His hand holding yours spins you to face him, a few steps off to the side from the rest of everyone. 

“Hi,” you whisper back, trying to only focus on him. Not the bleak colors of the landscape around you two, but the vibrancy of his shades. You hate the weakness written all across your features, unable to offer him any reassurance in return for all that he had given you over the years. You were terrified. As Robin had said, a terrible gut feeling was gnawing at you from the inside out. You couldn’t help the tears gathering, couldn’t unravel the restriction of your throat. 

“It’s going to be okay, alright?” he does the talking, nodding and lowering his chin to stare right into your eyes. His favorite color now wet with emotion, shining even in the dullest of environments, “Can’t be worse than punching Jason Carver, right?” 

It could be. It could be much, much worse. Everything you two had endured together was children’s play compared to this. But you don’t say that; you nod in dishonesty, biting your lip to stop from letting a whimper escape. 

“I’ll always come back to you, I promise,” he swears so vehemently, voice spitting with determination. Those brows half hidden by the bandana atop his head furrow, his forehead nearly brushing yours.

That, you at the very least, believe. Just as you would find him every time, in this life and the next, he would find you. 

“You better,” you choke out, hands reaching up just to latch onto him one more time. To feel him, sturdy beneath your palms. Alive. Your gift from the Universe, the boy who let you see colors. You almost regret spending so long fascinated with the shades you’d discovered when you should have allotted more time to imprint the features of his face to memory. You should have cared more about that freckle beneath his right eye, the slight crook to his nose, the way each of his calluses feel against your bare shoulders. Shades of blue, red, green, violet, yellow – none of them matter as much as the boy before you. They only matter because they paint the picture of him for you fully. They only matter because he matters, “I still need your rockstar money to pay for that wraparound porch.” 

He laughs at that. And God, he’s gorgeous – his head thrown back, eyes crinkling with genuine joy for the first time in days. No one else catches the tear that slips from one of those pinched eyes, the hidden sadness for only you to catch onto. 

That gnawing feeling – the one you and Robin felt. He felt it, too. 

“Of course,” he finally sighs, opening his eyes back to yours and now holding so many words that neither of you have the time to exchange. It kills you – you don’t have time. You thought you’d always have more time. “Think of this as a test run for that rockstar money. See how a crowd of bats feel about my rockstar skills.” 

“Careful,” your voice cracks, a few tears slipping that he’s quick to swipe away, “I hear they’re a tough crowd.” 

He smiles at your joke, but doesn’t waste his breath on laughing. His lips find yours instead, pouring out every single thought and emotion possible. You feel a tug on that knot you’d tied between you two, everything in your being protesting from pulling back from the kiss. You try to move your lips in a response, to tell him it’ll be fine, to tell him you’ll both return to each other. To tell him you’ll have more time. 

When he pulls back, realizing you can’t, his hand falls from you only to reach into the pocket of his jeans. You don’t understand until suddenly, he’s thrusting a laminated square into your hand. 

You know what it is before you even turn it over. Your entire body strangles down the broken sob as you look down at a polaroid of a younger Eddie. Somewhere safe and somewhere that time is still yours. 

“Keep that safe for me, yeah?” his voice wavers as he produces his own polaroid – the picture of you, “I mean, I’ll have yours, obviously. But… but just… it’s gonna be worth a lot of money once I’m the next big thing in the Upside Down.” 

He’s trying so hard to make you laugh just one more time. It only surges more tears to burn your vision. 

“All I’ll have to show Vecna is this,” you start to joke back, letting more tears stain your cheeks, “And- and-” 

You can’t finish the joke. He gets it, putting a hand over yours, forcing you both to put away those polaroids. 

“I know,” he assures you, “I know. Show him my ugly mug, and he’ll go down without a fight. That’s exactly why I’m giving it to you, baby.” 

Another tear, only for you, slips. You trace it all the way down his cheek, memorize the way his skin looks in the horrid blue tint and try to remember the shade it glows during golden hour instead. 

“I love you,” you say. But once isn’t enough, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he takes your hands in his palms, finally presses his forehead to yours, shares his breath for a moment as he focuses on your sad eyes, “So fucking much. You always were prettier than all the colors combined. Better stay that way till I come back to you.” 

He releases you. Wipes away his tears, has to give you an encouraging shove on your shoulders to force you to join Nancy and Robin’s sides. 

Steve catches your eye, a look on his face telling you he’d been watching the entire interaction. Something yearning crosses his features, and then something clicks. As if this is the first time he’d ever witnessed soulmates. As if he’s the one seeing colors for the first time. 

Maybe that’s why he gives his little speech. Maybe that’s why he tries to plead your case and make sure that Eddie and Dustin don’t do anything stupid. 

After Eddie has made his final request to Steve, to make him pay, he looks at you one last time. A ghost of a grin, wearing his bravest mask to date as he mouths I love you. 

You echo the silent sentiment. A silent prayer. For the Universe to bring him back to you. To bring you back to him. 

—*ash, stop reading here*—

The only way to lose your colors is if your soulmate has died. It’s one of the first things you learn when school first broached the sensitive topic. Your soulmate dies, they take the colors with them. They never told you how the soulmate takes the colors with them – never discussed whether it would fast and sudden like the moment you first touched your soulmate, if the colors would drain from you in real time and leave a path of chromatic grey behind, or if you’d watch them flicker from sight, just as one might watch the life flicker from the eyes of the one they loved.

You’d always wondered how it happened.

You’d been morbidly curious that day in class despite finding it all a bit dramatic. Had looked around a black and white classroom and processed your classmates' different greyscale reactions. Some were forlorn, some were snickering beneath their breath. Some just looked plain bored. It made sense; you were all kids, none of you had ever seen the blue sky or the verdant grass. Only heard about it. Only listened to adults drone on and on about it wistfully. It was never something tangible, something to have and to hold and to lose. 

You wonder how younger you would have looked upon you now. As you faced down an alternate dimension’s fiercest villain, hand paused midair, prepared to launch a lit molotov cocktail with aim to kill, when you suddenly paused.

The shades of the fire burning brightly in front of you have dulled. Microscopically. The smallest of flickers in vibrancy. 

“What are you doing?” Steve screams when he notices your hesitation, “Throw it! Jesus Christ, throw it before-”

Robin cut him off, being the closest to you and reaching over to snatch the ticking time bomb of a bottle, tossing it for you. 

As it explodes against the mangled being before you, another flicker occurs. You swear you feel a stabbing pain in your side, as if that gnawing has taken to ripping you apart.

You swear the bright flashes of yellow amongst the flames have turned to white. The orange has gone so faded, the dullest bits have shadowed over in grey. 

Nancy takes another shot, but you can’t move. You watch it all in slow motion: she doesn’t miss, her shot ricochets dead center, Vecna stumbles before crashing through the wall behind him. 

The world flickers a final time, and all the air leaves your lungs. 

It’s black and white. 

The floorboards, all of your sudden friends beside you, the walls of the old house, the lightning flashing amongst storm clouds in the sky outside.

It’s black and white. Shades of grey monotone. 

As everyone rushes to look out the hole, your knees collide with splintered wood. 

The colors are gone. It’s black and white. 

“Where’d he-” Steve starts to question before he turns and sees you. You’re folding into yourself, no longer breathing as you look down at your palms. Grey. Not a single sliver of flesh tone to be seen. “Are you okay?” 

The colors are gone. 

A cold washes over you like never before, and even if you wanted to take another breath, you couldn’t. It’s not ash burning your eyes – it’s tears, hot and vicious as your face begins to crumple in panic. 

Eddie. 

You don’t even hear them cross the room back to you. Can’t hone in on what’s happened, if the evil has been defeated and if you’d all won. It doesn’t matter; your colors are gone. 

Your hands finally fumble without thought, patting down your person until you catch the corner of the polaroid. You yank it free, breaths finally strangling into your throat without purchase, your shoulders shaking.

It’ll be in color. It has to be in color. He has to be in color. 

That familiar and well loved photo stares back at you. Your boy, curly hair wild and unruly, grin soft and fond. A twinkle captured in his eye and all that adoration that had been rolling off of him in waves somehow frozen in time. 

Frozen in time, frozen in black and white. 

Steve shakes your shoulders, Robin begins to pace and match your panic. They don’t understand. 

Gritted sobs leave your mouth, tears blinding you as you look at the shadow of what must be Nancy.

She understands.

Even through the strangled breaths, earth-shattering sobs that make you nearly incoherent, she knows. 

“Eddie,” you manage to gasp, fist curling around the photograph. 

The only way to lose your colors is if your soulmate has died.

“Eddie,” you manage a mangled sob as Steve pulls back, horror-stricken as he looks down at the polaroid, slowly piecing together what was happening.

Fast and sudden like the moment you first touched your soulmate. Draining from you in real time and leaving a path of chromatic grey behind. Flickering from sight, just as one might watch the life flicker from the eyes of the one they loved.

“Eddie!” 

You’d always wondered how it happened.

You finally had your answer. You wish you didn’t. 

#my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fanfic #gonna run and hide now sorry bye #Spotify

[escha-evenstar]

5 + 1 : Fluster

Pairing: Azul Ashengrotto x GN!Reader

Summary: Five times you (unconsciously) fluster Azul and the one time he flusters you back (intentionally).

Word Count: 1.7K

Notes:

Established relationship.

Azul calls you "sweetheart".

Reader is assumed to be smaller than Azul.

Suggestive themes ahead (nothing explicit and only in Azul's part).

A/N:

This went from cute and fluffy, to spicy and.. well, spicy, as I kept on writing O///O

Five Times You (Unconsciously) Fluster Azul

Complimenting him sincerely

"Wow! I know you're a farsighted thinker but I'm still impressed you thought that far ahead. You're really amazing, Azul!" You said gleefully as you complimented your boyfriend.

He cleared his throat as he adjusted the glasses perched on his nose. It was but a failed attempt to hide the pink blush creeping up on his cheeks. "Well, it is to be expected, sweetheart. After all, preparation is the key to ensure success. And I won't tolerate any sort of failure, not as long as I am here."

You giggled at him. "Hehe~ I really admire that about you. I'm so lucky to have met you, Azul. You're just so clever and hardworking! Not to mention you look very attractive, both in human form and merform if I might add. Also..."

Somehow, you ended up saying a lot of things about him as you continued to sing genuine praises, unaware that Azul's face was turning a deeper shade of crimson for each compliment that come out of your mouth.

"Ah! Your face is red! Are you okay?"

No, he was not. Not after you said all those things about him.

He was a blushing mess.

Saying "I love you" unexpectedly

Azul was having a pleasant conversation with you as you strolled around town on your date. You soon found a bench that was shaded under a tree and decided to take a rest from walking. He was in the middle of talking about something when you suddenly interrupted.

"Zul, can I just.. say something?"

"Of course. Do you also have comments about the food? I—"

"I love you," you said with complete love and adoration in your eyes.

Azul blinked at you. A second passed before his face blushed a bright crimson hue.

"I—" He moved his hand to cover part of his flushed face.

He cleared his throat before responding to you. "I love you too, sweetheart."

How could you say that out of nowhere? And with such an expression too?

Azul felt his heart might just burst out of his chest.

Sending him a picture with him on your mind

Azul was sorting through some papers and shipments at the Mostro Lounge when he heard his phone buzz repeatedly with a customized ringtone, indicating it was you. He immediately stopped working to check his phone.

3 Notifications?

He opened his messenger app, seeing you at the top with your nickname "Sweetheart🩷" beside your profile picture, and began reading through your messages.

Sweetheart🩷: Zuuuuul~ 💙

Sweetheart🩷: Hi hi! Hope you're doing okay there. Remember not to overwork yourself.

Sweetheart🩷: We're strolling by the beach right now. It's such a beautiful day for a walk!

You were currently hanging out with your friends. Azul would have loved to join you, but needed to finish some work first.

He saw three dots on the speech bubble, meaning you were typing another message.

Sweetheart🩷: Look!

Sweetheart🩷 has sent an attachment.

Upon clicking on the file, Azul felt his heart beat faster and his face flushing slightly. It was selfie of you showing the beach as your background. Your hair flowed gently with the breeze. Your skin glowing with the sun cascading over it. Your eyes shining bright like gemstones. And your smile as lovely as ever.

You looked absolutely breathtaking.

Sweetheart🩷: Wish you were here with me. I miss youuuu~ 🥺🥺

He instantly saved the photo of you, storing it inside a private album on his phone filled with dozens of pictures of you, before typing a reply.

Looking at the album, Azul felt himself blush some more from how you always think about him wherever you were.

How lucky he was to have that privilege.

Giving him a surprise kiss

"Here's your tea! Time for a break, Azul," you said as you poured him a cup and set down the fancy saucer with matching teacup on his desk.

Azul, however, was still scribbling on the contract laid in front of him. "Thank you, sweetheart. Let me just finish this last one."

You were pouring another cup of tea for yourself when you remembered something.

"Ah! I was supposed to bring in some biscuits too. Let me just get them." You were on your way to the door when Azul asked you to pass him a file, saying he just needed to check something. You grabbed the folder and gave it to him.

"Here you go! When I get back, I hope to see you're finished with that and taking your break," you pouted.

Azul chuckled at your cute face. "But of course, sweetheart. Anything for you," he said, which made you smile.

"Hehe~ Yey! I'll go get the biscuits now."

Azul thought you would leave after that, but he noticed how you inched even closer to him, and suddenly your lips were on his face, right on top of his beauty mark.

A pinkish hue dusted his cheeks and the tips of his ear.

It felt like an eternity before you pulled back and walked out of the room, saying, "I'll be back!"

He heard the door close, and his hand suddenly lost its grip on the fishbone pen he was using.

He might just take his break right now.

Wearing his clothes

After a busy day at the lounge, Azul was glad to finish early and finally retire to his quarters for the night. He turned the handle on the door open as he called out to you. "Sweetheart?"

He was expecting you to be there, sitting on his bed, patiently waiting for him as usual, before eagerly getting off the bed and rushing to greet him with a kiss and a hug.

But you weren't.

There was no hug. No kisses. No you.

Where were you?

His eyes searched around the room before settling to the bathroom. Azul heard the door click as it slowly opened.

"Sweetheart! There you—" His sentence was cut off as his eyes widened upon seeing your form.

There you were, wearing his white dress shirt. His piece of clothing looked like a short dress on your body. A few buttons on top were undone, exposing some skin.

And.. Azul does not curse, but..

F*ck.

He feels the heat rise on his cheeks rapidly as he gazed at you. Stunned.

"Oh! Azul! I.. wasn't expecting you back yet." Your face show you were startled at seeing him.

At closer inspection, Azul noticed you were wearing purple eyeliner like he was. He couldn't help but continue to stare in astonishment.

"Uhm.. surprise?" You let out a soft chuckle as you brushed your hair behind your ear. "I wanted to dress up like you and wear your clothes as a surprise, but it seems I wasn't able to finish."

Azul was as still as a statue that sank to the bottom of the sea. His blue eyes never leaving your form and his face blushing an even brighter red the longer he stared.

"Zul?" You asked softly upon not hearing a response, head tilting to the side.

His mind was blank except for a single thought.

How were you so cute and sexy at the same time?

...and The One Time He Flusters You Back (Intentionally)

You and Azul were lying down on the bed, each doing your own thing. Although no words were said, you were basked in comfortable silence. However, you were completely unaware of the scheming thoughts of your lover.

While lying on your side and playing games with your phone, you suddenly felt arms wrap around you from behind.

"Sweetheart."

You instantly shut your phone's screen off, placed it to the side, before turning around to face him. "Finished with work for today?"

"Mhm. I just.. have something in mind. Do you remember when I said that what's mine is yours?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"And you know Ashengrotto is my surname, right?" He asked, to which you nodded with a hum.

"Then that means my surname is yours too, isn't it? Y/N Ashengrotto does have a nice ring to it," he said with a teasing grin.

You felt your face heat up as you blushed.

"W-well.. uhm.. that does sound nice.. but, we're not.. married yet," you said nervously as you felt flustered from his words.

"Yet. Yet is the keyword, sweetheart." He said while tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Maybe not now, but we're bound to marry eventually. Maybe I should talk to the Headmaster and have your name changed so you could start getting used to it. Hm?" He was looking more smug by the second. Deviously but attractively smug.

"Azul! You're teasing me again." You covered your face with both hands feeling embarrassed.

You must have looked completely red by now.

"Aw. Don't hide your beautiful face from me, sweetheart," he said as he grabbed both of your wrists with a single hand, exposing your flushed face. "Besides, you know I'm only speaking the truth." He moved your hand closer to his lips and gave the ring on your ring finger a kiss while looking directly into your eyes.

Could you possibly be any redder than now?

You immediately turned your body to face the other way.

"It's bedtime now! You should sleep! I love you! Night night!" You said your words so quickly that Azul almost didn't pick it up. You only heard him chuckle behind you, but he didn't seem to have any plans of teasing you further.

Or, so you thought.

He wrapped an arm around your waist before muttering close to your ear. "It's too early for bedtime, sweetheart." He gave the sensitive skin behind your ear a gentle kiss and slowly trailed his soft lips down to your neck, before giving it a rough bite and sucking hard on your skin.

A quiet moan escapes your lips as he marked you with a love bite.

"Did that feel good, sweetheart?" Azul asked huskily.

You only nodded in response with your face flushed pink. Azul saw this and let out a low chuckle.

"You look so cute like that. Let's see if I can make you blush some more, hm?" He teased as he continued kissing and nipping around your neck. "And don't forget to make those sweet noises for me too."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #escha writes🩷

[99hook]

Casual

“Casual. You throw that word around a lot, but at this point, I don’t even think you know what it means.”

18+

There was a comfortable silence that tended to take over whenever the two of you ran out of things to talk about, but it was never awkward or tense.

He was sitting next to you on your couch, stuffing some Japanese food in his mouth while you sifted through your rice to find pieces still doused in sauce.

“So you’re staying the night?” You asked, glancing up from your to-go plate to see if he made any sort of notable reaction.

He didn’t. He simply nodded, eyes still focused on his food, “Mhm” he hummed, then looked over at you. “Unless you don’t want me to.” He added with a crooked smirk.

“I mean, as long as you don’t take up all the hot water again, I don’t care.” You teased, half meaning it.

“Guess you’ll be showering with me then.”

His dimple deepened with that lopsided smirk that seemed to be contagious. You looked down to hide your blush, but he noticed it.

You heard him set his plate down on the coffee table and felt the shift in the cushions when he slid closer to you. His arm snaked around your shoulder, and you closed your box and placed it next to his.

Leaning back, you snuggled closer to him, bringing your legs up to drape across his lap, and he instinctively started running his fingers down them.

“Update me. I know you want to.” He smirks as he rests his head back against the cushion, looking down at you with eyes desperate for sleep, but refusing to waste this time.

“Let me think.” You sighed. It’s been close to a month since the last time you saw each other, and you were sure a lot has happened since then, but your mind was too preoccupied by the feel of his fingertips slowly roaming up and down your leg.

He saw the thoughtful expression and tried to jog your memory for you, reverting back to the texts and phone calls you’d exchanged over the last month. Shortened details of bigger stories he was curious to learn in person.

“Work? Your asshole boss? Coworkers still suck?” He listed off, earning a chuckle from you.

“Oh yeah, nothing new there. Everyone still sucks and I’m still ready to leave that place. I’m pretty sure my boss is the devil incarnated and my coworkers are his spawns.”

“And you’re just an angel, huh?” He smirked. You could hear the sarcasm dripping in his voice and rolled your eyes.

“Never said that.”

“Nah but from what you’ve told me, they all sound pretty shitty. Except that one girl. I forget her name but whoever the one is that helps you out a lot.”

“Kelsey.” You nod. “Yeah, I love her. Everyone else, not so much.”

He nods slowly. He’s genuinely listening, but his eyes are also roaming over every inch of your face. In truth, he’s just admiring you, but it always makes you feel a little self conscious.

When you can’t hold his gaze, you look down at your hand resting against his chest.

“You always do that.” He says before you feel his finger curl beneath your chin, lifting your gaze back to his. “Why?”

“Why what?” You tried to play dumb, but the look he shot told you that he knew you that was bullshit.

“Well, you stare at me a lot.” You shrug.

“You’re beautiful.” He easily retorts.

You felt the heat creeping up to your cheeks. You were sure he could plainly see the velvet shades casting over your skin from the simple compliment.

It was always like this. He made you feel every emotion in the book, even though none of it was ever meant to form into anything more than what it was.

Casual. That’s what you both labeled it the first time you emerged from the post-orgasm daze and had to figure out what you were doing in the first place before he had to be somewhere else.

It was an easily understood title. Basically like no strings attached, or at least that’s what you concluded. Situationship sounded a little better to you, but with that there was an indication that there was the possibility of a future relationship, and with this, you knew there wasn’t.

“You’re a charmer by nature.” You rolled your eyes, and he was unfazed by that.

“Don’t you like it when I compliment you?” He asked genuinely. You could tell it was a serious question by the way his brows knitted together slightly.

You liked it, yeah. The feelings that erupted from it? No.

“I like it when you shut up and kiss me.” You retaliated. It was a defense mechanism on your part. You just wanted to feel like you had some sort of control here, because Tyler seemed to be ever so collected inside and out.

You on the other hand, spent hours upon hours each night trying to fight back the feelings you got when he did something as simple as send you a heart emoji.

But he didn’t object. He let out a small chuckle and you felt the vibration underneath your palm, just before he leaned in and pressed his lips softly to yours.

The smell of his cologne overtook your senses first. A scent that lingers on your pillows weeks after he’s gone. You felt like you could pinpoint it anywhere, and just know it as him.

One of his hands cups your cheek while the other slowly slides higher up your thigh. You feel the neediness for him begin to take hold somewhere deep within. Somewhere only he could ever reach.

You feel yourself slowly reclining back against the cushions, and him shifting smoothly until he’s laying between your thighs.

“Take this off.” You breathe between leisure kisses, tugging at his shirt. You felt him smirk against your lips before he breaks the kiss to grab the end of the shirt with his free hand, easily pulling it over his head and discarding it somewhere on the living room floor.

Your eyes trail down to his chest. Something about it always gains your attention. Whether it’s the sculpted muscles that you loved to feel beneath your hands, or the tattoos you loved to trace with your fingertips.

He watches as you run your palms from his chest to his torso, and then hooking two fingers in the hem of his sweatpants.

“These too.” You say, tugging at them.

“Yes ma’am.” He obliges before he gets on his knees and slides them down.

You take that time to pull your shirt and shorts off. He keeps his eyes on you, watching your every move with an insatiable hunger he couldn’t hide for the life of him.

When you’re left in just your bra, he stops you before you can unlatch it yourself. His lips find your neck as his fingers work on the clasp until you feel the straps loosen and slide down your arms.

He pulls them down the rest of the way and tosses your bra somewhere amongst the rest of your discarded clothes, before he grabs your hips and pulls you back down so that you’re laying beneath him again.

You instinctively spread your thighs for him, glancing down at the gap between your bodies that’s soon to be closed like you want.

“Ready?” He always asks. His eyes glance up at your face, and you can see that he’s doing his best to be slow and patient, but he’s dying for more.

You nod immediately, twisting the ends of his hair with your fingertips as you eagerly pull him down to your lips.

The kiss a few minutes ago was just a build up. Slow, leisure and delicate. This one was full of desire, anticipation, the eagerness neither of you could hide if you wanted to.

In the midst of it, you felt him completely fill you. Stretching you to your limits in a way that had become the only thing you’ve ever been truly addicted to.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips and a deep, guttural groan ripped through his chest. He held himself still for a couple of seconds, until he felt you relaxing around him.

Slowly, he pulls almost all the way out, and slowly; he pushes back into you again. It stays like this until you can’t take it anymore, and a smirk slips across his lips when you start to thrust your hips up in a desperate attempt for more.

He doesn’t object, though. Truthfully, he may be on top but he’s following your lead. Whatever you want, however you want it, that’s what he wants. It might be taking every last ounce of strength within him to keep things slow and steady, but if that’s how you want it then he’ll do it all night long.

But thankfully he picked up on the cues your body was giving and he could finally pick up the pace.

When you felt his hand tightly grip your hip and pin you in place, you knew what you were in for.

He leaned up some, the ends of his hair fluttering against your cheek as his hot, short breaths lingered against your skin. You felt him sneak a few delicate kisses against your jaw but you had to act like it never happened, or else that’s all you’d be thinking about for the next month.

His name effortlessly flew past your lips when he relentlessly crashed into you, hard, fast and unforgiving, just like the first time when he was obviously trying to prove to you that he was good in bed.

Your nails dug into his back as he repeatedly hit that one special spot that in truth, only he ever did before.

You couldn’t contain the high moans, the wildly breathy gasps and whimpers that spilled out of you with every thrust of his hips.

He was in the same boat, though. You know you heard him muttering a multitude of fucks and goddamns.

His fingers tangled up in your hair as he rocked into you. You could hardly hold on at this point, even though you wanted this to last as long as humanly possible. It was impossible.

He knew you were close when you wrapped your legs tightly around him, and the sounds you made got a hell of a lot higher than before.

He coaxed you silently. Using his lips in one way instead of another.

He latched them to your neck, boldly sucking a spot that he realized after the first time, must’ve been a weakness for you.

He felt pride swelling in his chest at the sound of you coming completely and utterly undone. Just the way your back arched and your breasts pressed against his chest was enough for him, but he was holding back waiting for you.

His teeth gently scraped your skin, but it was enough to send shivers skating rapidly down your spine. You couldn’t control it, even if you wanted to.

Within moments, that warm sensation that was begging to run wild through your body, finally got the permission to do it.

You came with a relieved, blissful gasp that morphed into a drawn out moan, and his low groans and raspily muttered curses intermingled in the air.

Breathless and utterly spent, the two of you laid on that couch for at least ten minutes before he finally pulled out of you.

The second he got up, the sweat that smeared your skin didn’t mix well with the room temperature, and a chill shot through you.

Tyler grabbed your clothes first. They were inside out, so he fixed them before he handed them to you.

You watched as he slid on his sweatpants and draped his shirt over his shoulder, sitting back down next to you.

You hadn’t put your clothes back on, instead just let them lay in your lap as you stared down at them.

“What’s wrong?” He asks after a moment. You shake your head, but you don’t look at him.

Again, his finger hooks underneath your chin and raises your gaze so that you’re matched with his. Something that always gives you butterflies, but you won’t tell him that.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You wanted to say it, but not as much as you didn’t want to ruin everything the two of you had. You knew from the beginning that this was casual. You knew it and you had no right to feel some type of way about it now.

The heart was just stupid sometimes, you realized that when just the feel of his shoulder brushing against yours could make your stomach erupt with butterflies.

“Nothing.” You lied again. “Wanna shower with me?”

He eyed you for a moment. He knew you weren’t being honest but he also suspected why, and it was a conversation he knew he wanted to have, but he always second guessed if it was the right time to have it.

He contemplated pressing the subject, but the risk that came along with that kept his mouth shut. Instead, he just nodded and got up from the couch, extending his hand for you to take, and lead you through your room where the bathroom was.

He started the water, and as his back was turned, you took a moment to study yourself in the mirror.

The purple marks he left on your neck would be there for a while. Of course you needed to cover them up for work but you didn’t mind them as much as you would if anyone else were to leave them on you.

Your lips were puffy and a little swollen, and they were tender to the touch, but you liked it.

You could faintly see the redness that his fingerprints left on your hip, and that’s when his hand snaked around your stomach and he pressed a kiss to your temple, eyeing you in the mirror along with you.

You turned in his arms and offered a smile before you walked past him, letting him get undressed himself while you stepped in and felt the scolding hot droplets somehow relax every one of your tense nerves.

He stepped in behind you, his hands snaking around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder as he swayed you side to side.

You leaned your head back, the water drenching every inch of you, but you weren’t sure it was the temperature of it, or if he was the reason you felt like you were nearly on fire.

“You know something?” You hear him whisper, his breath lingering against the shell of your ear.

“Hm?”

“I’m comfortable with you.” He says. It was a simple admission, but the way he said it sounded almost as if it was a revelation to him. A shock, even.

“Yeah?” You tried to act casual. Key word for everything here, you assumed.

“Yeah.” He continued swaying. “Everything feels…” He trailed off, and the first word that popped into your head was, right. Everything feels right.

But the word he chose wasn’t that.

“Easy.” He decided on. “Everything’s just real easy with you.”

You felt a pang in your heart, but you fought against it. You nodded like you agreed, and started lathering body wash all over yourself.

He helped, rubbing the suds all over your skin, then reaching behind him to grab the shampoo and pouring some in his hand.

You felt his hands lathering it through your hair, pausing for a second cause the gesture made your heart flutter, but you then reminded yourself that you shouldn’t feel like that.

You let him shampoo your hair, then turned around, facing him as you rinsed it all out. He watched you with exhausted eyes and a crooked smirk, then grabbed your hips and pulled you into him.

“You wanna go out tomorrow before I leave?” He asks. Of course the first thing you thought was, like a date? Of course you didn’t ask that question though.

“Sure.” You agreed like it wasn’t making your heart hammer against your rib cage. “But aren’t you worried about being spotted with your casual?”

You didn’t mean to add the bitter undertone, but that’s how it came out. You thought he noticed, but the way his lips tipped up slightly made you unsure.

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. You know this already.”

“Even if it gets plastered all over social media? You know how fast rumors spread.”

“There’s no rumor to be spread.” He shrugs coolly. “People don’t know me like they think they do, and they don’t know us especially. Let them think whatever they want. I just want to show you a good time somewhere other than your bed.”

You bit back your smile, looking down to hide it, but once again, that finger curled under your chin and you had to look into his eyes. Couldn’t hide that grin if your life depended on it.

“And Casual. You throw that word around a lot, but at this point, I don’t even think you know what it means.” He smirks, and you felt your brows knitting together in confusion.

“That’s what we agreed on.” You shrugged.

“Yeah, and that’s not what we turned out being.” He copied your shrug.

You opened your mouth to speak but there were no words able to be formed at that moment. You simply stared up at him, feeling like all the things you’ve felt might’ve actually been mutual afterall.

“This isn’t a conversation for right now. I think we’re both tired and probably still loopy from that fire ass sex we just had, but tomorrow, I think we have a lot to talk about.”

You nodded easily, and before you could say anything back, his hands cupped your cheeks and he made sure you were looking intently into his eyes, hanging onto every word he said.

“But if you were just casual, i’d never kiss you like this.” He says before he presses his lips to yours with a purpose that makes your head spin.

You instantly melt into him, arms wrapping around the back of his neck, bodies flush as you were rendered absolutely breathless.

Breaking apart, there were no words left to be said. He simply leaned down and cut off the water, opened the shower door and grabbed two towels. He wrapped one around you and one around his waist before he took your hand and placed a kiss to your knuckles.

“movie, round two or sleep?” He smirked. A coy smirk that made you feel weak in the knees all over again.

“All three, in that order.”

———

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#hook aew fics #hook aew fluff #hook aew x reader

[ffsg0jo]

I loved your Ramadan works with the JJK characters. It's so nice to see another muslimah who writes for JJK :)). I am not sure if you are still actively posting, but would you consider writing a piece with the cast's reaction to the hijab and abaya? JazakAllah!

jjk characters with a muslim/hijabi reader [gojo edition]

gojo x reader [platonic or romantic it's open to interpretation]

w/c: 955 words

a/n: i got so carried away writing gojo's i realised if i added more characters, it'd be an incredibly long post. so i took them out and i'm gonna post them over the next couple weeks <33 so far i have megumi, nanami, itadori and nobara lmk if you want anymore characters :)) also guys pls feel free to send requests/suggestions :))

also anon you're the sweetest person every thank you so so much you've single handedly given me motivation to keep writing and ive got more works coming out. i hope you're having an amazing day inshaAllah bestie 💗

Gojo definitely thinks you’re doing a cosplay of some sort. It’s not uncommon in certain parts of Tokyo, so it’s safe to assume so most of the time. Even he’s been mistaken for Kakashi cosplays a lot of the time, with his black get-up and blindfold.

But then he sees you wearing different colour hijabs and abayas, and sometimes even a cute lil jilbabs and it confuses him. Suddenly, the thought occurs to him that maybe you’re not in a 24/7 cosplay, like him, and actually just dress covered head to toe.

As soon as he reaches that epiphany you best believe he pesters you and badgers you for answers. “y/n are you cold? is that why you’re always dressed like that?”

At first, you think it’s funny to give him nonsensical answers because he keeps saying stupid things, but you realise he's being deadly serious. plus, he gets increasingly bothersome, so you eventually get annoyed from all his questioning and just tell him about how you’re a Muslim and observe hijab.

He actually takes it quite seriously and apologises for lowkey making fun of your shitty cosplay in his head. He’s ignorant, not prejudiced, so he defo takes it back and, for once, takes accountability and apologises for his actions. He’s personally not a believer, but he respects it.

Once, you complained about how expensive abayas were becoming and how you just wished someone would just buy you a whole wardrobe of them to all the students, and he happened to overhear.

Literally days later he’s at your door with multiple bags full of abayas and hijabs and all sorts of modest clothing. You’re completely shick shack shook and don’t know what to say. You defo cry and try to hide it with your headscarf.

He barges into your room (after making sure you’re fully covered, he's learnt from that mistake) and spends the next 5 or so hours showcasing each item and telling you where in the world he got it from, the materials and everything.

He has really good taste in colours and styles and knows what would look good on you. You’re literally set for life. Absolutely refuses to let you pay him back. Every single time you mention money, he shuts you down and changes the topic entirely.

In summer he’s shocked you look relatively calm and okay. He’s literally boiling his bum off with a tank top (I’m laughing at imagining Gojo in a white tank top like an immigrant dad lmaoo) and you’re looking as fresh as daisies with everything covered. He asks how you're not melting and you’re waffling to him about airflow and how it’s actually quite breezy, and you’re not wearing anything underneath, so it’s fine, and he stops breathing and short circuits.

He looks at you with his eyes wide, and his sun reddened face goes a shade darker. "You’re not wearing anything underneath?" He takes it the completely wrong way, and you realise what it sounds like, and you’re both a bumbling mess.

It's the first time anyone’s ever seen Gojo that flustered.

Also some quickfire headcanons:

He genuinely thought you slept and showered with your hijab on, so he burst into your room one day and you screamed and he immediately warped somewhere else when he saw you wearing pyjamas (he didn’t see anything above your clothed knees, he panicked and left so quickly plus he was scared to look).

Gets you cute little clips to put on your hijab. He thinks they’re pretty.

Is absolutely devasted you can’t have mochi and some other desserts because they have pork gelatine in them and he always tries to find vegan alternatives.

Purposefully steps on your abaya/dress when it's flowing and he's behind you to annoy you.

Has extra pins pinned onto his uniform for you just in case you need them.

This is a secret he’ll take to his grave, but he actually tried to make you one of his favourite desserts you couldn’t eat (he threatened the bakery for the recipe), but it went so disastrously wrong he gave up and didnt want to face the embarrassment.

I’m talking melted plastic in the oven, small kitchen fire, eyebrows singed, and potential carbon monoxide poisoning bad.

You wore this specific shade of light blue once with a cream khimar, and for some reason, he was absolutely obsessed with that outfit. It wasn't until Nobara pointed out that your outfit matched Gojo's colour scheme did he finally realise why <33

The abaya sizing really confused him and he was so baffled as to what the numbers meant. Wdym size 52 what does that even measure 😭😭

He was faffing about for 2 hours before he realised he could've just googled it, and he felt absolutely stupid about it.

Whenever he sees a bit of your hair accidentally peeking out he covers his eyes and screams at you to "cover yourself woman goddammit". He's so dramatic honestly.

Thinks it’s hilarious seeing you run in your abaya. He thinks its the funniest thing in the world.

Once (he's lying defo more than once) he was zoned out while watching you and his heart started beating faster when he realised how beautiful you are with your long dress blowing in the breeze and your hijab lightly fluttering. You looked ethereal. He didn't know what to think, and he pushed his feelings back down. Deep deep down.

He doesn't need unnecessary feelings complicating things, but for some reason, his heart still yearns for you.

He also makes terrorist jokes about you to you. I will not explain that one, but he 100% does.

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work in any way, shape, or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

#🌻.sunspell #🌻.nonny<33 #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo satoru #jjk gojo satoru #jjk satoru gojo #muslim reader #gojo x muslim reader

[delzinrowe]

They Find Your Toys [PART B] - HEADCANON

A/N: Without my laywer I won't say anything... WARNINGS: NSFW-ish. Some use of explicit words and scenarios. Nothing hardcore. F!Reader SUMMARY: Self-explanatory. Their reaction when they find your toys. [Established relationship]. INCLUDES: ☆ Choso, Gojo, Geto, Shoko, Nanami, Toji, Utahime, Yaga, Ijichi ☆ → PART A

CHOSO… For being the oldest in the entire bunch this 150 year old half curse has no idea what this palm sized thing is. Even the round opening with something that vaguely resembles a tongue gives him no clue. Being born out of the necessity of the evil guys didn’t really grant him much free time, or even a lot of access to the internet. He doesn’t even have a phone. He’s completely dumbfounded. Count on him to take your toy to Yuji and ask him for advice. After all it could be something medical, what if you were sick and this is part of your treatment? He doesn’t want to imagine you hiding something grave like a disease from him. Once Yuji turns into an embarrassed tomato in front of him Choso would realise that maybe this is something of the more private nature. Yuji would only stammer that he needs to talk to you directly about it, probably yelling at him to never ever come with something like that to him. The intimate adult toy of his half-curse brother’s girlfriend? Must like “How awkward do you want it to be? Yes.”

Either way, he’ll act according to Yuji’s advice and ask you straight up about it. He has to refrain from mentioning that your face turned the same shade as Yuji, he feels that if he confessed that Yuji knew about it as well you might get mad at him. And since he doesn’t mention it you sort of regain yourself quickly, explaining to him what exactly it is and how it’s used. If you think he’s weirded out, no. He’s not. He’s more curious than anything. He wants to learn, he wants to know what gets you going and what makes you lose your mind. He wants to be able to give you the most intense pleasure ever. He’s so willing to learn.

SATORU GOJO… Trust this big man child’s ego and pride to be wounded to the core. While he might entertain the fantasy of you using these toys and possibly even pleasure himself while doing so, he’s still butthurt over having a 20cm long battery operated competition. Needless to say, Satoru will immediately hide your toys, just so he can see you getting more and more frustrated when you can't find them and need that sweet relief. He’d be your hero in shining armour, or rather with an already shining tip. “You look like you could use some relief. I think I could help?”

BONUS: This man right here can be considerate and thoughtful at times. One of the times when he gets sent on missions, he comes up with an idea. Satoru would get you a whole dildo and toy set shaped after his penis and balls and probably even his abs, just because he’s confident enough for that. If his girlfriend uses a toy, it must at least be a replica of him.

SUGURU GETO… Now for this once I will go with him during his school time. Because if it happens afterwards when he turned his back on ‘monkeys’, then he might genuinely be mad at you for wasting money on ‘monkey’ toys, and letting it anywhere near you. However, his student self would most definitely blush. He’s mature alright, but that doesn’t mean that a teenage boy finding the adult toy of his teenage girlfriend wouldn't be absolutely dumbfounded at the discovery. Especially if your relationship hasn’t gotten physical or intimate yet. He’d subtly put it back where he found it. But if your relationship is already at that level, he’d most definitely bring it up. He’s not insecure in his own skills, and most definitely doesn’t feel threatened by the toy either, but he strives for open communication and better understanding. So he hopes that bringing this up will make you open up about your desires, so that he can help you with your pleasure.

SHOKO IEIRI… Oh gosh, Shoko can be a tease, and she’s big into giving you rules that you need to follow. One of said rules is not to touch yourself. You think you found a grey area when you let a toy touch you? Think again. Shoko is strict, she’d show no mercy when she punishes you for using toys without her permission. But you can’t complain too much when eventually the toy is part of your punishment. After all, no matter how strict she is, Shoko does love to pleasure you and make you scream for her until the neighbours file noise complaints.

KENTO NANAMI… He’s a mature one, therefore it wouldn’t be wrong to assume that maybe he was the one who even bought you the toy. He likes to give you gifts once in a while, it’s one of the many ways he shows love, since vocally he isn’t the most romantic. Romance and mental wellbeing, trust and love are just as important in a relationship as physical pleasure, he acknowledges that and treats you perfectly in every aspect. He might even use the toys during your nights together, making you effectively lose your goddamn mind when he thrusts into you while holding the vibrator in just the right angle to your clit. Kento Nanami knows what he’s doing.

He always. hits. the. spot.

TOJI FUSHIGURO… Toji would not let this slide. The moment he finds your toys it could go one of two ways. His ego would be heavily wounded knowing that you evidently still use your toys even though he’s such a sexy specimen. He’d wait for you to come home and instantly throw you on the bed and have his way with you. He’d pound you in every position and pleasure you until you’d be crying from overstimulation. He wouldn’t stop until you’re close to passing out. Only then he’d look at you with this smug shit-eating grin, telling you “I can’t believe you’d ever use toys when you got me, babe.”

However, there’s a possibility that instead of just having his way with you, he’d use your toys on you, for hours, until you beg for mercy. After which he smugly comments, “See, now that’s how you use toys properly.” Wherein he had a bruised ego at first, now he’s more than happy to keep the toys.

UTAHIME IORI… Considering Utahime operates from Kyoto, since she’s a teacher there, she’d be more than understanding in this situation. After all, when she visits you during the Good Will exchange event and finds your toy she can’t blame you. She’s got few of her own. Long distance is difficult when you don’t see each other, but her unexpected findings also open up new doors. Since now you two can pleasure each other on calls, each of you with your favourite toy while desperately moaning the other’s name until you reach your toe-curling, back-arching and overwhelming climax together.

MASAMICHI YAGA… He’s a little tricky, but in all honesty, he’d be as mature about it as Suguru. He doesn’t feel threatened at all. If he finds your toy during a time where both of you are really stressed and don’t have much time for each other then he might even feel relieved about it, considering it would reassure him that you’re not satisfying your needs elsewhere. No matter how strict and stoic he gives himself, deep within his chest is a soft heart that holds more love than anyone would know. Therefore he’s naturally prone to self doubts. He’s mature enough to bring up the topic, even if it makes you blush when you confess that sometimes when he’s busy you need to relieve your stress. But you can’t miss the smile on his face when you mention that you’re always thinking of him during those moments.

KIYOTAKA IJICHI… If you think for even a second that Ijichi wouldn’t blush to the extent of risking an aneurism you are dead wrong. This man, in all his adult glory, has barely ever had a girlfriend. He’s well aware of toys, he even has one or two toys for the male pleasure, but having a girlfriend that uses toys for her own pleasure? The mere thought of that is sending the blood in his body into two very specific places, mainly his cheeks and his genitals. But he would be entirely too embarrassed to ever bring it up. Even after months or years he would never mention how he found your toy that one day. God help this man, you’ll be the death of him.

#stef writes #jjk #jjk headcanon #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #kamo choso #kamo choso headcanon #kamo choso x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru headcanon #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru headcanon #geto suguru x reader #ieiri shoko #ieiri shoko headcanon #ieiri shoko x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento headcanon #nanami kento x reader #fushiguro toji #fushiguro toji headcanon #fushiguro toji x reader #iori utahime #iori utahime headcanon #iori utahime x reader #yaga masamichi #yaga masamichi headcanon #ijichi kiyotaka #ijichi kiyotaka headcanon

[deadpoolsoci3ty]

so you're the a (alastor x reader) ch 6

summary: I was screaming now, How could he do this to me? We had talked for months on end, he knew so much about me, and he wasn’t going to protect me now that I was here with him? Who the actual fuck does he think he is?

word count: 1020

warnings: none

masterlist

Chapter Six: begging

“Yes! Yes, Alastor! It’s me! Thank God it’s you!” I was on the verge of tears, I had never been happier to see someone I had never met before. He immediately reached out and grabbed my face, like he was looking for any injuries. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, my girl?” His smile never fell but the genuine concern in his voice was evident. “You shouldn’t be down here,” his hands were still searching all over my face for any sign of harm. I had just noticed that his voice sounded the same as it did over the radio, excluding his most recent question. 

“Well, whatever 's done is done. Can I come in?” I asked rather impatiently. He grabbed hand quickly and dragged me into the tower behind him. We made our way to his couch and he sat me down on one end and he took the seat on the other. He was looking at me in such a calculating way it sent a shiver down my spine. He gestured to me in a way I assumed meant he wanted to know how I got here. “You weren’t answering, first of all,” I glared at him, and he seemed completely unbothered as his smile didn’t move an inch, “I needed to distract myself so I was on my way to get a coffee, then there was a car,” his eye seemed to twitch when I mentioned this, “then I was lying on the ground, and now I’m here.”

“You were killed?” I’m not sure why this seemed to anger him, but I would think about that another time..

“Yeah, Alastor, that doesn’t matter.” He was focusing on the wrong thing, “Last time we spoke, you said you would protect me even if you didn’t own my soul, and now here I am in hell and you don't own my soul,” I was banking on his feeling for me, I didn’t know how strong they were, “will you?” I would get down on my knees and beg for him to say yes. 

“Heat of the moment darling, you cannot intend to hold that against me~” I felt my whole world collapsing around me. This is not what I thought he would say, I had been dreaming of this moment. He would apologize to me, but I should have known better.

“Wait, no, Alastor, please. You can’t do this to me,” the tears began to well in my eyes, “you said you care about me!” I was screaming now, How could he do this to me? We had talked for months on end, he knew so much about me, and he wasn’t going to protect me now that I was here with him? Who the actual fuck does he think he is? Overlord or not he wasn’t about to bullshit me like this. “Fuck you Alastor,” The sound I made come out far too close to an actual hiss, I’ll think about that more later. Everyone I had seen in hell so far had some sort of animalistic quality, and the antlers and ears on Alastor’s head clearly labeled him as some sort of deer based demon. 

His pupils turned into the dials on a radio and they became a brighter shade of red than they were before, “Sweetheart, there’s no need for you to raise your voice.” His voice was louder than I ever heard it, the static surrounding him is ear piercing. The stare I was getting was snuffing out the fire that had just been lit. He’d always had this ability to immediately pacify me. But, it wasn’t like I didn’t want to. I was upset, yes, but I was still desperate for his protection. I would do anything for it at this point, and from the look in his eye I could tell he knew it too.

“Alastor, please. I don’t even care if you were lying when you said you cared about me, even though I don’t think you were,” he looked unhappy that I was saying he lied, “I know that I wasn’t. I care about you a lot, I know I only know you by your voice but I care about you as much as I have the capacity to. So, please just fucking help me.” Like I’ve said before I wasn’t above begging. I knew he wasn’t lying about caring about me, with the way he reacted afterwards. He was a man after all, what more could I expect. 

“Hmm, I don’t know dear, my protection is quite invaluable,” he was toying with me. He was enjoying seeing me beg for this.

“Alastor, I need you.” I said it as forcefully as I possibly could. His grin turned from his resting one to one that seemed more sinister than anything else. However, it didn’t scare me, like I assumed most of the people who got this smile were. I was really looking at him in the moment, and boy was he handsome. His hair looked soft and his strong features were drawing me in, and I was afraid I could look at him all day. Slowly he arose from his spot on the couch, and with a couple strides he stood in front of me. He brought his right hand to squeeze my cheeks together. The longer I looked into his eyes the more I felt like I was being hypnotized. I’m wondering how much worse these feelings were going to get now that he was physically towering over me.

“My sweet doe, if anyone here even thought about causing harm to you they wouldn't live to breathe another breath,” my heart was beating so fast I was afraid I was going to die (again). All I wanted was for him to give me something, the smallest crumb would do, but I needed to feel some sort of reciprocation from this demon, because I knew he had it in him. “I may not own your soul, doll, but make no mistake,” he jerked my face closer to his, we had never been this close before, and I could almost feel my own pupils dilate, “you are mine.” 

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor imagine #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin fic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel x reader

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Just read your eridan essay. I left a lot of words in the tags (sorry about that btw. I'm @kitkat-not-karkat, those were my tags) and I just. Holy fucking shit man.

THANK YOU FOR PUTTING IT INTO WORDS. Like. Genuinely. Thank you.

That said, do you have any ideas on why Eridan might specifically flirt as a sort of default response sometimes? (I really hope I'm not misremembering that, the fandom bastardizes the poor guy to be Cronus 2.0-)

I have my own personal speculation here, but I'd love to see your take on it!

I think it's a few things all working in tandem, and I think you definitely nailed at least most of it! I do agree that a huge part of his fixation on romance is the fact that a romantic partner is "supposed" to stick around, and Eridan is simply desperate for attention and friendship.

There are a lot of people who idealize relationships and believe that they're the "fix" or "solution" to their emotional problems, and Eridan's obsession with blackrom in particular (where the caligulas part of his trolltag comes from) definitely has shades of that. A kismesistude is an outlet for violent urges, as well as a romantic interest who ideally doesn't ghost you or leave you alone (cough Vriska cough), and one of the two concupiscent quadrants that needs to be filled so you don't get culled.

An interesting thing is constantly being implied within the comic, which is that moirallegiance is actually kind of the most important quadrant for trolls, but their culture has de-emphasized it in favor of the two breeding-related quads. After all, since adult trolls don't have to raise their own young, what Karkat calls "mating fondness" is biologically much less imperative to their species compared to the quadrant that keeps volatile trolls from going berserk and killing people.

Moirallegiance is always treated with a sort of mysticism - it's called "magical" by the narration in relation to Kanaya and Vriska's moirallegiance while that's still extant, it's the only quadrant described as "soul mates," and in contrast to "mating fondness," Karkat mentions the "mystical forces governing moirallegiance." Moirails - Equius and Nepeta being confirmed, but I genuinely believe that that's what Feferi and Sollux would have resolved to in that hypothetical golden ending - are also the quad that spends the most time together, rather than the two concupiscents. The initial description of the pale quadrant even outright says that the attraction is "instinctive." There's something magical and destiny-laden in a moirallegiance that just isn't there to the same extent in the other three quads.

But in Alternian society, kindness, guilt, and the other kinds of things you'd share with a moirail are considered weakness, especially for highbloods. When Feferi is breaking up with him, Eridan flips out the hardest at the implication that she felt the need to take care of him, insisting that he was perfectly fine. I think this is the reason, in addition to the painful breakup, that Eridan never pursues pale relationships, even though a moirail is what he desperately needs. Instead, he pursues the much more societally acceptible pitch quadrant, which can serve a similar purpose of discharging some of his pent-up aggression.

Moreover, his flirting isn't nearly as relentless as people think it is, although he IS both really stubborn AND really socially inept, which makes it difficult both to get a "no" through his brain, AND to make it stick. Another part of it is that he's operating at very little self-awareness, which means he'll often be doing something without consciously realizing it. Also, he's desperate as hell, and has basically no ability to differentiate good and bad attention. This leads to a pretty messy cocktail that basically means:

He'll hit on anyone at least once (desperation), with the exception of people it would be really weird to hit on, for example, their dancestors, who are way older than them.

If a rejection is not made excruciatingly clear, he probably won't register it as a rejection (dumbassery).

Nearly any attention he gets might be misinterpreted as flirting, even after a rejection is made (desperation, also, can't differentiate between good and bad attention).

Even after a rejection is made and he logically understands it and outright says he respects it, he might still act in a flirtatious way unconsciously (zero self awareness).

Because he will hit on anyone at least once, and is constantly making things weird and leaping to "romance?" even when there's no flirtatious intent, people kind of assume he's always hitting on them, even when he isn't.

His emotions always running at a fever pitch, and the lack of self-awareness he cultivates in order to help deal with his horrible cognitive dissonance, mean that even HE'S not sure about his real feelings. He's always feeling SOMETHING very, very intensely (it's the trauma and anxiety), which he mistakes for true caliginous hatred, or fevered flushed intent. Unlike Cronus, who's basically just trying to get some action, Eridan genuinely feels something for people, and his extreme lack of emotional intelligence means he has no idea how to parse his own tempestuous emotions. He always leaps to feverish concupiscent attraction because that's just how intense his emotions run at any given moment.

#4 is happening to Feferi and Sollux, IMO, while Rose never properly rejected him, so he still thinks they have a chance, and the same happened with Vriska when she started ghosting him post-kismesistude. #5 can be seen in his last memo with Karkat, where Karkat starts to wonder if past!Eridan was redflirting with him by inviting him to LOWAA, even as Eridan himself has no idea what the fuck Karkat is talking about.

Thing is, he DOES actually accept rejections once he gets them through his thick skull, which sets him apart from Cronus, who gets rejected, knows it, and keeps going. It's just... Eridan's messy. His emotions are all over the place, and too big for his stupid body, so he's always making things weird and intense.

I blame his lusus, personally. In a previous post, I talk about how a huge factor in his inability to identify negative attention is because he's basically being emotionally neglected. This has also led to his desperation for attention in general. When combined with the trauma from all the murdering and the pressure society puts on him to fit into a certain mold, it leads to some pretty explosive emotional ourbursts, of which his intense, insistent, and downright uncomfortable flirting is a major facet, but also, only a facet.

#eridan ampora #homestuck

[cat3ch1sm]

⚰️~ hello, everyone! the Valentine’s Day posting spree resumes. i hope you’re all enjoying it so far. we continue with these death note headcanons- so enjoy! <33

also ik it’s not v-day anymore but expect me to post for all the fandoms because i want yall to be fed. accept it🤨

gn!reader (although reader is called “pretty” in mello’s), slight nsfw

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡 <𝟑

ft. light, l, older!near, mello, matt, misa, mikami

'*•.¸♡ 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ♡¸.•*'

he notices your face flush right off, even though you try to hide it. light’s actually noticed it a couple of times-even when he gives you the smallest compliment, your cheeks turn pink.

“you really fluster easily… don’t you?”

light honestly thinks it’s endearing. and while he’s subtle about it, he enjoys flustering you whenever he can just to see your face turn that adorable shade of red.

˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ 𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐭˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

l also instantly catches it when your cheeks heat up. he knows it’s a pretty normal reaction when anyone gets a flattering compliment, but for some reason with you, l relishes in it a lot more. he’ll purposely compliment you again just to see you blush a second time.

“there’s that blush again… is it really that easy to fluster you, y/n?”

and of course, you just get embarrassed all over again.

·˚ ◌༘₊· ͟͞꒰➳ 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫

tilts his head in confusion when he sees you trying to cover up your face after he gives you a compliment. soon, though, near grasps what’s actually happening. he thinks it’s actually really cute, and will force your hands away from your face so he can get a good look at you.

“there’s no need to be shy, y/n- let me see your face.”

●∘◦❀◦∘● 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 ●∘◦❀◦∘●

will absolutely jump all over it and tease you relentlessly. he will lean in really close and take your wrists in both his hands to keep you from hiding your face. mello just enjoys knowing that he alone can make you get all shy and red-faced, and he’ll do it as much as possible just to watch you squirm about.

“hm? are you blushing, y/n? well, don’t bother hiding it, pretty- i wanna see your adorable face when you’re all flustered like this.”

◆:*:◇:*: 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 ◆:*:◇:*:◆

like mello, he’ll also jump all over it- he adores seeing how nervous you get around him when he compliments you. and when he touches you, you become even more of a mess- so he’ll do both things as much as possible relentlessly to see the expression on your face.

“aw… you’re totally blushing right now! don’t worry, sweetheart, it’s cute.”

⁺˚*･༓☾𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐚‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

thinks you look so, so adorable when you’re all shy. misa will be genuinely confused as to why you’re trying to hide your face and move your hands so she can see you. expect lots of butterfly kisses all over your flushed cheeks because she simply cannot get over you.

“wow, did i really fluster you that much? you look so cute like this!”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢 *ੈ✩‧₊˚

can’t stop looking at you and the way your hands come up to cover your flushed face. mikami thinks you look so enchanting like this, sort of like a fairy. at the same time, he loves flattering you with extra sappy compliments so he can see the precious way color floods your cheeks.

“oh, darling- how i love to watch you squirm about like this. you’re so lovely when you blush.”

#anime #death note headcanons #light yagami x reader #light yagami x you #l x reader #death note imagines #dn imagines #mello x reader #near x reader #matt death note #misa x reader #misa amane x you #light x you #you x light #you x light yagami #reader x near #you x near #near x you #mello x you #nate rivers x reader #mihael keehl #death note memes #death note smut #mihael keehl x reader #you x mello #l lawliet x you #Ryuzaki x reader #you x Ryuzaki

[dokidokitsuna]

Slowly, I think I’m getting a handle on this…I tried studying the character art from my favorite dead MMORPG, Maple Story 2, and I think it helped me find a style for the shading and rendering that’s more dramatic but still sort of cartoony.

Plus, I’ve been doing a bit of script writing, which always helps me figure things out. ^^ So please enjoy the additional work I’ve done on these character concepts.

-Between these two, Magolor definitely needed the most work: you can tell because I basically drew a full character design sheet, which is something I almost never do because I don’t like repetition. XP But it doesn’t feel repetitive when I’m totally lost to begin with. ^^; I think I got a little too abstract that first time I drew him, so my focus here was to figure out the specific shape of his body and rebuild outward from there. In stark contrast to my usual Magolor designs, he’s very tall and muscular, with an imposing silhouette (especially with his cape on). Yes, he IS hiding something under all those purple bandages, but we won’t talk about it today. ;)

-I also like that his outfit gets darker the further inside you go, from the solid white cape and glittering chains, to the silver armor and gray scarves, to the skintight navy blue fit underneath. Symbolism??? Perhaps~

-Blade’s design was already pretty solid, so I just adjusted her cape a little, and then dove straight into the Rainbow Malady concept art. ^^ Phase 1 has her sprout a second eye and wings on one side of her face. Her head catches fire, as the power of the Rainbow Sword attempts to ‘burn away the darkness’. In this phase, Blade is already in a lot of pain, but remains fully conscious and can even speak, when she isn’t coughing up multicolored blood. She can recover from this on her own with a day of rest. Phase 2 is much more serious, forcing her organs outside of her body, and growing star-shaped welts over the rest of her skin. At this point, she can no longer recover without Magolor’s help-- essentially, he uses magic to shove all her organs back where they belong and stitch up the open wounds. It’s like setting a bone after it’s broken-- just as painful as the injury itself (if not more), but necessary for proper healing…which takes about a week.  Phase 3 is the last and worst, transforming her arms into elongated wings and her whole body into burning plasma, on top of all the issues from Phase 2. Thankfully, she can’t really remain conscious in this phase-- she’s usually delirious from fever, blood loss, and her brain literally burning away. ^^; Storywise, she needs about a month to recover from this, so she doesn’t use it too often…of course, as the 'player', you can put her through it as many times as you want. =T

-Fun fact, I guess: So the primary love language between these two characters is food. ^^ I was musing about what I could do with a protagonist arc centered around worsening illness (which is…surprisingly rare), and I thought, “so what do you do for sick people? You put them to bed, you manage their symptoms, you clean and comfort them…and most importantly, you feed them.” And then ^that little doodle basically came to me in a dream, and from there evolved the idea of Magolor showing kindness to Blade by cooking for her.

Most of the time, the little affection Magolor shows to Blade is…basically performative. Think of it like a hammy supervillain petting their cat-- it’s more of a character stim than anything else. ^^; The way Magolor talks to Blade (and especially the way he talks about her…) makes it clear that the hand-holding and headpats don’t mean much.

But on the other hand, giving Blade food and watching her cutely devour it, especially during the times when she’s bed-ridden and he doesn’t see her as often…I like to think that might genuinely endear her to him a little, enough to make it a sort of stand-out gesture. Like, if he strokes her forehead when she’s sick, that’s whatever; but when he spends 5 hours making a Maxim tomato consommé for her to eat, that’s him trying to say he cares. Maybe it’s just a tiny bit, maybe it’s just in that moment, but a small part of him truly wants her to be happy.

#i think the brain worms are gonna stop now that I’ve finally gotten this out #maybe I’ll try doodling some of the boss characters later on #kirby #gijinka #au #BLADE_Princess #magolor #dark matter swordsman

[bougiebutchbitch]

MORE HORRID IDEAS :3c

What if Batman and Joker had a cheeky clandestine cat-and-mouse romantic thing going on..... back in the old days? When Joker was genuinely fun? When he was a goofy, mostly-harmless dork of a criminal who put on these big shows just to rob a bank, but rarely actually hurt anyone?

Before the first time he killed a guy in cold blood, and Batman (furious, heartbroken) dumped him in Arkham?

Cue the following decade of revolving-door stays, a whole lot of grotesque medical abuse, and Joker making the conscious decision to get worse. Joker goes off-the-rails murderous. He decides that if the world is always laughing at him, he'll laugh at it harder, while painting his name on Gotham in blood.

Then Batman gets a new birdie. Gives him alllllll his attention.

So - well, he's got to go, doesn't he? And sure, Batsy will never forgive him. But Batsy hasn't been able to forgive him in a very long time. Won't it be fun, to see how far Joker can push him? To test if Batman, for all his posturing and punches, will still love him after?

Spoilers: he does. And he hates himself for it.

Just... "Darling", with a hint of you hunted me down and kissed me on the rooftops, once, but now the thought of my mouth on yours makes you wanna vomit

A growl of "Joker", laced with I still dream about the heat of your skin, but you're so far gone, even if you came back I still couldn't have you

A relationship shaded black and purple and green like a day-old bruise, the sort that gets worse before it'll ever get better.

In short: What if they were divorced before they even began, but still dangerously, desparately obsessed with each other

#batjokes #batman #joker #bruce wayne #batman x joker #joker x batman #the joker #my fic #bbb creates #teehee