#not an original thought more like a daily reminder

[spicycinnabun]

“Steve, something is wrong with Christofern!” Eddie entered Steve’s room, cradling the potted plant in his arms.

He’d come home after work, ready to greet his bud-dy, but one look at him had made Eddie gasp. His leaves were shriveled up like sad little green raisins. Usually, they were puffed up like oversized Rice Krispies.

Christofern had been Robin’s, originally. It had been in a very sorry state on her windowsill before she’d left for college—a lot worse than it looked now, under Eddie’s care, thank you—and she’d told him, “I honestly can’t stand the thing. You keep it. It sheds worse than my aunt’s Great Pyrenees, and I’m tired of vacuuming. Just don’t throw it out, or Steve might murder you.”

And that had been that.

Christofern didn’t look like a typical house plant. He wasn’t a fern, which Steve kept reminding him. Steve was more practical. He didn’t give his plants names but called them by their designated labels.

Christofern was a Donkey’s Tail, or sedum morganianum, part of the succulent family. That term meant absolutely nothing to Eddie unless it was referring to a big bowl of pasta—he had no idea there was a whole plant category called delicious.

“But maybe he wants to be a fern, Steven,” he’d argued. “Ever thought of that? He doesn’t have to be a succulent just because he was assigned so at birth.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” had been Steve’s reply.

At first, Eddie had enlisted Steve’s help purely because he’d wanted his attention, and talking about plants was an easy as hell way to get Steve’s attention. Steve was a very passionate plant dad. But later, Eddie grew to love Christofern, and the trials and tribulations of learning how to care for him were almost like raising his own child.

Christofern had not just one but seven long, thickly spiked green tails. Seven tails. He reminded Eddie of a mutated dragon. He was adorable but occasionally grumpy and high-maintenance, like a certain someone Eddie knew. (Perhaps Christofern was more of a prince than a dragon—a dragon prince?)

If he didn’t get enough sunlight, his leaves shed, and he wilted. If he wasn’t rotated daily, he got yellow and sunburnt. And if he didn’t get enough water…

“I swear I watered him... uh, recently.” When had Eddie last watered him? Not the day before, but maybe Wednesday? Or had it been Tuesday? Shit. Eddie pouted. “I just gave him a drink now, anyway. It’s not too late, is it, Doctor Steve?”

He clasped his hands and watched Steve’s attentive eyes rove over his plant, waiting for the diagnosis.

“Eddie, how could you neglect Christofern like this? I should call Plant Protective Services.” Steve grabbed his hand, startling Eddie and his overactive heartbeat.

He took Eddie’s index finger and pushed it into Christofern’s soil right down to his second knuckle. It felt inappropriate. Eddie made a noise, appalled. “Steven, why are you making me violate Christofern?”

Steve ignored him. “What do you feel? The soil is soaked down there, isn’t it?”

Eddie wiggled his finger. It felt goopy. “Yes,” he admitted.

“You’ve overwatered it,” Steve chastised. “Now, the leaves might rot instead of rehydrating themselves. You’ve got to make sure you don’t drown it. Christofern only needs a moderate amount of water every two weeks, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie said meekly. “I’m sorry, Christofern.”

Steve pulled his finger out of the soil and gave him a look bordering on amusement. “Leave him with me for a few days, and I’ll get him back to where he should be.”

“Thank you, Doctor Steve. How can I ever repay you?” Eddie imagined repaying Steve with his mouth, his tongue, his hands (after he washed the soil off)…

“You can clean the bathroom,” Steve said.

Eddie’s fantasy shattered. He whined. “Does it have to be that?”

“Yup.”

“Damn it, Steve, just make me suck your dick next time,” Eddie grumbled on his way out.

He missed the way Steve’s jaw dropped.

#fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie au #roommate au #steddie fic #plant dad steve harrington #crack fic #christofern is their love fern #eddie won’t let it die #🪴

[urdinosaurs]

ok ok, so the idea for the hobbie... how about the reader having toxic friends who, when they meet hobbie, say he's "too much" for her? so, she would be super insecure, maybe they'd break up without explaining because of their pressure, but you know how hobbie is, she doesn't give him options other than him solving things the "hobbie way"

this happened to a friend of mine in the past, she was told that her boyfriend was "too cool" or that she was getting in his way, and I can't stop thinking how the hobbie would handle it

no need to write about it, it's just an idea... Oh, and could you add me to your hobbie taglist?? I would love to be able to follow then

╰┈➤ ❝ 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑 ❞ | 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

PROMPT: when your friends you've known for years decide to get together for the first time in months, they meet your boyfriend, hobie brown. the five of them are stunned when they first lay eyes on him, appearing polite, but when he leaves you’re bombarded with "advice" that starts the downward spiral of your and hobie's relationship. he however, won't let that happen.

WARNINGS: afab reader, angst, feelings of inadequacy, some british slang: adam and eve - believe, toxic friends, manipulative friends, insecurity, self consciousness, self hate, 3k wc

A/N: since we talked about this in pm you already know that i made changes to the original request. my god it took 3 weeks to write and even then i barely got it done on time. i kind of hate this but wtv i have to post it at this point

it's been eating at you for weeks. constantly your friend's words churn over in your head when you hang around hobie. you hide it. at least you try to keep your uneasiness at bay and push it to the back of your mind whenever he wraps an arm around your shoulder in public, or people's heads turn as you walk past. but it's maddening to have their words play in a vicious cycle, reminding you of what you'll never be for him, good enough.

last week, you took time off work to visit your friends who had made plans to see you. because of your jobs, you were spread across town, your daily lives separate from one another, which meant finding time together was a rare blessing. it was going well until hobie came to pick you up, and that's when it started. the side glances, the questioning looks they shot you, were unavoidable and only amplified when he came up to greet them.

each of them took him in, offering a polite greeting, their eyes narrowing when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and quickly kissed your forehead, saying he'd meet you in the car. when he was out of earshot, they turned to you.

"that's your boyfriend?"

"you didn't tell us you were dating someone like him."

"i didn't think someone who looked so… you know… interesting and uh… attractive would date you. no offense, of course!"

"well, it's just that your, you."

condescending, judgmental, disdainful; that's all you heard. even after trying to laugh it off, saying that you got lucky, it didn't end there.

"he's just so much cooler than you."

he really was. hobie brown was so much better than you deserved, flawless in his looks, smug and assured without being overconfident, secure in himself but not narcissistic. he was perfect, so much so that you had a hard time believing he was real. thus it shouldn't have shaken you as it did when those words took root in your consciousness, sprouting and branching out into further uncertainty, spreading and infesting your mind until you end up where you are now. a tangled mess of doubt, trapped in a cycle of self-pity and blame.

those thoughts spiral over the next couple of weeks, to the point where even hobie has taken notice and pulled you aside time and time again to ask what was the matter. you find that lying to him has gotten easier, despite him managing to see right through you and the facade you hide behind. instead, he's taken up on coaxing you into the truth by offering more physical reassurance. his arms linger around you more, checking up on you with little brushes of his hand across your back, letting his kisses last longer, all of this while initiating these tender gestures.

it's a more than thoughtful expression, nearly bringing you to tears most nights when he whispers words of reassurance into your ear like you deserve to be held so tenderly.

in those moments, the self-deprecating thoughts become too much, and you feel yourself slowly slipping away from him, detaching, only clinging to the love you think you deserve.

you wish you could say that your thoughts were the only cause, but the more you saw your friends, the more their comments about your relationship would wear you down. sleep evades you most nights, caught up wondering about the future of your rapidly deteriorating relationship with hobie, so really, it should be no surprise when you come to the conclusion one night that you should break up.

by no stretch of the imagination do you want to, but it would be best for both of you, right? he could finally find someone who can give him all he deserves, the affection you lack, the love, the sex. someone who won't rely on the constant reassurance you seem to need, hold him back from his duty as spider-man, who's not a continual burden, a person that is, in all essence, everything you aren't. it's better this way. after wasting his time, he'll find someone he deserves. you're counting on it. besides, it's not like he would notice that you were gone or, more likely, care.

self-hatred fills your chest as you relive your relationship with hobie in your head, fueled by the new information and perspective that you were never going to mean what he meant to you. and that's precisely what you say in the note you leave on his kitchen counter before walking out the door, choking on your tears.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

hobie comes home that night to an empty apartment. it's quiet, too quiet for you to occupy it, and it's his first inkling that something's the matter. he calls out your name, peeking into various doorways curiously, hands shoved in his pockets. a minute passes and the crinkle between his eyebrows deepen as he spins aimlessly in place for any trace of you.

his senses prickle, pace stuttering when he feels something is amiss. hobie's observational stare flits around the room, taking care to search for disturbances, taking note of his untouched mess before his spine straightens, and it's then he realizes all your stuff is gone. the bra lying on the back of the couch is nowhere to be found, your small bag of belongings is missing from its corner in his room, and the jacket you claimed for yourself is hanging in his closet. it's his second indication that something isn't right.

hobie's lips purse into a frown, warning bells ringing in his mind as he peers back into his room and confirms that all your things are missing. dread pools in his stomach, and he's more frantic now, scouring for any trace of you, when he stumbles upon the note sitting on the kitchen counter. it's his third and final sign, and his fingers crumple the paper as he swipes it off the counter, his breath catching in his chest at the first two words.

i'm sorry.

he reads it and can almost imagine your voice reading it to him in the low timber you use when remorseful or insecure. it doesn't help that the more he reads, the more panic rises from the depths of his stomach, his face falling when your friends are mentioned. the alarm gripping him like a vice dissipates into raw, unbridled anger.

it becomes too much listening to you degrade yourself like this that he slams the writing down, his hand running over his face while stepping back. he paces in a circle, glaring at the sheet of paper, before snatching it again in a fury. by the end of the note, where you sign your name with an 'i love you,' a deep ache has furrowed its way into his chest that doesn't subside those coming seconds after reading.

he sets the letter down, his elbows resting on the counter as his head falls into his hands. he's conflicted, frustration clouding his thoughts at your friends, at how you let them get to you in such a way that could ruin the one good thing he's ever had. the other is mournful, deeply pained by the fact you believe such things about yourself when all he's ever shown you is how much you matter.

he picks up the message once more, examining the front and back, skimming the page, a deep frown edged into his lips. peering aimlessly, the reasons for your behavior over the past week begin to connect, and he curses himself when he realizes this, groaning as he slumps further against the counter. how had he not seen it? the way you would come home silently after being out with your friends, like your mere presence was an insult to him, taking as little space as possible, secluding yourself, and apologizing more. his blood boils as it all comes together.

he stares at his hands, which have unconsciously curled into a fist, and flexes his fingers. "fuck," he mumbles, breathing heavily. there's no way he's letting your relationship end, not like this. you still love him, that much is clear, and if you're going to let some narcissistic, pretentious twits ruin what you had, then he'll just have to change your mind. he's out of the apartment before he can think it through.

easier said than done, apparently, because he's been swinging around the city for the past half an hour. he has checked every place he can think of, from your apartment to your favorite hangout spots and food places. he's even visited your old bedroom at your parent's residence. there's nowhere else to be. he doubts you would leave town with your livelihood here. hotels are expensive, and you wouldn't have the money to sustain yourself at one for long unless, of course, you're staying the night with friends.

oh.

a fresh swell of resentment pulses through him, not at you, but that you would stay with those people and let them feed into the delusions they've created. moving swiftly, he hurries across buildings, emotional in every sense, flying through the city without care. it festers on his way there, and he's practically suffocating in it as he drops down in front of the place, pushing his hands into his pockets. with his enhanced senses, he can hear pockets of information leaking out, and he slows his steps, careful not to make noise. he strains his ears, picking up the low murmur of voices, yours among them. it's almost pathetic how his heart flutters at the sound of your voice but quickly drops when he starts piecing the conversation together.

"aww, don't cry. it's better this way." one of the girls coos, the faux sympathy in her voice grating on his ears.

"he's just too much for you. i'm sure you'll find someone better suited to you."

"yeah, hobie will find someone he deserves." he stands at the doorstep, speechless, your sniffles breaking his heart.

"you just weren't meant to be."

hobie's fist pounds at the door, hatred roaring so intensely he has to stifle it in an indifferent guise. who were they to assume such things about him? what kind of audacity must they possess to pray on your insecurities? he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hiding his bared teeth behind disregard.

the conversation falls to a hush inside, slow footsteps treading their way to the door, a girl poking her head out. she's shocked by his appearance but quickly recovers by batting her eyelashes, looking at him up and down with an expression he's seen all too often, desire. hobie feels sick, so disgusted he clenches his fist, holding it to his side before it can collide with her face.

"where is she?" he doesn't bother with pleasantries, his gruff voice impatient, desperation underlining his words. she's clever, though, picking up on it as she bristles, trying to appear annoyed by his appearance.

"you know, you really shouldn't be here." her voice is whinier than he remembers. "not when you're the one who caused this."

"me? com' aut' of it now. it's you who caused this," hobie scoffs, scowling, leaning against the door frame. "now, i'm no' goin' to ask again. where is she?"

"you have a lot of nerve playing with her feelings like this when you can obviously do better." she taps a manicured hand over her crossed arms, raising an accusing eyebrow.

"an' you have a lot of fuckin' nerve assumin' shit abou' me when you don't know a damn thing," he spits aggressively, his face hardened and his eyes narrowing into slits. hobie's getting ready to barge in, attack her with insults to get you in his arms again, when he hears your sweet voice calling across the house.

"is everything ok?"

shoving past her, his thick boots vibrate across the floor, directed solely by his spider senses when he sees you for the first time since the breakup.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

your throat is uncomfortably tight with the previous tears you shed, gaping at hobie, whose disheveled appearance curls your lips into a frown. you're extended in the moment, caught in each other's gaze in a way that blurs your mind. your friends look between you two, the one who answered the door, setting a hand on his shoulder, nudging him toward it.

"it's time for you to leave." she gives you a remorseful pout, fingers digging into the bare skin of his shoulder to get him to leave. the pressure snaps him out of his daze, and he jerks his arm out of her grip, surging towards you. with just a step back, he pauses in his stead, his face contorting into one of betrayal, and your heart sinks.

"we need to talk." you can't help but think of how out of place he looks here, in the normalcy of abby's rented home.

"there's nothing to talk about."

"please," he implores desperately, eyes begging you to agree. you're trying to figure out his motive when you swallow your reservations and follow him out the door, your head tucked at your friend's disappointment. the cold air bites your skin, and you shiver as hobie shuts the door behind you.

his head jerks to one of the tallest buildings, the one he's brought you to before in question. you know what he means after so long of being with him. he wants a private spot, really the only place you can get privacy in this city, and you look back at the dwelling. hobie seems to read your mind, gently pulling your hand forward, a silent message to trust him, and you can't help yourself by doing exactly that.

hobie swings to the top of the building, setting you down next to the ledge. the breeze is fierce up here, your short sleeves unable to fight the goosebumps rising to your skin. looking out across the city and pulling your arms in to maintain the heat, you can almost forget about tonight just by watching the dazzling array of lights. that is until you feel warm leather draped over your shoulder, and you're suddenly pulled back into the present.

he takes a step back, avoiding you peering quizzically at him, turning his attention to the same lights he can't seem to find the same beauty in as you. clearing his throat, he sits down at the edge, inviting you to do the same, his face hopeful. you sit, leaving enough of a gap to steal the intimacy of the situation from the air.

"this isn't how a break up is supposed to work," you murmur, picking at the corners of your nails, avoiding his vision exploring the emotions you suppressed rising to the surface.

he scoffs, throwing his head back. "wasn" much ov a break up, more than you jus' leaving, luv."

your breathing hitches, and the guilt eating away at you worsens, hating how you can't even stand by your decision.

"an' by the way, wha' the hell was that note?" his nostrils flare, and you shrink further into yourself, pulling his jacket closer. "letting those pieces of shit you call friends talk to you like 'at. having 'em ruin our relationship."

"they didn't," you murmur lightly, your throat thick with emotion. "i did. they just told me the truth."

"the truth?" he clenches his fists so hard that his nails cut into his skin, downright appalled. his mind races faster than he can make sense of. "'that's wha' you adam and eve 'his is?"

your silence speaks louder than words, and his scoff rings in your ears, his head shaking in disbelief.

"what are you doing here, hobie?" you whisper, looking away. "why can't you stop using me?"

"using you?!" hobie's head swivels around, his breathing shallow and face contorting in outrage. "your friends 'ave you more fucked in the head than i thought if you seriously believe that shit."

"but they're right, hobie!" the words burst out of your mouth before you can stop them, whipping your head around to face him. "all you do is pretend to care even though you know you can do better!"

"shut up," hobie's lips curl in fury, pinching your chin to make you look at him. "shut the hell up with the self-deprecating bullshit they've manipulated you to think."

"why do you keep denying it?" your desperate voice shakes with emotion, now on the verge of tears. "i've come to terms with it. we just– we weren't meant for each other, hobie. why can't you understand that?!"

sniffling, you break away from his lax grip, holding the water building behind your eyes at bay as you try to compose yourself. hobie's stunned, words evading his skillful tongue by your confession. his chest is uncomfortably tight as seconds pass, the wind carrying the sounds of cars and late-night street life from below.

"i don't," he states firmly, clenching his jaw. "i've never 'hough' 'at way or given any indication i did. it doesn'' make sense when i know wha' i want."

you swallow, reaching through your struggle to put your intentions into words. "all i want is for you to be with someone who can give you everything."

"but i don't want everything. i want you."

time slows down to reveal the flawless details of hobie's pretty, dark skin framed by the city's lights encompassing the two of you. for a moment, you pause, blood pounding in your ears. registering his words takes longer than you would like to admit, but the tears have already started falling, and hobie's enveloped you in his arms tightly before you can blink them away. he sways, his embrace suffocating, and it's all you need to cry into his shirt. desperately and utterly, you sob, each pent-up emotion spilling out in waves of crying. he holds you through all of them, his gentle but deep voice rumbling in your ear all the while.

"i'm sorry." you cry in his shirt, the fabric muffling your voice. "i'm sorry to make you do this."

he shushes you in an instant, his lilting cockney accent soothing. "don't do that."

"i don't deserve you." the hoarseness in your quivering tone does not go unnoticed as you sink deeper into his embrace. he holds you close to his chest, tapping your thigh to encourage you to move onto his lap, which you do, your face still tucked into the crook of his neck.

"hey…hey, look at me 'ere sweet'eart." hobie taps your jaw, and when your head moves, he ushers your chin up gently. "none of that nonsense, alright?"

he waits for some kind of acknowledgement, nudging your chin. "alright?" a nod is all you can give, swallowing back the tears that prick your eyes.

"listen 'ere, luv. their opinions mean jack shit, got it? they don'' have a clue 'bout us. just a bunch of presumptuous asses, right?"

you turn your head down, lip caught between your teeth debatingly.

"but–"

"no buts. those cunts think they know everything, and that's where they get ya. only you're better than 'em, huh? we don't conform to other people's elitist beliefs, isn't that right?"

you chuckle lightly, sniffling while the weight on your shoulders you've been carrying for weeks begins to lift.

"i wanna hear you say it, sweetheart. their opinions mean jack shit." he reaffirms.

taking a deep breath, the anguish that's been wearing away at you, the insecurity and doubts flicker like a dying flame, and releasing the breath extinguishes it in seconds. "their opinions mean jack shit."

"there's, my girl!" hobie exclaims, and he pulls you into his side for a hug, which you quickly reciprocate. "i knew you 'ad it in you. you're perfect, ya know that? absolutely perfect in every way possible, luv. though ya do need be''er friends."

laughing, you wipe away any lingering tears, settling into his hold with an agreeing hum.

"does 'at mean you're mine again?" he whispers into your hair, and when you nod in agreement, your chin still tucked into his chest, his pierced lips pulling into an ear-splitting grin you recognize as boyish.

"that's wha' i like to hear."

TAGLIST: @alicefallsintotherabbithole

#🦕 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝓁𝓎𝓁𝒶 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓈 #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie x you #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown atsv #spiderpunk #hobie brown x you #hobie across the spiderverse #urdinosaurs spider verse

[themuselesswriter]

Alastor Headcanons

Early years

Alastor was an awkward kid who had hard time making friends, he was a center of school bullying

His father worked in the military line, he was extremely strict and abusive towards him and his mother, he disliked Alastor's behavior so he made him his daily target

Alastor was a mama's boy, she taught him to be creative and imaginative, she taught him to be kind and showed him how to have good manners

He often got hit by his father because he was trying to protect his mother

When Alastor was 17, his father got into a heated argument with his mother, he was almost going to kill her but Alastor stepped in, protected his mother and killed his father in the process

He had a mental breakdown and it broke him completely, his mother packed him a bag and told him to leave their little town and never come back

He used the funds and what his father left him to get himself into a good college, he originally planned on studying biology but he always found interest in multimedia, theater, journalism and such

He met his very first girlfriend, Jenny, on his second year at the university ( Jenny headcanons here) and he fell in love so hard, to the point that he poured his heart out for her and let his guards down, she knew everything there's to know about him, she helped him and supported him, made him move on from everything he's been through, she encouraged him to pursue a career as a radio host

After her murder, he tracked down her murderer and made sure to avenge her death in the most gruesome way by killing everyone they loved and leaving them to be the last

He moved on to another city and started a fresh

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

Marriage

He met his wife at a book store, they were both reaching out for the same book so he decided to let her have it on the condition that she gives it to him once she's done

She was beautiful, had some characteristics that reminded him of both of his mother and his beautiful, spontaneous, carefree Jenny, which made her the perfect partner for him

He fell in love with what she represented more than her at the beginning, afterwards, he proposed, and their marriage went by smoothly

He never told her of his past, although she knew he loved his mother and that he used to be close with her, hearing about her death devastated him, especially since his mother requested he doesn't visit her on her death bed to protect him

He never told her of his sexuality, that he was asexual, but she noticed something was wrong, that's why she never insisted on any sexual advances

Alastor always sheltered his wife and only showed her his good side, in his head, if he showed her how much of a monster he was, she would get hurt, just like his mother, just like his Jenny

She learned about his murders when one day, he returned home very late, she was crying because she thought he was killed but he was exhausted and he just burst that he was the murderer

She tired to live a normal life but then, they gave up and decided to move to a secluded area in the woods, he was taking a walk after a fight with his wife in the woods to calm down and that's where he was shot, mistaken for a deer

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

Hell Days

Vox was his very personal fanboy, he was swooning over him, but Alastor was clueless, he barely navigated women, let alone men, so when Vox asked him to join him, he thought he meant in the Vees tower, he declined respectfully, not knowing that Vox was really asking him out

He first met Rosie when he arrived at hell and everyone was dismissing him, he bumped into him and he was still processing everything, hating his looks, missing his mother, Jenny and his wife, she felt bad for him and she helped him navigate hell, and ever since, they've been best friends, she noticed him as a nervous, awkward guy who can easily feel uncomfortable so she did her best to understand his ticks and make him feel as comfortable as possible

He hates feeling inferior and dismissed as it was something people usually did back when he was alive, that's why he had to be the star of every show, the most powerful, the smartest, the funniest, the most helpful, he had to have everyone's attention and admiration or else he feels threatened and unseen

He fought against Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb a few times but he never killed them because they validated him and didn't disregard him, he saw them as worthy opponents, therefore, their battles were built on mutual respect even if they wouldn't say the exact words to each other

He thinks of Nifty as a friendly companion rather than a soul he owns because she doesn't judge his crazy but indulges it, he respects Husk as a soul that he owns but Husk questions him, so their dynamic is complicated

(more to be added)

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #radio demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor altruist #alastor x foc #alastor x oc #alastor x y/n #alastor x vox #alastor x jenny #museless headcanons #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #alastor headcanons #headcanons #hazbin #hazbin hotel #happy hotel

[tia-222]

Enter the void using theta waves

Link to the original post ( credits owolivia )

" But, since the void state is NOTHINGNESS it is not the symptoms. Many times people obsess over the symptoms they feel, whether they feel floaty, dizzy, or whatever else. This just leads to you being overly aware of your physical body and more than likely not entering the void. So, I personally ignore any symptoms and just continue to affirm until I’m in the void. Sometimes, I don’t even affirm, I just intend to go to the void and my awareness goes there. Let me tell you, it’s literally nothingness. It’s pitch black. You don’t feel or see anything, you just are. Literally, you’re just awareness. The first few times I entered the void state, I actually thought I had fallen asleep, only to realize I’d actually been there. So, you’ll know once you’re there; and you won’t have symptoms in the void. Remember, symptoms are just an indicator letting you know you’re correctly entering the void and a reminder to continue doing what you’re doing till you’re in the void state. Basically, when you’re in the void state, you’ll feel completely relaxed and at ease. Nothing will be in your way, you’re surrounded by pure nothingness. Just relax and affirm, your desires will manifest instantly in this state. "

" How I Personally Enter the Void : "

" Before I knew about shifting and manifesting I used the void state for relaxation (of course, I didn’t know I was at that time). Now I use it for shifting and manifesting since it’s relaxing to me. I use theta waves personally to induce relaxation, I’ll link my favorite theta waves track, I use musi to listen to them and they are absolutely wonderful! Check out Catalyst University, as they make amazing brain wave meditation tracks, there are plenty for you to choose from if the one I like isn’t for you! :smile: Also, these are very safe and reputable! I’ve used the tracks I’ve linked for 2 years and only had positive results! "

" Before I enter the void state, I typically take my nightly meds and take a nice bath (or shower). I don’t do anything fancy during my bath, I just listen to music and get cleaned up, then I dry off and get into bed. Again, until I’m ready to enter the void state, I don’t really do anything meditation wise or really affirmation wise (other than my daily affirmations), I just relax. I really just take some me time, I’ll watch some tv, maybe read something or play some video games, maybe script for fun, and get myself to a point where I’m slightly sleepy. Once I’m ready to get into the void state, I turn my TV off and make sure my room is completely dark. "

" I use theta waves (linked below) and play them using earbuds to induce a relaxed state for myself. I’ll get into a comfortable position that I don’t need to move from and begin to affirm or visualize I’m in the void state. Personally, I don’t focus on my breath at all that’s always made me anxious. I find that causes me to hyper focus on my physical body, so I focus on my heartbeat and my affirmations. Personally, I do feel like I’m floating/weightless when I’m entering the void state, but I ignore any symptoms I feel as they cause me to hyper focus on my physical body, so I’ll continue to affirm. Eventually (usually very quickly) I’ll end up in the void, I won’t hear the theta waves I played, see anything else, or feel anything, I’m just awareness, so I’ll affirm it sometimes even visualize, then when im ready, I’ll affirm to come back to either my CR or my DR. I tend to make it pretty simple and easy, keeping the whole process relaxed fo myself! "

Theta waves :

Pure theta waves Meditation

Binaural beat - theta wave

Hemi - sync theta waves

6Hz theta wave frequency

8D theta waves

#void state #void state tips #the void state #manifestion #void thoughts #neville goddard #void state methods #law of assumption #void state success story #void concept #i am state #loas Tumblr #theta state #theta state method to enter the void state

[1-danid]

Dating Teen Vi

Dating Arc 1 Vi would include..

Vander loving you as another kid. You may have your own patents but he still sees you as one of his children. Meaning he gives Vi the talk instead of you because he feels she'll need it more.

Teen Vi is 100% shy when it comes to PDA. She will hold your hand in public but that's about it. On the rare occasion when she's a bit jealous she may give your check or lip a kiss but it's rare.

When it's just the two of you or 3 of you powder can see her soft side. She'd go all out and be attacking your face with kisses and love.

At this stage you guys wouldn't know your love language so expect a bit of everything at this stage as you're trying it all out for the first time.

I don't think she can cook, no one in that band can. So often you'd cook meals for the group and bake treats for her and Powder.

If you go on the "jobs" with the group, Vi would be protective of you. Yeah she knows you can kickass but she doesn't want to lose you or to get you hurt.

Also Mylo would be annoying cause she'd stop for a sec to admire your beauty and he'd be like

" I could do better than that. She's just showing off at this point."

You'd flip him off whilst flipping to another building. And when you get to wherever you are going to rob she'd let you take personal things for yourself and not to sell. Honestly she wouldn't care what you do she'd just watch you for a minute with a love sick smile on her face.

The others would 100% tease her about it. And she's blushing a bit and playing it off. They'd believe for the first few times until it becomes a daily routine.

She'd get you little gifts when you don't do jobs together and surprise you with them

If you don't go on jobs with the group you'd originally babysit Powder. Keeping her distracted and happy while the others are out risking your lives.

You weren't a fighter so you never asked to go to jobs. However you did learn how to treat basic ailments to help Vi and Claggor when they got badly hurt.

 Vi would 100% get you little gifts from the jobs she does without you surprising you with them. She'd be like;

"We were out at this one house, and I saw something. It reminded me so much of you. It was perfect and beautiful so I thought you should have it."

And then she'll give you a beautiful necklace. Or something romantic that you appreciate because of your relationship.

You'd bake her cupcakes whenever she's had a hard day and you think she needs to relax. The two of you will just cuddle as you sing a soft song to her. For example, falling for you by peachy!

Because you're always baking her  sweet stuff and 'cause she loves your cake and cups she calls you…

CUPCAKE 

I'm not sorry for that. But on the note of pet name's teen Vi will call you anything to see you flustered.

 She just loves you so much and you love her too

She’s definitely the big spoon and powder loves you more than vi (you didn’t hear that from me)

Like she see Vi as her hero but she sees how Vi looks at you and see you as Vi hero

You’re literally the coolest kid in Vander’s house

Plus you can work the bar, you have a lot of free time, so you’re able to earn a little for shifts at the bar

When Vi leaves powder behind you’d both have a big cussing 100%

Like you know how scared and confused Powder is and refuse to go and help because Powder needs support as well

Powder (bless her) would 100% influence you and beg you to bring her to the fight

One look at her puppy dog eyes, and you would cave and bring her in once she promises to stay hidden

You’d bring her and miss all the signs and when the bomb goes off, you’re their trying to protect her

Vi slaps (I refuse to write the p word) both you and her sister

Cue another heated argument you’d slap her back and cuss her out for touching you and Powder

And you’d break up.

So pissed you tell her to “fucking go to hell Violet.”

And she pretty much does, you’d try your best to comfort powder

Trying to stay strong for her, yet you’d let a few tears fall at your newly broken heart, your loss of home and your loss of your friends

You don’t notice Silco and when you do you don’t trust him fully.

But you know you and Powder need a place to stay so when he accepts Powder’s hug, you lower your guard

Moreso when you see a familiar face, passed out Sevika eases your nerves

You never do find out what happened at the warehouse, but you do know you lost everyone except Powder

You wonder if you’d ever see Vi again as you take on the older sister responsibilities for Powder’s sake

A/N

I hope you enjoyed this. I feel its better than the version i posted last time. To old moots this is not a goodbye. THIS IS A REVAMP!!

TIL NEXT TIME MY LOVES

-Dani

#‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ dani writes ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿ #vi league of legends #vi arcane #arcane vi #arcane vi x reader #vi arcane x reader #vi x reader #vi x fem reader #arcane x female reader #vi masterlist

[gigidragonbbxxx]

The Dark Side of Loass + motivation

I was on my daily reddit scroll while sipping my morning coffee when I saw something extremely disgusting on my homepage.

It was a manifestation success story by a man who claimed to have manifested his "perfect" gf - the kicker? She's underaged and he is a fully grown man.

The post has been deleted but the original poster's account is still up, as is his comment history. In his comments he details how he essentially used SATS and shot a message to someone he saw in discord. Apparently she is 15, lives with him due to an abusive situation, and yes they are s******y active. Apparently he treats her very well (he even mentioned bringing her to school YUCK) and buys her a lot of stuff and she's happy.

Let me make this clear:

a girl in an abusive home situation is not "saved" by an adult man taking advantage of it in the guise of "improving" her life situation while subjecting her to doing physical things she cannot consent to because she is not a damn adult.

I did some digging and it was not very long until I saw his first-ever comment about it and it was worse than I thought. I was trying to give the benefit of the doubt like maybe he visualized for a perfect gf and he didn't know she was a minor. Well, that says more about me than anything bc yes I found out that he had specified that he wanted her underaged. He literally says in the comment "specifcs that could get me in trouble". He made a lot of comments about her body, etc. and quite literally said something along the lines of "I'm her savior and shes my obsessed loving gf". Keep in mind...one of the titles this man used (he posted twice in diff subreddits) was "I manifested a s** s****e". So. Yup. He's a whole p*do.

I will not be sharing links as I don't want to give that horrible man any more traction but if you read all that and said to yourself, but Gigi whats that got to do with the dark side of the law of assumption? and why would you say there's a dark side to it?

The truth is that the law isn't dark at all, the evil part of the law is the people who use it for evil.

This is why good things can happen to horrible people.

This is why you see villains win.

They may have an amazing self-concept OR they just are under the assumption that NO MATTER HOW HORRIBLE THEY ARE THEY GET WHAT THEY WANT EVEN IF ITS FUCKED UP AND MORALLY TWISTED.

It's why you see nepo babies who aren't talented get shit handed to them - THEY EXPECT IT BECAUSE OF WHAT? WHO. THEY. ARE. SO CHANGE YOUR INNER SELF. EMBODY THAT CONFIDENCE.

This is why I wanted to share that story with you, it is to motivate you: if you know you're a better person than that horrible man, WHY CAN'T YOU HAVE EVERYTHING YOU WANT TOO?

Shouldn't you deserve even more for being good?

Stop thinking you don't deserve things bc guess what? People who are genuinely criminals are out here manifesting - so stay on your zoom and FOCUS. SATURATE. DISCIPLINE. COMMIT.

and let's all collectively agree to pray for that girl. I'm honestly gonna affirm that she gets saved and ends up in a situation where she is protected, loved, and away from predators.

Do not let evil win. Use it to remind yourself that the law is about BELIEF not FEELING.

with a heavy heart, xx, gigi

#law of assumption #loass #loassblog #loassumption #manifestation #affirm and persist #affirmations #neville goddard #self concept #saturation #affirm #affirmdaily #affirmyourreality #affirmyourlife #master manifestor #manifesting #manifesting sp #gigiwrites

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

02/27/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast&Crew; SambaSchutte;VicoOrtiz;RhysDarby; Fan Spotlight; More Polls; Repo News; Rotton Tomatos; Watch Party Reminders; Articles; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

= Cast & Crew Sightings =

= Samba Schutte =

Samba posted so much BTS I couldn't fit it on one recap! I I posted some highlights, and you can see all the pictures + merstede video over here.

Obviously if you have instagram please visit Samba's IG Post/Stories

= Vico ortiz =

Vico decided to bless us with "Soft Boi" vibes today.

"💙💚✨Soft Boi✨💚💙 📸: @transnormativity"

Also, Vico is a member of the Public Assembly free theatre in South Pasadena California and "wrote something" for the next assembly! If you're in the area, consider checking it out, it's free!

= Rhys Darby =

Cameo - Reconnecting with Art / Writing!

The cameo today is about Reconnecting with Art / Writing! Thank you to the anonymous sharer who allowed us to partake in this lovely and inspiring cameo!

Cameo Src

== Fan Spotlight ==

Last couple days of February Love Collage Fest! @wndrngnomad even gave us a bonus for #TaikaTuesday! And that catches us up! Just two more days! Want to see the collages anytime, check them out in our Fan Spotlight Section on the repo!

Day 27: Season 1 Costumes

#TaikaTuesday

Day 13: Matthew Maher!

Day 14: February Love!

Day 15: Taika Waititi

PS: Lots more fan spotlights to come, today got away from me and I had a couple more people to check with.

== More Polls to Participate In =

Looks like Ranker is doing a pole on the best HBO Max shows! You can click the up arrow for OFMD, and the down arrow for other shows if you'd like as well to move the rankings around. Thanks @JackieNoses on twitter for recommending it!

== WATCH PARTY REMINDERS! ==

= People of Earth S2 =

People of Earth S2 continues tomorrow Feb 27 at 9 pm GMT / 4pm EST / 3pm CST / 1pm PST. Need access? Reach out to @iamadequate1!

#PiratesOfEarth

= Uncle Season 2 Watch Party! =

Wed 28th + Thurs 29th GMT - 8pm / ET - 3pm / PST - 12 pm Streaming on I-player! Outside the UK? Follow this VPN tutorial to learn more. 

#ForTheNewUncle

== Rotten Tomatoes! ==

Just wanted to give a huge shout out to everyone out there doing ratings! We finally made it to 1000+ ratings on Season 2 for Rotten Tomatoes! What an excellent job everyone!!!

== Repo News ==

I am putting this in the recap so that in case someone missed it on my blog I can still try to fix any damage that was done. This is the first para, but please read the whole thing here. "It has come to my attention that a google drive that was linked in my Repo contained art, gifs, images, videos etc that had not been shared with permission of the original artists. I want to sincerely apologize to anyone who this affected." The situation has been rectified, but please, if you were one of the folks affected, please reach out to me and I will see what I can do to help.

== Articles ==

10 Streaming Shows That Were Cancelled Too Soon

== Love Notes ==

Today I would like to take a moment to thank the folks who checked in on me or sent kind words today while I was having a rough time (whether you knew it or not). You all really amaze and humble me with all your kindness and caring. I wanna give a few shoutouts to some folks who kept me sane today @spirker @ofmd-ann @scorpiostarseed @xoxoemynn @catbells-and-summerlinens @brainfugk @hoshiforever @roximonoxide @aliragsandmuffins @melvisik if I missed anyone I promise it's not on purpose but because I am about 3 minutes away from passing out on this couch or I thought you wanted to remain anonymous.

Love Note: From DoodleGems--

You really do deserve to take up space. When you do, you work miracles and you move mountains and you give this tired lady hope. So remember you are worth taking up space and fill it with all your goofy unique wonderful soul <3 Love you lovelies, get some rest tonight.

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Okay so I can't stop looking at this post by @ofmd-ann so yes these two are tonight's, even though I'm sure I've posted them individually before (but they go so well together so here we are)

#daily ofmd recaps #daily ofmd recap #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd daily recap #ofmd #our flag means death #rhys darby #save ofmd #taika waititi #samba schutte #ofmd bts #vico ortiz #ofmd crew #save ofmd crew #ofmd renewal repo #watch parties

[meshlasolus]

Come What May

Episode 4/?

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader (little one)

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage, allusions to smut but no actual smut. canon typical violence, robbery?? idek y'all

A/n: I can't believe I edited this in one sitting but here u go now be fed and I'll probably post another one in two months lol

NINE YEARS LATER…

The sand was relentless, as it always was. Such was the life on Tatooine.

The days, though boring and long, brought a sense of peace and security to you. It was comfortable, and you didn’t have to worry about being chased.

Life with Obi was still blissful, though he’d become a different sort of person than he used to be. He was still yours, and one thing that would never change in his life was his unending love and devotion to you. Over all the bad things, you were still there, and if that was so, his life could never be all bad.

He became grumpy easily, but you often teased him, joking about how old he was truly getting. He’d hate when you pointed it out, because he already felt so much older than he had when the war was going on. Many would argue that it aged him, but truth be told, he was perhaps living the youngest days of his life back then.

You, of course, had continued to mature into the beautiful woman he’d always seen before. You looked different, sure… but all the ways you’d changed, he would think were for the better. He loved how normal you seemed. It was always so much more peaceful, living here. It was mundane and often quiet, but it was peaceful, and far less demanding of your former lifestyle. He had always hoped you could live a simple and sweet life, maybe not on this maker-forsaken planet, but having days that were just the same.

The daily routine was easy, and by now implanted in both of your minds. It was second nature, and hard to mess up even if you tried. The mornings were always slow, as the work hours were different from what you’d once known. After dragging each other from the warm confines of bed, there was a shared silence that would fall over you both as you continued to ready yourselves for each job you had. You had the fat end of the stick, getting to work in the city. You were legally dead across the galaxy, and the empire had no warrant for you in any scanner known to the systems. Especially not in the outer rim.

Obi-Wan had taken up the name Ben, the name he remembers from childhood. He doesn’t know if it was his original name, or if it was the name of his father, but it belonged to him somehow, and he felt it was easy to go by.

An hour was spent riding to anchor-head everyday, in order to clock in for your shift, and for him to catch a speeder to whatever work station they needed him at for the day. Lately he’d been harvesting flying Tibidon sand whales for their meat. He never failed to bring back a sliver of what he cut for your Eopie. It was something he did out of habit by now, but it somehow reminded you of a small thing he used to do for you many years ago.

Back in the age of the Jedi, before the clone wars ever began, Obi-Wan Kenobi had two padawans. One was the chosen one, and though he was often found to be a trouble maker, he was still the favorite among the two. The other was a small girl, not yet grown to her full capabilities. She always had a strong appetite, though, and the meals given to her were never enough to satisfy her growing form. Obi-Wan was quick to notice little things like this, and always saved his portion of Ksharra bread for her to eat after everyone was finished. The smile it brought to her was not soon forgotten…

What a sweet memory, and you almost always thought about it when you were watching him interact with the Eopie. He was gentle to all creatures, even after he became a bit hardened and settled into his new role of life.

After the ride home, there were meals that were shared in a comfortable quiet, and then a discussion of the day. It was definitely a more quaint way to live, but you preferred it to the horrid idea of running for years on end. You always told him how thankful you were to be with him, to have him amidst everything. It was he who you remembered the earliest in your life, being there for you, watching out for everything you faced, and helping you through it. He was still doing that, in a way. Though it were not by the force, he gave advice of work topics, different moody customers that would come in during the day, and even just ideas to help the work day seem faster.

It was only after he left for bed, with you watching the stars rise, that you were able to meditate. To revel in the force and to trust in its ways without anyone stopping you. Not to say that Obi-Wan would stop you, but he perhaps would try and convince you it still was not safe. It was you, however, that kept up your daily strength by meditation, and use of the force without his knowledge.

Though he would never know, your strong uses of the force were the thing that helped him sleep through the night, as he often woke up with nightmares, stirring your slumber as well and making you alert to the bad things his mind conjured. It was mostly Anakin, because how could it not be? He was his Master and his best friend, a true brother and ally. He had to have felt some sort of responsibility for what happened to him, all leading up to his death.

You too felt semblances of guilt, but you dealt with it in other ways. For him, these nightmares were often occurrences, and it was due to you that he got any sleep at all.

He would sometimes sit straight up at a moment’s notice, scaring you awake and realizing what had happened. He would breath fast and loud and not be able to slow it down, not even when you wrapped your arms around him from behind, whispering soothing words like he once did for you in your time of nightly terrors. At first, he was lucky to get back to sleep at all… but the more it happened, he found you being near him helped to calm him back to sleep. He’d cut himself off from the force, he had no use of it anymore. He didn’t know it was because of your old developed ability to take away the bad dreams. You always slept soundly beside him, even before you were together. Whenever he was laid next to you, there was not a dream that could plague your mind for the worse.

There was one night when he woke up, calling his old Master’s name. He sometimes dreamt of the way he died. He felt as though it was also his fault, that he could have prevented the Sith Lord Maul from destroying his only father figure.

It was all you could do, to sit with him, and try and calm his mind… but that night was harder. He had begun counting his failures as if they were stars, making them the only thing in the forefront of his mind, and rejecting anything that wasn’t his detrimental thoughts.

You sat with him until sunrise that day, but once the twin suns were over the dunes of everlasting sand, the day went on as normal. The small moments of grief and self loathing were forgotten.

It happened this way, only sometimes.

Something that brought you both peace on the bad days was going out to the hills and crests outside of the moisture farms specifically that being owned by Owen and Beru Lars. It would never be uttered aloud, for these thoughts brought on more episodes of sadness, but watching a small boy grow up in the sandy plains was always bittersweet. Though Luke wasn't a starpilot, or a jedi knight, or a cunning strategist... he reminded you so much of Anakin. You knew Anakin at this age, and all the years after. Even little gestures Luke sometimes made to his aunt and uncle, would send a pang of guilt through your chest. Anakin should be the one watching his son grow up. You all should be retired somewhere nice, like Naboo, with Padme watching over the twins as Anakin and Obi-Wan once again conversed like the brothers they used to be. Bittersweet, watching Luke learn to tend the farm like his uncle, instead of watching him play with his sister whom he knows nothing about.

Obi-Wan would never admit it either, but it was both healing and detrimental to observe Luke from a distance. He was closer to the boy's father than Owen ever was, and much more deserved the title of uncle... but it was not to be. Obi-Wan was a hunted man, and allowing Luke to be close to him could be dangerous.

Obi-Wan would bow his head sometimes after watching the boy, trying to make sense of how everything in his life could have lead to to this, and what could have possibly gone wrong that the galaxy was this bad. He could not even have a relationship with the son of his dearest friend.

Recently, he had delved into something of an addiction for him, something that was a grounding tool to help him realize he wasn’t going insane in these days of mundane work and internal chaos on this maker-forsaken planet. Others might see it as normal, but he had never been so insatiable before now. He craved one thing, constantly… you.

Whether it be through physical intimacy, or even small touches of your skin, he couldn’t get enough, and it was causing him to form strong habits that would not soon falter. You were of course all too happy to indulge him, as for a long time after you first came to these mountains, there was a block between you. The emotional force bond being broken disrupted many things, and that was one of them. You hoped sincerely that this was not just a rut he found himself in, and that it would only last so long. You’d missed the late nights, shared kisses and times of devotion to one another. He was such a gentle and skilled lover, anyone would have killed to know this side of him, but it was you he chose, again and again.

Though one half of the dyad was not felt in the force, he was still the love of your life, and you’d come to know him in a different way these past years. He was not necessarily a new person, but knowing him without the force, and without your constant ability of silent communication, he did become unfamiliar at times.

Still, he was Obi.

Always, he was Obi… even when everyone else used the name Ben, you would never give up the way you’d called upon him since you were but three years old. In public, he was just Ben Kenobi, who worked out in the dunes of Tatooine for a days wage… but in your eyes he was still the great protector of the republic, the General of the 212th legion, and a Master of the Jedi council. Obi-Wan Kenobi.

-

You were late again.

Not to work.

You didn’t tell Obi of your suspicions, feeling as though there could be a mixed reaction from whatever came of your condition, if you were indeed under the diagnosis you felt you were.

It had been ten years, and you were sure you’d retained internal damage that might prevent this outcome, but of course, the galaxy has seen far more impossible things come to fruition. Anakin’s mother conceived him without a man at all, so with the rate that your husband and yourself were going, it was almost bound to happen.

You left work earlier than usual, and gave an easy excuse to your employer as to why, and he of course was more than happy to oblige. You were a loyal and decent worker, so he never had any reason not to. There was a small clinic in Anchorhead, not as far advanced or technical as the one you were able to go to in Mos Eisley, but good enough that you would find out what you need to know, or what you were certain you already knew.

Being still deeply connected with the force, you were able to tell something was there, just like the first time, although now there was a slight difference that made you question it at first. Obi still had no idea, and how could he? You hadn’t let on to it at all and there wasn’t an ounce of strangeness to your behavior. Throw in the fact that he can no longer sense those kind of things, and you have a completely oblivious husband.

The medical droid who tended to you was outdated, but even with old mechanisms and past due needed upgrades, it deducted your symptoms to a diagnosis rather quickly.

You were eleven weeks pregnant, no doubt about it after some quick testing.

Though you were nervous of what this could mean for you, it was far more of a joy. You never thought this would be possible again, given the circumstances of the last time leaving you with injuries that should have made you completely unable to reproduce.

You were so excited as you went back into work, reeling from the information, and trying to think of ways to tell the father of this child that he was in-fact getting another chance at his dream. It wasn’t how you both had planned. You’d wanted to settle down amongst your friends, on a beautiful planet like Naboo. You had hoped for the freedom of the galaxy to give you the opportunities of a peaceful existence. Instead, you were stuck here, on Tatooine. The ugliest planet in the outer rim and much worse than you remember it from your first visit all those years ago. It was all for a reason, of course. Obi-Wan was a wanted man, in nearly every system there was a bounty on his head, with more than enough hunters out searching for him to bring his body dead or alive to the empire. You, of course, being legally dead and all, could go anywhere you wanted… but without him you saw little point in traveling away.

This child would mend the broken dreams you both had for the future, you were sure of it.

You went back about your work with a gleeful smile adorning your face, being extra friendly to patrons and even giving them a little extra for their buck. You couldn’t help the joy, it was too strong to keep bottled up for later. You were sure, though, it would still remain long into the day, and all the others after.

You’d been cleaning out a glass behind the counter when it happened. A group of robbers from out in Mos Eisley came rushing in, holding everyone at blaster point and shouting for them to get down. You grabbed a knife from the nearby drawer, trying to strategize through the force how to deescalate the situation without hurting anyone. Your skills were just the slightest bit rusty, even though you practiced whenever you got the chance. A knife wasn’t exactly your weapon of choice.

The leader of the group stepped forward to the owner of the bar, and told him to empty the credit holds into his sack, but the owner hesitated, turning your way as if asking what he should do. You started taking quick steps towards him, pushing him out of the line of the blaster before it could go off. You waited for them to start shooting, but instead heard the ignition of a lightsaber. Or at least, it sounded a hell of a lot like one.

You jumped to your feet, watching over the counter as the scene played out. There was a man, around your age, wielding a lightsaber to defeat the robbers. They all went down pretty quickly, except one whom the man didn’t see behind him. You called for him to watch out, but he didn’t have enough time to react, so you raised your hand, focusing all your force energy on throwing the last enemy to the wall before he hit the ground.

He turned to you, eyes wide and saber still ignited.

“Did you just-?” He narrowed his eyes in your direction, and something seemed to click in his head.

Nobody else had seen you do that, but him seeing it was enough.

The bar rang with cheers and clapping in applause for the Jedi, who had saved the people in the establishment from being harmed by the robbery. They all commended him, and you had half a mind to forget it ever happened, just go back to work, but the man was keen on speaking with you. Even after the owner, and your boss, had spent a rather long time thanking him and offering him solace in the place, he wouldn’t be done until he’d had a word.

You were mixing up celebratory drinks for a few patrons when he finally was able to corner you, standing over the bar and keeping his voice down.

“I know who you are,” he said softly, as if trying not to spook you away. Most Jedi were like rare animals nowadays. Almost extinct, and completely vulnerable to sudden attack.

You set the glasses onto a tray and made eye contact with him for a single second, sending a glare his way before you went out to the tables and served the drinks around. He stayed and waited at the bar, and when you came back he sighed out.

“I know this must be hard, but I haven’t seen another Jedi in so long,” he rambled, all under the guise of a whisper, of course. You wouldn’t lie, as much as you feared the empire for everything it has taken from you, it was almost a breath of fresh air to see there were others, who hadn’t been stomped out by their evil yet.

“I was never a Jedi,” you said, but ultimately, you knew, no matter what you said, he knew who you were. As strange as it sounds, being the padawan of a famous Jedi came with some sort of notoriety. “You’ve got the wrong person.”

“I know that it’s you, because you’re supposed to be dead,” he had seen your name on the list of the deceased Jedi, along with his own name on the list of hunted ones.

“I am dead.”

He isn’t sure what he was expecting you to say, maybe that you’d been like him, hiding for the last ten years and hoping that there would come a time when Jedi could arise again. But that wasn’t realistic. As long as the empire held rule over the galaxy, there could never be peace and freedom. Not for your kind, anyway.

“And I’m not coming back,” you added ominously, cleaning out the glasses that had just been set on the counter for you to deal with.

He stayed silent a few moments, but didn’t leave. Even if you didn’t speak to him, you understood why he lingered. The only Jedi you have in your life anymore is Obi-Wan, but he’s cut himself off from the force. There is no familiarity of what was. This man is probably on his own, and has been all this time. He craves the sense of normalcy your presence is probably bringing right now. Perhaps you crave it too, and maybe it’s the reason you don’t shoo him away.

“He’s here too, isn’t he?” He asked after a while.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” you weren’t doing yourself any favors in gaslighting this poor man, but you’d built yourself a wall of protection, and it wasn’t going to come down so easily.

“You were inseparable,” he recalls, and he knows you understand him, and that you’re just being standoff-ish. “I always wished to have that relationship with my Master.”

“Believe me, the relationship was far different from what everyone assumed it to be,” You let out sarcastically, finally being able to let your guard down a bit, but only enough that you could interact with him in a way that wasn’t stingy. You’d keep all current details hidden. He wanted to rehash the past? Fine, you could give him that.

“What it ended up as isn’t any of my business, but from what I could tell, the laws of attachment didn’t exactly apply.”

You huffed out a breath, followed by a drawn out ‘Nope.’

You thoughts shifted a bit, to just how poorly you followed the rules. You’re carrying the man’s child for force’s sake. You were never much one for the laws of attachment.

The man before you had a dumbfounded face on, and you mentally slapped yourself. You hadn’t been guarding your thoughts. You haven’t had to in so long and before you realized you needed you, it all just slipped into the open air.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, bowing his head as if he’d been the one to provoke you. In actuality, you’d pretty much offered it all up freely for him to take, and you didn’t even know what to do about it.

“Don’t be, it’s my fault… it’s just-“

“Been a long time?” He guessed, and you nodded in agreement. “I understand.”

And now a complete stranger knew some very personal things. Perhaps he wasn’t stranger, though. He knew you, and Obi-Wan, and remembered the order from its glory days. You both had a sense of shared trauma that somehow bonded you without ever speaking a word to each other before.

“How did you recognize me?” You asked him after another bout of silence. You were drying off the dishes, and figured that as long as he was here, you would make the most of it. This clearly wasn’t an everyday occurrence. “I’m almost certain I’ve never met you up close before.”

He smiled, nodding to your hair, swept back into a style you’d become fond of lately. “Never met you, but I’d seen you around. You were rather well known among the order.”

“Guess those are the perks of being his padawan, huh?” You’d echoed your thoughts from earlier, and he chuckled.

“He was the person that everyone wanted to be. Not just a great Jedi, but a good man.”

Of course. You knew that better than anyone. He cared so deeply about everything he set his hand to. He was kind and gentle, though sometimes sarcastic and witty, but that too made him more likable in your eyes.

“He’s not changed in that aspect,” you let him know, and he took it as motive to tease you.

“I knew he’d be here,” he returned, and you looked up and laughed a bit. He’d caught you there. “He’d never left your side.”

You didn’t respond, just let that statement sink in. You guessed that many more Jedi in the order had perceived your relationship for what it really was, but never said anything. Maybe they were rooting for you, or maybe you gave them hope. It was all up for interpretation, but the one thing you could never deny was the realness in it. He’s never left your side, and he never will. Of that, you can be absolutely sure and certain.

When it was time to close up the bar that night, you’d left before the owner, making sure he was alright after the fiasco of the day. You passed your new and unlikely friend the Jedi on the way out as well, giving a simple nod that spoke more than just words. You knew he needed to talk with you, and as much as you will neglect to admit it, you needed to talk to him, too.

You found yourself at the stables before sundown, meeting with Obi by your shared Eopie, ready to go home.

You figured that the bundle of joy news could wait until things were a bit more settled. You didn’t know how the scene of today would go in the long run, or if imperials had been alerted, but you wanted to know about all of that before trying to make future plans for the child you were carrying.

He saw you enter the sectional, and smiled to you with that adoring look in his eye, the one that never faded.

“You won’t believe what happened today.”

-

Tags: @cool-h-posts @honestlywtfisgoingon @fandomstanner24 @elvenrin @b0xerdancer @theatrelove3000 @graciexmarvel @heyitsaloy @1deadpool26 @justanothersadperson93 @zanzann @the-nerd-dimension @spencerrxids @sawendel @fandomstanner24 @i-shall-abide @officialjellydoughnut @whatshxrname @darkened-writer @superavengerpotter @cutiepoo16 @hypnoash @softlymellow @howlerwolfmax @mephistominion @honestlywtfisgoingon @anakinskywalkerog @mandiiellen @je--a-n @guyinachair27 @avenger5-a55emble @amelia-song-pond @kaminanii @the-abyss-of-fandoms @queenofnightdreamland @world-dominating-kitty @mandowhatnow @ella-error505 @annahalo @infinity-witch @beetlejuice-stuff @liueski @solarbxby @sirianisrock @lxdyred @endless-warrior-always-fighter @iloveinej @msjb2002 @shoochi @itsilvermorny @gingerrosecosplay @sebschicken @loversjoy @argentinemango @1-800-vader @house-of-kolchek @marierg @graciexmarvel @ttzamara @truly-madly-nerdy @molieux @majahu @dyzlks @pancakefancake

#obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #obi wan and anakin #obi wan kenobi x pregnant reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi smut #HoM #obi wan kenobi x little one

[roanniom]

The Shift - Part 2

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 9k~

Read Part 1 Here

Note: You can blame @millenialcatlady (lovingly) for the angst in this part. She is reminding me daily to appreciate a wider range of emotions in fic (i.e. more than horniness) and that spilled out big time here. You can also thank her for the length, because without the part that happens mid way, this part - as originally planned - would have been literally half as long lmao

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, PIV sex / Unprotected sex / Car sex / semi public sex, fingering, teasing, dirty talk, slight degradation, slight praise kink, kinda inappropriate PDA in a grocery store, brief mention of masturbation (m), mentions of food and food consumption, Angst with a capital A (you are pretty mean to Steve at a certain point but then we realize you might have intimacy issues), enemies to lovers continuation

Steve is fucked. He knows it from the minute he touches you that he’s crossed a line he’s not going to be able to uncross. But you just got under his skin so much and on his nerves so frequently and the heat in that back room had been so unbearable he wanted to rip his clothes off - and yours in the process.

And that’s what’s got him banging his head against the counter today, while he sits overly early for his morning shift. He almost could have gotten away with blaming the heat - both the heat of the moment and the heat in that damn back room. He almost could have been able to chalk it up to a mix of repeated-bad-date-blue-balls and a hyperactive sex drive in need of an outlet.

But then he’d called you sweetheart. And you’d reacted like that.

And he’d said what he said.

He’d called you sweetheart and you’d positively clenched around him. You’d moaned and opened up even more for him and suddenly he’d confessed to having always wanted to be sweet with you.

It wasn’t a false statement. He’d spent hours at home, especially after particularly long shifts, touching himself to thoughts of you. It always had the same pattern - it always started out with frustration. Fantasies of shutting you up with his cock in your mouth, or pushing you onto the checkout counter and fucking you where anyone could walk in and see. But they always melted into something different. Something slower. Deeper. Lips clashing and hands roaming. Harsh pants and expletives became low moans and whimpers.

And your face.

In his fantasies your face always opened up. Gone was the judgmental frown, the challenging quirk of your brow. Instead, you always gazed up at him in wonder. Lips parted in a silent gasp. Eyebrows knitted together in startled pleasure, like you were teetering on the edge of crying.

Intentional or not, that is what he had been alluding to when he said he wanted to be sweet with you. And your reaction was like a beat out of those fantasies. The only bad part about it was that he didn’t get to see your face when it happened.

Robin’s sudden presence had thrown a wrench in everything. The two of you had scrambled apart before he’d even had a chance to consider what you both had just done. Steve had never pulled up and buttoned his pants so fast in his entire life, and when he’d looked over at you your eyes were wide with panic, hands manically tucking your shirt back into your jeans.

The jeans he’d just admitted to getting so turned on by only minutes ago.

Your shirt, however, was ridiculously askew, but you apparently hadn’t noticed it because you’d moved on to smoothing your hair and attempting to arrange yourself in a casual pose next to the vending machine as Robin approached the door.

Steve had lunged forward and adjusted your shirt and you had glanced up at him, startled by his sudden action but then softening at the gentleness of his touch.

Your eye contact only had a moment to simmer though because he’d had to jump back again as Robin barreled through the door, launching straight into a lengthy description of every exchange, look, and breath that occurred during her date.

Steve was happy for his friend. He really was. It had been such a long time in coming and he was so happy Robin was finally on the path towards actual, tangible romance.

But currently Steve is too bogged down with his own actual, tangible - what even should he call it? Definitely not romance. A hate fuck? Couldn’t be that, not after what he said and how you’d reacted. Steve continues putting Family Video stickers on the boxes of the new shipment of tapes that had come in the night before. Every few moments his eyes flick towards the door, both desperately awaiting and desperately dreading your impending arrival. It’s Sunday morning - the shift you usually work together, the previous day having been out of the ordinary what with you covering for Robin.

More often than not these shifts aren’t memorable. The two of you orbit around one another on a wave of sarcasm and antagonism, but other than that the day usually passes by quickly. Perhaps because he spends all of his time and energy trying to think of new ways to annoy you and make the cute angry furrow appear on your brow.

But today will be different. Because now he’s been inside you.

Steve abruptly slams his head into the counter, letting the intrusive thoughts finally take over, but a voice interrupts his self-flagellation.

“How could something possibly be wrong with you already? The day just started.”

Robin’s voice rings out along with the bell as she enters the front door, shouldering on her Family Video uniform vest. Steve’s mouth goes dry.

“What are you…this isn’t your shift.”

“Nice to see you, too, Steve,” Robin says, patting the back of his hand over the counter before walking towards the back room to put her bag down. Steve jogs after her.

“Yeah, nice to see ya - but seriously. You don’t work Sunday mornings.”

Robin places her bag down and turns to Steve with her hands on her hips.

“I picked up the shift. That something you need to be made aware of? Should I have called you last night and informed you ahead of time?”

“Well I mean, first of all yes because I’m usually your ride,” Steve points out, rubbing the back of his neck. “How did you - ?”

“The bus. I am capable of public transportation, Harrington. There was a time before you graced my life with your presence, you know.” Robin breezes past him and walks back onto the main floor, grabbing onto the stocking cart and bringing it out to the shelves lining the far wall. Again Steve has to jog to catch up.

“But…the trainee usually works on Sunday.” Steve’s voice is low, almost speaking to him self as he realizes that this line of questioning probably isn’t going to get him an answer he will like. But to his surprise Robin turns on her heel abruptly, rounding on him with a finger pointed at his chest.

“Two minutes!” she cries triumphantly. Steve lifts his hands up in confused surrender.

“What are you talking about?”

“It only took two minutes for you to bring her up. You guys fucked, didn’t you.” It’s an accusation but a massive smile splits her face. Steve cringes away from her enthusiasm.

“What the fuck, Robin!”

“Was it good? Did you initiate it? Did she?!” Now Robin is the one to chase after Steve as he stalks back to the front counter.

“I don’t know what could possibly make you think - ,”

“Because she called me and asked me to cover for her today, dumbass.”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the counter.

“I don’t see what’s so incriminating about that.”

“The incriminating part was the fact that she didn’t call you an asshole once. Didn’t tell me to make your life miserable today or anything. Either of which would have been standard trainee behavior.”

“Did…did she say anything about me?” Steve asks, internally kicking himself over how pathetic the question sounds.

Robin’s face melts into a look of pouting sympathy.

“Bangs her once and he’s hoping she’s thinking about him. Steve Harrington’s a sap, ladies and gentlemen.”

Steve’s about to wag his patented stern babysitter finger at her when the bell on the door rings, signaling the entrance of a customer. Both Robin and Steve whip around, tense with the knee-jerk instinct to provide low-grade customer service. They both deflate immediately, however, when they notice it’s just Dustin.

“Not now, Henderson,” Steve calls out across the length of the store. The curly headed boy throws his hands up defensively.

“How can I already deserve this hostility? I just got here!”

“Steve’s having a crisis,” Robin says, as if it is a holistic explanation. Dustin leans against the checkout counter.

“Did he run out of that mousse stuff he puts in his hair?” Dustin asks, nodding sympathetically. Steve's head shoots up with a frown.

“What? No!”

“Really?” Dustin asks. “Cuz it kinda of seems like it’s got less va-va-voom than normal.”

Robin cocks her head to the side and surveys Steve beside her, making him scowl.

“You know, now that he mentions it, you’re a little less shampoo-commercial-ready than you usually are,” she agrees. Steve runs a hand through his criticized locks in frustration.

“I was a little distracted this morning. Maybe I didn’t pay as much attention getting ready, alright? Lay off, guys.” Steve pushes the stock cart back to the counter to pick up the next set of returns to shelve.

“What’s got you so distracted, buddy?” Dustin asks, resting his elbows on the counter and his chin on his hands. He looks so genuine that Steve’s heart pangs and his usual instinct to yell at the kid is dulled. He opens his mouth to respond but then Robin speaks up from behind him.

“Steve’s got a lady love.”

“Another flavor of the week or is this like an actual thing?” Dustin asks, his eyes lighting up.

Steve rolls his eyes and feels the moment of sincerity pass. He grabs the next stack of tapes with a little too much aggression.

“Dude, grow up, don’t say ‘flavor of the week.’ And women aren’t ‘things,’ dumbass.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Steve,” Dustin points out.

“That’s because your question is stupid and not worth an answer,” Steve dismisses, pushing the cart back onto the floor. Dustin watches him retreat quietly for a second before turning.

“Robin?”

Robin runs over to the counter and opens her mouth to respond but Steve throws up a hand from across the room.

“NO!” He interrupts. “No. We aren’t having this conversation.”

“Ooo he’s mad mad. That means this is an actual thing,” Dustin says, shoving a candy display off the surface of the counter and hopping over, landing ungracefully behind it.

“Not again, Henderson damn it!” Steve yells, covering his eyes with a hand. “And what did I say about calling women things!”

“It’s the other girl who works here, isn’t it?” Dustin asks. He directs the question to Robin who’s nodding and smiling before Steve can stop her.

“Why the fuck would you assume -,”

“It is her! They had…a moment, it would seem,” Robin says, catching herself before she says anything inappropriate but wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“You guys had sex?!” Dustin cries out, this time whirling around to address Steve. Steve’s hands fly to his head and he ducks, as if he could dodge out of the way of Dustin’s out of line comment.

“Woah. WOAH. You are a child. You are not allowed to ask me that!”

“I’m fifteen, I think I can handle -,”

“Robin, you’re a bad influence. You lose your babysitting privileges,” Steve says, speaking over Dustin and grabbing Robin by the shoulder to drag her away from the boy.

“I mean I never really wanted to babysit your kids in the first place, Steve, so that’s not really a punishment...”

“But I don’t get it, if you had sex with the trainee, why do you seem so mad?” Dustin pipes up, clearly confused.

“WAY out of line, Henderson.” Steve cries out with a glare.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Dustin again puts up his hands defensively. “I mean, if you ‘made love’ with the trainee, then why - “

“Jesus FUCKING Christ!” Steve covers his ears and stomps to the back room.

“What did I do?” Dustin asks Robin, shocked. Robin shrugs.

“I mean to be fair, ‘make love’ is absolutely gross, dude,” she says before running after Steve. Dustin remains alone in the front of the store, defeated.

“Well then what can I call it?” he calls out after them both. “The horizontal tango? The beast with two backs?”

“HENDERSON!” Robin and Steve both scream from the back room.

“Yeesh. Puritans.” Dustin rolls his eyes and jogs to join them.

~*~

Later that evening you find yourself dragging yourself through the entrance of the local grocery store. You’d spent the whole day in bed, flipping through radio stations with shitty static and thumbing through magazines and books you’d long since finished. Doing anything and everything to keep Steve Harrington off your mind.

Fuck Steve Harrington.

Well…you had.

Fucked Steve Harrington that is.

And it had been good. You slap a hand over your tired face in front of the bananas in the produce section as the memory of his hands on your hips comes rushing back. It’s been like this all day. A nonstop highlight reel of every second of your sexual encounter with your archnemesis. But can you even call him your archnemesis anymore after what happened yesterday?

Was calling him your archnemesis ever even accurate to begin with?

You’d spent hours revisiting conversations and arguments and blow ups in your mind, trying to piece your way through the memories to make sense of the way your body had reacted to his touch and his words. The more you thought about it, the clearer it became.

You’d had a thing for Steve when you first started working at Family Video, Robin hadn’t been wrong when she told him that. You’d always been intrigued by him from a distance back at school, and being up close at the same job just intensified things. He was pretty and cocky and funny. And that first week he seemed genuinely kind and welcoming. But as you traced your memories back, you realized exactly where your favor started to darken. It was the way he flirted with any girl who stepped over the threshold of the store, turning on a charm that shot so much electricity through the place that it could probably blow a fuse. The girls often ranged from neutral to interested in response, but their presence and his behavior around them infuriated you.

You’d always chalked it up to the fact that it would be against your feminist nature to accept such flagrant hounddog behavior. You’d lied to yourself that you felt bad for these girls and that you were annoyed that Harrignton couldn’t keep it in his pants long enough to do a second of his job right.

But today, in the cold hard light filtering through the window of your shitty apartment it dawned on you that jealousy was the root of your problems. You didn’t hate Steve for going after women. You hated that you weren’t a woman he was going after.

After this earthquake of a revelation rocked your world around midday, you had barely enough strength to drag your ass to the kitchen until the sun started going down and your stomach screamed in protest. Upon opening your fridge, however, you’d come to the sad realization that you had little more than a half empty jar of jelly and a few pickles. Money had been tight since you’d defiantly moved out of your parents’ home after graduation. You probably shouldn’t have skipped your shift today. If only the fucking sex god with beautiful hair and an infuriating personality hadn’t also been scheduled.

And that’s how you find yourself poking at tomatoes and trying to figure out what food will land squarely in the center of the venn diagram of stuff you can afford and stuff you can bear to eat.

“You know if you bruise them they make you buy them.”

The voice coming from behind you makes you jump, sending several tomatoes rolling down to the ground in the process. You drop down to your knees and busy yourself with picking up the spilled produce, doing your best not to look over at the person who had spoken.

As you reach for the last tomato, however, your hand touches another hand reaching for the lumpy little fruit. You wrench your arm back and whip around to look at Steve Harrington.

“I can handle this, thanks,” you snap, lumbering to your feet with an armful of floor battered tomatoes. He straightens up holding the one he’d managed to snag and he watches you as you dump your own back onto the display. Your heart is beating out of your chest but you bring your eyes up to meet his.

“Hey,” he says. It’s anticlimactic. It almost makes you laugh. But you don’t. Instead you continue frowning.

“Why are you here, Harrington?”

“Um…getting groceries?” He quirks an eyebrow. “Because it’s a grocery store.”

You shift awkwardly from one foot to the other while grabbing onto your shopping cart.

“I guess that makes sense.” You’re searching for something - anything - that you could say to transition out of this conversation so you can run home and throw yourself under the covers. Before you can make a hasty exit though, Steve speaks up.

“You weren’t at work today.”

“Congrats Sherlock. That means you can tell Robin and I apart.” Your words are biting, but you see a smirk play at the corner of his lips at your familiar antagonism. “And here I thought anything with boobs looked alike to you.”

Steve rubs the back of his neck and seems to contemplate his next words carefully which annoys you, so you continue.

“That was a softball, Harrington. I assumed you’d say ‘well now I’ve seen your boobs so I’d know them anywhere,’” you challenge.

“Technically I only felt them. I was behind you, remember? I didn’t actually see anything,” he challenges with a sheepish grin. You feel your stomach drop. The urge to reply with “well do you want to?” is so strong you literally have to bite your tongue.

You need to get a hold of yourself.

“I do remember. But I was pretty sure you were going to claim amnesia,” you answer casually, pushing your cart onward. Steve puts his hands in his pockets and kicks the corner of the tomato display lightly before deciding to follow you.

“And why would you think I’d do that?”

“Mr. Steve another-date-every-week Harrington? Pretty sure blacking out experiences is what makes it easier to move on, right?”

Your flippant comment wounds him harder than he would have liked, and you would have been able to see it on his face if you were looking at him. But you’re not because you’re turning the corner and starting to walk down the frozen foods aisle.

“You really think you’ve got me all figured out,” he says bitterly. It’s a statement, not a question. You wrench open a freezer door a little harsher than you intend. Let the icy chill from inside waft over you and hopefully help calm your frazzled nerves at his biting tone.

“I know I do,” you reply simply without looking at him. You peruse the frozen dinners, trying desperately to remind yourself that there is a goal to this grocery trip. You hadn’t dragged your ass out of bed and all the way here just to be grilled by an asshole with amazing hair.

You try not to think about the fact that his hair seems more disheveled than usual today. You also try not to think about the fact that you like it that way.

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” Steve counters, leaning up against the freezer door next to the one you have open. You tear your eyes away from the rows of unappealing lasagna and fix him with a glare.

“And you don’t know the first thing about me.”

Steve lets out a bark of a laugh and you raise a brow at him.

“I know some things now, sweetheart.”

Steve doesn’t miss the way you involuntarily shiver. At his words, not the fog that starts to accumulate from the freezer chill mixing with the warm grocery store air. He pushes himself off the freezer door and moves towards you. In a panic you try to step away but he’s quick, and suddenly you’re pressing yourself up against the inside of the freezer door as you try to keep space between your bodies.

“You’re such an asshole, Harrington.”

“Yeah. And you’re…a slut.” He whispers the word, conscious of the fact that you’re in a public place. A deserted aisle. But a public place nonetheless. Again a ripple passes over your face and your eyelids flutter closed, only for a second. Steve chuckles and leans a forearm against the interior freezer door right next to your face. “I saw that.”

“We’re in a damn freezer. It’s f-fucking cold.” Your lie sounds weak even to your own ears.

“That’s a shitty excuse and you know it,” Steve reprimands. His tone goes straight to your core and you shift from foot to foot. His eyes search your face, so you do your best to lift your chin in defiance.

“So you know some things that make me horny. It’s 1986, not the Victorian era. I’m not, like, ashamed.”

“So you admit I make you horny,” Steve points out, a grin on his stupid handsome face.

“UGH! I said ‘things’ that make me horny.”

“A little dehumanizing to call me a thing, to be fair, but hey if you want to use me like one, baby…”

“You are IMPOSSIBLE,” you whisper-scream, fisting your hands in the front of his shirt. Steve’s eyes go wide at the contact and he takes a lurching step forward due to the force of your grasp. The hand of his that’s not braced on the door behind you lands on your hip to steady himself.

“I’m impossible?” Steve asks incredulously. “You’re the one who’s both pushing and pulling. I’m getting fucking whiplash over here, babe.” His eyes glance down at your hands on him and back up to you pointedly.

“You make me so mad, Harrington,” you say, your voice low. He sees something other than anger in your eyes, however. If you hadn’t pulled him this close, maybe he wouldn’t have been able to notice it. But it’s there, just under the surface.

“Yeah? And I think you like that.”

“What?”

“I make you feel something,” Steve says, like it’s a cold hard fact. “None of those other assholes ever make you feel anything. You’re so fucking desperate not to be numb that you pick fights with me just to get your blood pumping.”

Your fists tighten in his shirt, nails pinching his skin through the fabric. Steve hisses.

“Well if that’s true about me, what about you? Those bimbos not stimulating enough? Can’t get your dick hard if you’re not getting yelled at?”

That statement pinches one too many nerves and suddenly Steve is pressing up against you, chest and pelvis flush to yours, your fists trapped between your bodies. Your back pushed hard up against the condensation wet interior of the freezer door. The door strains on it’s hinges from the force, threatening to hyper extend past its 90 degree limit.

“And you get off on being an absolute bitch. Being mean to me makes you wet, huh? I bet you’re soaked under that skirt right? Dropped those tomatoes earlier because you hoped if you bent over I’d fuck you right there in the produce section?”

Your gasping inhale is so loud both of your eyes widen, the sound ripping the two of you out of the lust-filled haze of aggression in which you’d been wrapped. You turn your head to break eye contact, blinking and taking a few centering breaths while Steve tosses a look over his shoulder to make sure nobody’s walked up.

You’re still alone in the aisle.

And Steve’s still got you pressed up against the inside of the freezer door.

You wait a few more stuttering heartbeats before you allow yourself to look at him again. When you do, your heart palpitates even more. He’s abandoned his grasp on your hip to run an agitated hand through his hair again, making himself even more disheveled than before. His lips are wet and red from nervous biting and his eyes are sheepish as he gazes back at you. You give yourself only a split second to think before you’re ducking under his arm and peeling yourself out from between him and the door.

“Hey, I didn’t - ,” he starts to call after you, but you grab his wrist and yank him to follow you. He stumbles but recovers, breaking into a brisk walk to keep up with the way you drag him. Out of the frozen food aisle, abandoning your empty cart. Past the empty row of checkout lanes and the bored cashier who doesn’t look up from filing her nails to perceive either of you. Through the open door and into the wall of heat and humidity of the Hawkins summer night air. You stop abruptly when you step off the curb outside the store and Steve’s still moving body collides into yours.

“Where’s your car?”

“What?” he asks, still a few seconds behind, physically and mentally. You bounce on the balls of your feet impatiently, scanning the sparse smattering of vehicles spread out in the lot.

“Where is your fucking car, Harrington!”

“Um it’s that one,” Steve rushes to say, pointing to the maroon BMW parked a couple spaces from the front of the store, mercifully to the side on the row furthest to the left of the lot. You drag him by the wrist over to his car as his confusion continues. “Why do you need my car?”

“Because I suspected, and it appears I’m correct,” you say, sizing up his car as you approach it. “That your back seat is bigger than mine.”

“My back - hmph!” his response is silenced when you shove him in front of you and slam his back into the side of his car. You get right up into his space, pushing him against the door and getting up on your tiptoes as you reach up and wrench him down by the hair at the nape of his neck.

And suddenly you’re kissing him with a ferocity of which you didn’t know you were capable. Your other hand pushes against his chest, fingers splayed and palm pressing, feeling his muscles clench and tighten.

Despite the surprise nature of your attack, Steve doesn’t miss a beat. He’s kissing you back and matching your intensity head on. His hands grip at your waist and he hauls you against him, helping you press him harder against the car and making sure your bodies are fused as tightly to one another as physically possible.

You’ve never been the one to press someone against anything before, and there’s a heady rush that hazes your mind as the dynamic sinks in. Sure you’ve had men press you up against walls or doors before, but you’ve never been the instigator. Never felt the need to exert control over someone else’s body so bad that you have to take it. Have to ground them against a hard surface to ensure they feel the weight and pressure of your touch. The power trip sends you reeling and have to pull away, gasping for air before you can get so lightheaded you do something stupid like pass out.

“Harrington.” His name sounds desperate with your jagged voice. Steve seems utterly out of it, staring down at you dumbfounded with drooping eyelids and wet lips parted to facilitate a heavy pant. When he doesn’t respond, just staring at you, you pull at his hair, making him hiss. “Harrington, open the fucking car.”

It takes him a beat to comprehend what you’re telling him to do, but then his hand is digging in his pocket and he’s scrambling to unlock the vehicle. You step back to give him space to do as you told him, trying not to think too hard about the heartbeat hammering away in your chest and between your legs. You throw a glance over your shoulder at the entrance to the grocery store, but it still seems quiet. A quick scan of the parking lot gleans a similar silence. When Steve’s got the car unlocked he opens the back seat and turns back to you, leaning heavily on the open door.

“Um…did you…what…” he’s blinking at you, suddenly unsure. The streetlight overhead illuminating this section of the parking lot has him looking younger than he ever has before, and there’s a softness in his eyes when he looks at you that doesn’t match the mood of what you’ve been doing. You swallow the emotion threatening to climb through your throat and you step forward briskly, ducking into the backseat and pulling him in along after you.

Steve clambers into the car to find you laying yourself out along the bench seat. Your hands grab at the front of his shirt again and drag him to climb over your body. He barely has the wherewithal to pull the door closed behind him before your lips are attacking his once more. You’re greedy and grabby and you wrap yourself around him like a boa constrictor. Arms wind around his neck and shoulders. Legs come up around his hips, ankles locking against his back. Steve feels suffocated and overwhelmed and turned on and agitated and -

“Fuck just - easy. Easy!” Steve’s loud words in the close confines of the car rattle you, as does the vibration of his raised voice against your body. You freeze and he is finally able to pull away a bit, propping himself up with his hands on the leather seats on either side of your head.

“What? What is it?” You seem confused. A bit dazed even. Now you’re the disheveled one. Steve takes in the way you look beneath him - clothes askew, eyes too bright if a little hazy, lips kiss bruised and wet. You blink up at him with a furrow deepening in your brow, becoming more and more uncertain with every second that passes of him just looking at you.

“You just…” Steve exhales in frustration and goes to sit up abruptly, slamming his head on the car ceiling. He yelps and grips his skull, but looks down quickly when he hears a giggle erupting from beneath him. You have your hands covering your mouth to try and contain your laughter, but the mirth is evident in your squinting eyes, crinkling at the corners. Steve can’t help but chuckle along, trying to ignore the zing of fondness that burns behind his eyes along with the pain from the bump.

He lurches forward and grabs your hands away from your face, dropping to support himself with his elbows on the seat either side of your head and pinning your wrists against the door behind you.

“You think that’s funny?”

“A little,” you admit, biting your lip in a continued attempt to contain your laughter.

“Of course you think my pain is funny.” He rolls his eyes and your eyebrows shoot up.

“You squealed.”

“I shouted,” he corrects. You shake your head.

“You went very high pitched there. Sounded like it hurt,” you say cheekily. “If it still hurts don’t mind me. Feel free to whimper if you’d like.”

Steve chuckles low and you feel the vibrations in your abdomen where his is pressed to yours. It makes you squirm against him and he notices.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” When you nod with another uncharacteristically light giggle he smiles down at you. “I’d like it too, you know.”

“You whimpering?” you ask. Steve shakes his head and dips so that his lips are a centimeter from yours. You hold your breath.

“No, you.”

Just as you lean up to try and make your lips meet, he ducks his head down and latches onto the skin of your throat. You gasp out, disoriented by the sudden switch and thrown off by the pleasurable sensation.

“You seem to like getting your own way,” he says gruffly, shifting your two wrists into one of his hands so his free hand can hike your legs higher up around his hips. “But so do I.”

Steve rolls his hips into you, starting a steady rhythm out of nowhere. The friction of his hard on against the apex of your legs is delicious and immediate and you find yourself squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip to keep from reacting too dramatically.

“You really should open your eyes, sweetheart,” Steve coos, gripping onto the flesh of your outer thigh. Your eyes snap open and you find him smirking over you, watching. “You’re the one who dragged me in here. Be fucking polite.”

“You don’t know anything about being polite, Harrington.” Your response floods out on instinct, words not even matching tone because they aren’t even congruous with what you’re currently feeling. You’ve just got such extreme muscle memory of being combative with Steve that you can’t help it.

Steve gasps in mock surprise before tsking at you, his eyes dropping to your lips which part wide after a particularly good roll of his hips.

“We’re not doing that. You’re not going to fight me. Not when I’m on top of you.”

“Why…why not?” Your jaw tenses and he nips at it with his teeth.

“Because we’re doing it my way this time,” he replies definitively. His hand slides from the outside of your thigh up to your hip, flipping your skirt up in the process and exposing the comfortable pair of cotton panties that you’re wearing below.

“Was you fucking me from behind in the break room not ‘your way’ enough?” you challenge, though your voice is losing its edge. Steve’s hand slides horizontally from your hip, over your abdomen and down to cup your mound, fingers pressing into the wet spot on the fabric lower down between your thighs. “You always get your own damn way, Harrington.”

“Can you just fucking…” Steve closes his eyes for a second and hums out a frustrated exhale. When his eyes open back up he looks serious and it makes your stomach swoop. “I’m going to stop if you keep fighting me.”

“Why?”

“Because I won’t fuck someone who doesn’t want it,” Steve says definitively. He lets go of your hands and sits back on his heels between your legs, this time remembering to stay low enough not to bang his head on the ceiling.

Panic floods your system from the decrease in physical contact and your newly freed hands scrabble to clutch at his shirt.

“What - no! I want it!”

Steve shakes his head and grips your wrists gently but firmly, getting you to unhand him.

“You seem angry with me and I…that doesn’t work. I need like…enthusiastic consent or whatever the fuck they call it.” Steve passes a stressed hand over his face and slides it up to ruffle through his hair distractedly. Your chest moves up and down frantically as you try to think of what to say to reroute from this disappointing new trajectory.

“I’m the one who brought you here. Obviously I -,”

“There is nothing ‘obvious’ when it comes to you, sweetheart.” Steve sighs. “Pretend I’m stupid, like I know you already think I am. Spell it out for me.”

“You and I argue. It’s what we do…” you try to reason.

“We argue, yeah. But it’s usually fun. Teasing.” His hands finally drop back down, resting on your thighs, albeit closer to your knees than the apex. His thumbs begin smoothing circles into your skin. “But today you’re mad.”

You swallow harshly and try to look away but there’s nowhere to go. You’re in a car. Underneath him still. In the place where you wanted to be. Where you dragged him. Emotion wells up inside you and you shiver from discomfort this time.

“I’m not…mad. I just…” you struggle with your words and Steve seems to take pity on you, stroking his hands back and forth on the length of your thighs.

“You just what?”

“I don’t…god damn it.” You turn your head to blink rapidly in the direction of the passenger seat. “I don’t know how to…be sweet.”

“What?” Steve lets out an incredulous laugh. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what I said,” you mumble, still not looking at him. Steve’s fingers gently grip your chin and he turns your head back to face him.

“Now I know that’s bullshit because I’ve seen you be sweet plenty of times.” Steve lowers himself slightly. Not fully back on top of you, but removing some of the distance he’d place between your bodies. “You’re always sweet to kids who come into Family Video. You’re very nice to your friends. Robin fucking loves you…”

“Robin isn’t very discerning, to be fair,” you say with a self deprecating snort. Steve gives you a lopsided grin.

“Yeah, she keeps me around, doesn’t she? Points against her taste.”

You laugh in response but then you screw your eyes shut and put your hands over your face.

“See! Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t even pretend not to say something mean.”

“Hey hey hey,” Steve says to you, prying your hands off your face. “You’re not the one who said the mean thing about me, I did. And we’re laughing. This is okay.”

“This is okay?” you ask uncertainly, squinting up at him through one open eye.

“As long as you’re not frowning up at me as if I kicked your hypothetical puppy, we’re all good.”

“Well good then. Just make sure not to kick my hypothetical puppy then, Steve,” you say, cracking a hesitant smile. Steve’s answering smile is radiant. You’d called him Steve, something you don’t often do.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

Then he’s leaning down and pressing a kiss to your mouth. A proper kiss, firm and sweet. Unlike the aggressive ones that had passed between you when you’d first toppled into the car. You breathe him in and when your lips open his tongue seeks refuge, which you welcome.

Steve settles back down over you. Your arms wind back around him and pull him close, making him chuckle against your lips in response. He breaks away only to pepper kisses across your cheek, around the curve of your jaw and back down the side of your neck. His attention to the skin of your neck makes you hum, so Steve hums right back at you.

“See? Sweet.” Steve kisses your collarbone as his hands return to where they had been before your emotional intermission. He begins to rub his finger over your dripping slit through the fabric of your underwear while his other hand begins to push up at the bottom hem of your top. “I like all of your flavors, to be honest. But right now this just…this works for right now.”

Your breath catches in your chest as he lifts your shirt up to expose your naked breasts. You’d left the house in a rush for what was supposed to be a quick trip to the grocery store (what a lost cause of a goal), so you had just left wearing what you’d slept in. Steve bites his lip at the sight before him.

“Fuck. Yeah…” comes his inarticulate assessment. His hands grips your sides over your ribs, thumbs sweeping up to swipe slowly at the bottom curves of your breasts. You chuckle at his reaction and reach up to push his hair out of his face like you’d been wanting to do.

“Yeah?” you prompt. Steve shakes his head.

“Committing these to memory. So next time I can say ‘I’d know them anywhere’.”

The call back from the produce section has you full on laughing. His grin is obnoxiously wide as he takes in your relaxed body language and open, happy features.

“You know you’re so fucking pretty,” he says quietly. Your laughter calms down a little and you shrug. “Shut the fuck up,” he adds, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t say anything!” you gasp with mock offense. His hands slide up higher under your arms so his thumbs are now rolling over your nipples. You let out a sigh.

“You’re pretty and that’s a fact. Not an opinion, so don’t you shrug at me, sweetheart.”

“Pretty sure an aesthetic assessment can only be opinion, so -,” you begin to argue, but Steve puts a hushing finger up to your lips.

“Ah ah ah,” he interrupts you. “We’re doing this my way, right?”

“Right,” you agree quickly, not about to let things backslide now that his hands are making you feel so good. The hand on your lip returns down to your abdomen, tiptoeing back down to your panties. But this time it slides under the elastic, coming down to rub through your waiting slick. Almost like a reward for cooperating.

“According to me, you’re fucking pretty.”

“Okay, Steve,” you say, testing your theory about whether or not he rewards you for cooperating. Immediately two fingers of the hand between your legs sink deep inside your pussy, just ask his other hand closes fully around your breast for the first time. “Oh god…”

“Say that again.”

“Oh god,” you repeat, this time more of a moan.

“No not - christ,” Steve laughs, breathless. “Say my name again.”

“Steve,” you whisper. His middle and ring fingers have begun to move in and out of you while his thumb rubs circles into your aching clit.

“I like that,” he says, his honesty unmistakably vulnerable. You get a fleeting urge to make fun of him for it, but then your heart pangs, taking in the way he blinks at you, eyes dark.

“Steve,” you repeat.

He’s on you then, back to kissing and sucking and biting. Now that there’s more exposed surface area with your shirt pushed up, he has more real estate to mark and explore, which he does diligently with his mouth.

His preoccupation leaves you beside yourself with want and need. Your hips have begun to rut up into his hand to meet his thrusting fingers and your moans become more substantial.

“I-I want…want…” you keep trying to speak but the words get trapped on your tongue.

Steve pulls away from your wetted skin long enough to check in.

“What do you want, baby?”

“I want…you.”

You’re not asking him to fuck you. You’re not demanding he get inside you. You’re just asking for him. It makes his throat tighten and he’s nodding. He props himself up on one hand and uses the other to unbuckle his belt and jeans but he fumbles so you reach up frantically to help him. Together you manage to yank his jeans down far enough to expose his boxers and you slip your hand against him to massage through the fabric. You feel the aching emptiness now that his fingers are no longer inside you. Now that their much better replacement is in your sights.

Steve pulls his cock out and pumps it a few times while you admire the pearlescent precum that’s collected on the tip. Subconsciously you lick your lips, causing him to laugh.

“You’re something else, sweetheart.”

“No you are,” you mutter with a smile.

“Nope, just you,” he shakes his head and rubs his nose against yours while settling lower between your legs, pushing your panties to the side to line himself up with your entrance. You laugh.

“Are we now being argumentative over compliments?” you tease.

“Sounds on brand for us,” he agrees. He slides in with little resistance. Just a slow, agonizing stretch that has you both moaning. Your heels dig into his lower back from where you legs lock around him and he buries his face in your neck.

“Oh my fucking…christ, how are you…” Steve struggles with speech for a second before nipping at your shoulder, making you squirm. “Not sure how I forgot how good you feel.”

“There’s that amnesia,” you joke hesitantly. Not sure if it is too soon to bring up the mean spirited thing you had said earlier but wanting desperately negate the intent you’d had in the first place. Steve’s answering chuckle calms your nerves and you relax, melting down against the leather seat as he begins to move inside of you.

“I think it’s less amnesia and more that I blacked out from how fucking amazing this pussy is.”

“Jesus, Steve,” you admonish, but it holds little weight because with the crescendoing pendulum of his hips Steve is already well on his way to undoing you.

“God, I wasn't exaggerating. You sound really good when you say my name,” Steve says with a moan.

“Mmm, Steve,” you hum. His face pulls away from your neck and he looks down at you with a renewed intensity in his eyes.

“Just one thing missing,” he says. Your brow furrows in confusion.

“What?”

“I meant it when I said I want you to whimper for me.”

Before you can react, Steve has your legs hoisted higher, pushed so that the tops of your thighs are pressed further toward your stomach. You take in a hasty inhale as he begins to pound into you with vigorous intent now.

He’s steady and persistent with it. Rocking into you - pulling in and out and adjusting to hit different angles until he finds the one that has you throwing your head back against the seat, back arching.

“Oh we like that? Yeah?”

“Th-that the royal ‘we’?” you laugh breathlessly, making fun of his word choice.

“Yeah I guess,” he answers, but he’s distracted.

“Makes sense. You are King Steve, after all.”

He rolls his eyes and punishes you by reaching down and pinching your clit, making you spasm.

The windows are way past fogged up by now. The heat coming off your bodies makes the air thick with sex and tension and Steve is sweating above you, but so are you. The wet slap of skin on skin has never sounded better. Your head thrashes from side to side, stopping only when Steve descends down upon you again, kissing up the hollow at the base of your throat and migrating around that sensitive expanse of skin.

“Where is it…” he mutters against your skin under his breath. You barely hear it, as if the statement isn’t intended for you. “It’s here somewhere.”

“What?” you ask, biting your lip and squeezing your eye shut from the sensations. Your hips are slamming up to meet each of his thrusts by now, teetering closer and closer to bliss. Steve’s lips suck and his teeth nibble at different patches of skin up and down your throat, around to the side of your neck.

“There’s a spot here that fucking wrecks you,” he says by way of explanation. You scoff even as your fingers knit through his hair and tug, toes curling.

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” he doubles down. You can practically hear the honeyed smirk on his lips as they continue to kiss and search. “It was a spot that had you convulsing, baby.”

“I don’t seem to remember convulsing,” you contradict, despite the way the coil in your belly tightens impossibly tight. Your eyes are halfway rolled to the back of your head and you’re panting openly. Steve snorts against your shoulder.

“So maybe your memory isn’t as great as you claimed? Huh, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know, all I’m saying is - .” You’re about to continue challenging him when suddenly he’s sucking on a spot just below your left ear and your back shoots right off the seat.

“St-Steve!”

“Bingo,” he gloats against your skin like a fucking nerd before sucking on the spot again. Hard.

“Oh my-oh my god.” Your voice is high pitched. It’s a certifiable whine, tapering off into a whimper. “Steve.”

“There it is baby, that’s all I wanted from you.” His voice is teasing, but it’s considerably huskier than before. He’s close. You can feel him throbbing inside you, though it’s a miracle you can feel anything beyond your own pulsing, aching need. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You can’t respond to him, though, and he knows that. Which is why he doubles down by reaching between you to rub again at your neglected clit. You let out a choking sob which seems to please him even more.

“So god damn good. That’s right.” His words are more rambling now. His face hangs right over yours, eyes staring into your unfocused ones, watching your brow pinch and your lips part in an unending gasping pant. “You’re so pretty. So fucking sweet.”

“I’m…sweet?”

Your words come out garbled and he almost feels like he’s hearing things, but you’re staring up at him with as much focus as you can muster. Expectant. Waiting for a confirmation that you seem fearful might never come. So Steve nods.

“So sweet, baby. Always knew you were,” he affirms through gritted teeth. You roll your hips up into his arrhythmically. Desperate for release now that you feel worthy of it.

His praise breaks you and suddenly you’re a writhing, whimpering mess beneath him, hurtled over the edge with a flurry of spasming muscles. He fucks you through the imact, holding onto you for dear life.

The car must be rocking by now, if it hadn’t already been for a long time. You think in some distant coherent part of your brain about the fact that anyone could have walked out of the grocery store at any point since you first entered the car. A working mom who’d gone out on a late night shopping trip. A broke college kid not unlike yourself who needed a TV dinner. Any of the many people who you had known your entire life growing up in small town Hawkins, Indiana.

But none of that matters with Steve driving into you with abandon. With Steve’s hot, sweating body bearing down on yours, heavy and solid and wanting. He pumps into you long after it’s beneficial to your orgasm, finally chasing his own release. In answer you tighten your grip on him. You go back to meeting him thrust for thrust, even through the achy feeling of overstimulation. He buries his face back in your neck and you coo into his ear things you never would have imagined you’d say - to anyone, let alone Steve Harrington.

You hadn’t exaggerated when you’d said earlier that you didn’t know how to be sweet. You’d never truly settled into anything like sweetness with any previous hookups. Your past ‘boyfriends’ had really only ever been long term flings, with little to no actual vulnerability shared. Sure, you knew how to flirt. You knew how to tease. But usually that was the extent of it. Your inability to meet Steve on his level initially had been part of a deeper problem, one you were probably only just beginning to acknowledge.

But pressed against the leather backseat of his car on a hot summer night, held in his arms, you find it in you to be sweet for Steve.

“So good. Yes Steve. Yes. Please.”

He groans against you and you feel his hips begin to stutter. He’s so close and you want this for him more than you wanted your own release for yourself.

“Please, baby. Come on, Stevie.” Your hand smooths his sweaty hair away from his forehead comfortingly, just as the walls of your pussy squeeze down on him, your pelvis tilting to cradle him down against you.

And at the warmth of your words and your touch Steve cums. His moan is loud and low in your ear and you hold him through the orgasm as it rocks his body, his hips pushing against yours once, twice, a final time before seizing, his hot cum spreading within you.

If the air inside the car had been thick with sex earlier, you can’t even fathom what it’s like now. You feel your nerve endings buzzing as Steve shudders on top of you. Your fingers mooth soothingly on the skin at the base of his neck, helping him come down.

A few minutes pass where there’s nothing but the sound of breathing - his ragged gulping breaths mixed with your more even ones. When he pulls away from your neck to look at you, his eyes are lighter. More clear. He stares at you and the intensity should make you uncomfortable but it doesn’t.

You want to ask him something - anything. What does this mean? What happens next? A nagging feeling in the back of your head reminds you that this almost didn’t happen because you’d almost fucked everything up. Another nagging feeling worms it’s way in too, reminding you that you’d previously convinced yourself that this - he - isn’t something or someone you wanted in the first place.

Your warring thoughts must be visible on your face because his nose nudges yours and he speaks for the first time in a while.

“What’s going on in there?” he asks, eyes darting up to your forehead indicating your mind.

“I -,” you go to speak but your voice is hoarse, so you swallow thickly and go to start again.

Maybe you were going to be honest or maybe you were going to make something up. Even as you opened your mouth to speak you still didn’t know exactly what you planned on saying.

But you never get a chance.

Suddenly there’s a timid knock on the window of the front door. Both of your heads snap up to find the shape of Robin hazy through the foggy glass, body angled away with a hand covering her eyes. Steve sighs and covers his face with his own hand as if just remembering something for the first time.

“Sorry to, um, interrupt guys but Steve…you drove me here and…”

“I thought you said you could handle public transportation Robin. Fuck!”

~*~

Tag list (tbh I’ve lost track of who wanted to be tagged so I am trying my best lmao, will try to add more people later): @millenialcatlady​ @theoncrayjoy​ @sacklerscumrag​ @boomhauer​ @copycatkillerfics​ @theshoehanger​  @zegrasbabyy​ @notafinalgirl​ @amelialupin-black​ @wroteclassicaly​ @peeaachyyyyy​​ @thegirlwiththatolduglybookshelf   @marvelwomen3000​​ @miraclesabound​​ @thatstoomuchman​​

#the shift part 2 #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington/you #stranger things smut #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x you

[riitah]

jjk boyfriend headcanons

featuring:

fushiguro megumi

itadori yuji

geto suguru (*not high school geto, but not villain geto either)

gojo satoru

WORD COUNT: 825

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i was originally gonna put in nanami, but then i sat down to write his and i was like "damn idk anything about this character other than he hates working overtime" 😭😭

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

very "show not tell" with his love for you

hates pda but reluctantly lets you hold hands with him anyway

mutters "i love you" under his breath when he thinks you're asleep (you're not)

his eyes soften when he sees you

beats people up for you

it's so funny when he tries show a little more affection over text because he ends all of his texts with a period

asks nobara for help when the two of you fight

enjoys your company, even if it's just the two of you sitting in silence

secretly likes it when you run your hand through his hair

stares at you a lot

surprisingly touchy in private? like he purposely brushes his hands against yours, hugs you from behind, etc

avoids eye contact and brushes it off when you compliment him (you can see the tips of his ears turning red)

tries not to bother you about his own personal problems but always listens to yours

gets a little jealous when you're giving attention to another guy instead of him

watches the shows you tell him about and tries to get into them

does things you like to do with you even if he hates them

makes you warm soup when you're sick

puts a lot of thought into the gifts he give you, whether it be something symbolic or something he thinks you'd like

remembers every little detail you mention about yourself

puts your life before his own

ITADORI YUJI

loves bombarding you with hugs

usually takes you on dates to places where there are a lot of people

likes taking pictures with and of you

rambles about how amazing you are to his friends

tells his grandpa about you when he visits him :(

sends good morning and goodnight messages every day without fail

absolutely loves cooking for you

buys you guys matching bracelets and keychains

there's something about you falling asleep on his shoulder that makes him so happy

finds something to compliment you about daily

lets you steal his clothes

sometimes he's so oblivious to people flirting with him you want to cry

gets excited about things with you

cries with you when watching sad movies

asks you for a kiss every single day

you can feel your limbs numbing whenever he accidentally falls asleep when you two cuddle and he sleeps like a log so you can't exactly wake him up

pillow fights are a common thing

a very patient teacher when he teaches you how to cook

takes pictures of things he sees that reminds him of you and sends them to you

constantly worries about sakuna hurting you and has thought about distancing himself from you multiple times because of it

GETO SUGURU

wakes you up with forehead kisses. definitely.

opens the car door for you (like the gentleman he is)

gives you handmade gifts that he spent hours on and probably sacrificed sleep for because he wanted them to look perfect for you

likes to tease you (just a little)

pulls you close to his chest when you're crying and comforts you with his sweet words

never lets you talk crap about yourself and will give you a hundred and one reasons as to why you're the complete opposite of how you view yourself if you do

will probably scare anyone who did something to you into giving you a sincere apology (his cursed technique comes in real handy for this one)

whispers sweet nothings in your ear when the both of you are cuddling

gently squeezes your hand when you're nervous

lets you braid his hair

gives you back massages when you're tired and exhausted

cooks for you (breakfast in bed guys)

genuinely encourages and supports you

makes sure you get enough food/water/sleep

shows interest in your interests

will leave you if it was the option that would benefit you the most or hurt you the least

definitely likes to spoil you rotten

will spend thousands of dollars on you even if there's no special occasion

very much a "your wish is my command" kind of guy

also the type of boyfriend to see you struggling to get something from high up and place the thing somewhere even higher

lets you try on his sunglasses and laughs at you when you trip and fall because you can't see anything in them before catching you when your face is literal centimeters away from the ground

enjoys "accidentally" dozing off on you (proceeds to lay his entire weight on your body)

loves it when you praise him

likes laying in your lap while you play with his hair

spoons you every time you guys sleep and refuses to let go in the morning

makes fancy dinner reservations

boasts about you to everyone

sets unflattering/funny photos of you as his wallpaper and lock screen

looks at pictures and videos of you when he's supposed to be working

throws himself onto you whenever he sees you

his hugs crush your ribs

makes you participate in staring contests with him

loves to tease you and see you flustered

says cheesy pick up lines out of nowhere

is always in the background of your video calls

#jjk headcanons #jjk hcs #jjk imagines #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #megumi fushiguro x reader #itadori yuji x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #megumi fushiguro headcanons #itadori yuji headcanons #geto suguru headcanons #gojo satoru headcanons

[peachesofteal]

Idk if this makes sense (and I know it doesn’t really align with the stories) but in my head I kinda see dead disco as being before simple math, like the reason Simon and Johnny have improved with their communication both with each other and with Bun is because they learned from their mistakes with Darling

Like particularly when Simon in SM knew better that to argue with Johnny over text/phone reminded me of the scene in DD where Simon mutes Darling to talk to Johnny

And like they love darling in DD absolutely! but I think there are a lot of similarities between Darling and Bun and the boys in SM seem so much more like healed and know how to handle the situation better? And Simon’s line in SM where he says he’s been through lots of therapy, like you can tell he’s put in tons of work for himself and his loved ones

But also this thought process breaks my heart because I want Darling to get the happy ever after that she deserves :(((

Anyway sorry I’ll stop rambling but I just want you to know I think about your stories daily and am so thankful that you share your talent with us 😙🫶

Screams-

This is really interesting because originally I had this WILD thing cooked up where Penny was Darling’s baby and they had lost Darling (in death) but it felt like way too much (and even as an AU, it felt like stabbing Darling in the back) so I went a different route.

You’re totally right though. The guys in Simple Math have it together a little bit more when it comes to the balance and communication. Simon is incredibly emotionally mature (as you pointed out + he is the parent at home lately, so very dedicated to raising their daughter and learning her feelings and emotions, etc). He’s very secure. This security plays a big role in the future of Simple Math. Johnny is very emotionally intelligent, far more than he is in Dead Disco (which we’ve started to see a bit) and I think that if these characters were not as strong, mentally and emotionally, as they are… Simple Math would not work. I don’t want to spoil it but l do want to remind everyone the guys are morally grey, and I think it will be interesting for whoever reads SM to see how they use that security and intelligence in the future.

#peaches asks #dead disco #simple math

[lelengerine]

but i love you, teaser.

pairing | jaemin x reader

synopsis | for someone who prefers keeping to yourself, just how did you end up in the position of vice president for your class? not to mention, your partner is the sparkling golden boy of the school, na jaemin.

genre | class officers au, a lot of the grumpy x sunshine trope, fluff, angst, mutual pining, reader uses she/her pronouns, jaemin uses a nickname for reader (angel), cursing, more to be added in the full release

wc | 0.5k for the teaser, est. 3k+ for the entire fic!

notes | i'm back and happy birthday to our dearest nana <3 i originally wanted to finish everything so i could post it for his birthday but i think it's better i don't rush the writing for this one,, hence the teaser :D likes and rbs are highly appreciated!

m.list → send in an ask or reply to be added to the taglist!

your breathing turns ragged and heavy as you try keeping up with jaemin’s own feet — your only passing thought wondering how the boy in front of you hasn’t faltered a bit from his brisk jog amidst the empty school hallways.

the two of you were tasked to submit the class attendance folder to the teachers lounge at 7 in the morning, a daily hinderance to someone who’d rather laze around in the classroom to get a couple more minutes of sleep before the first bell would ring, someone in the likes of you.

“na jaemin! god, slow the fuck down.” you finally huff, falling behind in your steps to catch your breath.

your classmate turns around on his heel at the call of his name, “maybe you’re simply too slow, angel.” he flashes an award-winning grin while tightly holding the important folder to submit, his actions doing nothing to ease your exhaustion.

“my bad, this angel doesn’t have two feet in the air to fly whenever she wants.” your reply is enveloped in sarcasm, chest heaving at a calmer pace than a few moments prior.

“you gotta live a little, run a bit more. maybe then, you’ll take off.” the quote-esque words have you grimacing at the thought, believing it to be a sense of false, cringe worthy hope provided by the boy.

“the only thing about to fly is my fist to your face, na.” you grumble, an arm ready to hit the boy with full force as soon as your mind gives confirmation to do so.

jaemin brings a hand over your curled-up fist, halting your swing before it even happens. “nuh, uh. you wouldn’t want to risk that on your stellar school record, would you?” he tuts with a knowing look on his face, “how ironic for an angel, indeed.”

“you’re the only one that calls me that anyways.” you retract your hand back down slowly after being flustered by the mention of your student record, still eyeing the boy in front of you — the bright expression on his face remaining in tact.

“it’s because i think it suits you.” he simply puts it, turning his back on you to continue walking towards the teachers lounge.

“and how exactly does that make sense?” you inquire, trailing him from behind, and the boy knows he’s garnered your attention for the second time today.

“why should i trouble myself and explain it further?” he returns the query back in your hands, still looking ahead of him. “do i get something in return?”

“that’s just childish, na. we’re seniors.” you remind him with the roll of your eyes, somewhat glad he couldn’t see you from his position.

“hey, i don’t do things for free.”

“you do class president tasks for free.” you quickly point out, the familiar door that leads the the teachers lounge finally coming into view at the end of the hallway.

“that’s rather inevitable, isn’t it? being in this position just means its part of my responsibilities.” he shrugs, slowing down his movement now that he sees the destination ahead.

“you’re just being boring.” you groan in protest, detesting how the boy is trying to be difficult with you.

he turns around once more, albeit much more abrupt than the first instance, making you almost bump into his back side. “then how’s this? i’ll tell you the reason during the upcoming school festival.”

“fine.” you reply, straightening your clothes out after that brief moment of getting frazzled. “you can’t take that back now, na.”

“wouldn’t dream of it, angel.”

#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct angst #nct dream angst #jaemin #jaemin fluff #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles

[pandorascrush]

HUNTING YOU

CHAPTER III : PLEASE

ALL WORK IS MY ORIGINAL WORK!!! 

SUMMARY: The reader is a part of the Metkayina clan. She couldn't help herself as she watched and wanted Neytiri and Jake. Maybe it was because they were the first forest people she had ever seen. But she wanted them like a hunter wants its prey. Little did she know that they had also wanted her and were willing to hunt her if that was the only way they could have her.

 WARNINGS: nsfw(18+), smut, minors dni, clit play, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, avatar/na'vi!jake, dilf!jake, fem!bodied reader, metkayina!reader, creampie, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dry humping, pet names (babygirl, dirty girl), poly relationship

PAIRING: jake sully x neytiri, jake sully x reader, neytiri x reader, jake sully x reader x neytiri

NOTES: My song suggestion for this part is… Cherry by Lana del Rey <3   

➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵

The first time you had seen Jake and Neytiri was when they had decided to fly their ikran’s above you mauri. They had been there for two days, but you were so busy with your duties that you couldn't bother yourself to go meet the forest people. From the news you got from your fellow na’vi women, they were just a family looking for a home so you thought nothing of them. The sun was setting and you had been weaving some baskets that you decided to make for Ronal for her medicine and herbs all day. You were crouched when you heard the cries of the ikran and couldn't help but look up.

At first all you saw was a blur of dark blue shadows that contrasted your seafoam blue. But as they landed on the ground you couldn't help but be mesmerized with the sight before you. Neytiri jumped off first, her strong thighs flexing and as she walked towards you Jake trailed behind. Her golden irises that contrasted perfectly against her dark blue skin, drew you in like a moth to a flame, you couldn't help but see into her. You couldn't help but feel her eyes drawing you in, as if you were tied by a cord being pulled towards her. Even as Jake spoke to you introducing themselves you couldn't bring yourself to break eye contact, the wearines behind her eyes transforming into curiosity. That very moment you had decided that you wanted that cord to pull you in as far as it would go, you would let it pull you to the very bottom of the ocean if that is what it took. From that day forward Neytiri also found herself drawn to you, visiting your mauri almost daily, needing to see you as you brought her comfort.

“His eyes are too small.” You all but pointed out matter of factly thinking about Jake. Neytiri couldn't help but crack a shy smile as it reminded her of the day she first took Jake to her home tree.

“His eyes are small, but he still sees as well as any hunter.” She said in a confident and proud tone.

“Of course he does, he made you his mate after all.” You couldn't help but say as you admired her beauty. You couldn't help but feel this small flame of attraction towards her start flickering at the base of your belly. Your tail swishes in curiosity and excitement, as you noticed hers do the same.

The kiss with Neytiri turned that small flicker of desire in your belly transforms into a fire. Even after fucking yourself infront of them as they attempted to hide wasnt enough to put out the fire. You had to see her again, feel her again. You wanted her lips against yours, and her hands in your hair pulling you closer. Of course you wanted Jake as well, but Neytiri was the delicious burn you craved now. You had to have her now.

Neytiri had come alone this time to visit your mauri. After her and Jake confirmed that you definitely wanted them, they knew they had to approach you one at a time instead. You were more confident in your approach with Neytiri, but you challenged Jake whenever he approached you. In order to set their plan in motion they had decided that Neytiri had to have you first, to establish and form the foundation of what is to come.

You had been inside busying yourself with baskets as you heard the familiar cry of her ikran as it landed close to your home. Like a rope pulling you, you immediately dropped what you did and bolted outside. As you watched her walk with confident steps towards you, you stood there ready for whatever she would throw your way. As she got closer you moved in on her, closing the gap between the two.

“Neytiri…” you all but whispered as she came to a stop in front of you. You couldn't help but lift your hands to grab onto her arms as you pulled her in resting your forehead onto hers.

“I cannot stop thinking about you y/n.” She lets out in a breathy tone. With those words you drop your hands to her waist and pull her chest to chest, nuzzling your nose into her neck as she takes advantage and nuzzles her nose into your hair, taking in your intoxicating scent. You trail your right hand up from her waist over her breast and let it rest over her heart, as she drops one hand from your arm down to the center of your loincloth and she lets her free hand rest on your heart. No words are needed as you meet each other in a rushed almost desperate kiss. When your lips meet it’s as if your breathing in air for the very first time, and as you deepen the kiss, you let both of your hands roam to her breasts, caressing them as one of her hands reaches under your loincloth and the other grips your neck pulling you closer deepening the kiss. Your mouths meld into one another as you both parted your lips allowing your tongues inside. With her free hand, she slips her fingers under your loincloth and starts rubbing up and down your slit, slowly at first as if trying to memorize the feeling of you. As she feels around she finds your clit in slow circles and you couldn't help but let a moan escape your lips.

“Neytiri please.” You all but plead for her to touch you more but she suddenly pulls away, making you suck in a breath you didn't know you were holding in.

“Come with me, I want to show you something.” She says as she pulls you backwards towards her ikran. You stop in front of it as she gently grabs onto your shoulders and gives them a light squeeze indicating for you to get on. As you climb on, she grabs the back of your thighs giving you support, but you felt as she let her hands linger on your thighs giving them a needy squeeze. She climbed on behind you, scooting up so close to you that you could feel the heat of her cunt radiating on your backside. She slid an arm onto your waist gripping you tight, and with the other her ikran.

“Hold on.” She whispered into your ear as she trailed kisses down your neck, making you throw your head back in order to contain yourself from moaning. You did the same, with one hand you grabbed onto her ikran, and with the other you grabbed onto her thigh squeezing it as you lifted off into the air. 

You have ridden an ilu and skimwing, but an ikran was a new experience. The way you two flew so high up in the air made your heart soar. That and the fact that with every movement of going upwards, the two of you would involuntarily thrust your hips into one another. Not that you mind the movement, it just added more fuel to the fire you felt burning in the pit of your belly. The small thrusts, her breath in your ear, the weight of her on your back, and the squeezing of thighs just added to your desire.

You finally landed onto a small clearing in the forest that surrounds the outskirts of the reef. Far enough to give you two the privacy you oh so desired. As soon as you landed, Neytiri jumped off first, extending her hand towards you to help you jump off. Once you were on your own two feet you walked a ways away, and ended up in a clearing with enough privacy to make you two feel comfortable enough.

“I have been watching you, as long as you have been watching us y/n.” She said as she circled you, watching you like a predator. She came to a stop behind you and started caressing your body from behind, letting her fingers roam and explore your body as if trying to memorize all your dips and curves.

“And I have been desiring you from the moment I saw you, Neytiri.” You told her as you reached for her and stopped her in front of you. With both hands you brought her face to yours and met each other with a fiery kiss. 

Hands roaming one another, needy and desiring each other until you couldn't take it anymore. Wanting dominance you parted her lips with your own lips and slipped your tongue into her mouth, to which she immediately responded by slipping hers inside your mouth. While your tongues danced for dominance you slipped your hands behind her back and untied her top which you let drop to the ground. She did the same and untied your top, exposing you to her. You broke the kiss and trailed kisses down her throat finally stopping at her breasts, and immediately took one of her nipples into your mouth. 

“Yes ma y/n, please do not stop.” She moaned and intertwined her hands in your hair as you began to suck on her nipples. While you sucked on one nipple, you toyed with her free nipple in your other hand. Her moans became louder spurring you on as you alternated between sucking and toying with her nipples. You felt her hands lower and reach down, squeezing your own breasts in her hands. 

“I need to taste you Neytiri.” You all but declared as you lowered yourself onto your knees. Once you were on your knees you looked up to and watched her with lust filled eyes as you took off her loincloth. Once it was off, without breaking eye contact you lifted her left over your shoulder and sent her smirk as you dove in. With one hand on her butt you used your other hand to spread her lips as you gave one experimental lick. 

“Oh yes y/n, please don't stop.”She moaned, that's all it took for you to lose all control as you began licking her pussy. With your tongue you began to seek out her bundle of nerves, and you began sucking on it as soon as you found it. As you sucked on her clit, you used one hand to slip one finger inside stretching her out. You slowly began to thrust, and as you felt her clench you added another. Her moans became a song you never wanted to end as you sucked on her clit and fingered her. Her legs began to shake as soon as your fingers caressed the spongy spot inside of her. With your name on her lips she bucked her hips and grinded her pussy into your mouth, unable to stop herself from cumming all over your face. As she clenched around you, you slowed the thrusts of your fingers allowing her cum to drip all over your face and down your hand as you let her come down from her high. You lapped up every single drop of her cum, not wanting to let any drop go to waste. You slowly looked up and she began caressing your face lovingly as she sent you an adoring smile.

“It is my turn to taste you.” She said as she crouched to your level. She pushed you back onto the floor gently while she knelt in front of you. She spread your legs wide, kneeling in between them as she began to take off your loin cloth. Once you were completely naked for her, she couldn't help but sit back on her heels, and observe you for a moment. As she explored your body with her eyes, you imagine hearing the cry of a very familiar ikran, but you were too filled with desire to even care.

As if a switch went off inside her, she launched herself onto you, letting her body cover your own as she began a lust filled kiss. She slipped her tongue inside  your mouth, tasting herself on her tongue spurring her on even more. She began a trail of kisses down your mouth, between the valley of your breasts, and over your belly, finally landing where you've wanted her for so long. She spread your legs open for her, and began licking up and down your cunt without stopping. She explored your pussy with her tongue and as soon as she found your clit, she began sucking on it gently at first. She wanted to take her time exploring you, memorizing you, but the sounds of your moans made her lose all control. She began sucking on your clit, and slipped one finger in you slowly thrusting. As she saw you cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples, she added another digit.

“Please ma Neytiri, don't stop.” You all but cried out, wanting to feel that sweet release. This encouraged her to lift both of your legs over her shoulders as she began to devour you. With this new angle she began to fuck your pussy with her tongue and she slipped one hand free, and lifted it to rub tight circles on your clit. Your legs began to shake as your wanton moans began to echo all over the forest. With her tongue thrusting in and out of your pussy, and her fingers rubbing tight circles over your clit, you came clenching over her tongue. Your moans as you came only spur her on, causing her to start thrusting into the forest floor, trying to find some friction to find some release. As you begin to come down from your high, she starts to climb over you, her mouth finding yours and you begin to kiss, tasting one another.

“I have an idea.” You whisper into her ear as you push her back to lay on the ground. You hover over her hips, and she reaches out to grip your hips and she pulls you down, your pussy landing over hers. Dominating you, she slowly begins to grind your pussy against hers, this new found friction making you gasp for air in between moans. You both start grinding harder, both of your clits begin to feel overstimulated as you grind into each other. Moans spill out from the both of you, as you feel the wetness from you both pooling and dripping down your cunts. You can feel her close to cumming but you suddenly turn around. You end up with Neytiri laying below you, as you hover above her. She seems to understand what you want to do as she pulls your hips back making your pussy hover over her  face, and you end up with your face over her pussy. You're the first one to make a move and from this new angle you begin to lick her pussy, spreading her lips with one hand. You feel her tail wrap around one of your thighs as she uses both of her hands to spread your lips and shoves her tongue inside of your pussy. You’re grinding on her face while you begin to finger fuck her, when you decide to look up sensing that you’re being watched. And that's when you see him, Jake hiding behind some trees with one hand on his cock, and another leaning against a tree. He has his head thrown back and you can see how heavy his balls are with cum from here.

Neytiri told Jake of her plan as soon as they got back to their mauri. They had to pick a night where the kids would be busy and they would be able to slip away. Neytiri wanted both her and Jake to have you at the same time, but something told Jake that deep down inside, y/n wanted him to wait his turn. He also couldn't deprive his mate from having a taste of you, so he pushed the idea on Neytiri, insisting that this would be the best way to go about having you.

Jake had trailed behind the both of you slowly, as planned. He tried being as quiet as he could with his ikran, not wanting to startle or interrupt the two of you. Once he landed he went around the clearing where you two were, and he found the perfect place to view you from. It was behind some trees, not too far or secluded, but perfect enough to see the both of you. You two had already began fucking by the time he was able to get himself situated.

He could see you, straddling Neytiri as you began to assert and take back dominance over her. He saw as you lowered your pussy onto Neytiri’s face, and you lowered your mouth to Neytiri’s cunt. He couldn't help but move his loincloth to the side, and he began stroking his hard cock. He began squeezing from the base, moving his hand over his shaft as he watched you both devour each other's pussies. Watching as your face was filled with Neytiri’s wetness and cum, motivated him to spit in his other hand, wanting more friction as he jerked his cock. Now with his cock full of spit and with precum leaking from his tip, his grip over his cock became harder and his movements faster, causing him to lean on the tree next to him. Hearing the moans spilling from your mouth caused him to throw his head back, imagining it was your hand jerking his cock and not his own. He needed more, so he pulled his other hand down to cup his balls. With one hand he jerked his cock, and the other he gave a few hard tugs on his balls. He opened his eyes to see you both grinding harder against each other's faces, by your cries he could just tell you were both close to cumming again. He had already had your moans running through his mind, but he did not expect to hear what you said next.

“Oh Neytiri yes, yes, make me cum. I need you-you and Jake.” You all but cried out cumming all over her face again. He wanted to sear your cries of pleasure into his mind forever, he had to lean his back against the tree, his want and desire becoming too much, so much so that he had to use both hands to pump his throbbing cock. Your declaration along with Neytiri’s cry as she came made him cum all over his hands with a choked out cry, his cumming spilling down his hands over his thighs. He panted leaning against the tree panting as he came down from his high needing a motte to regulate his breathing. He cracked open his eyes and looked over to you, watching as you and Neytiri laid next to one another with legs intertwined. With this view of the both of you, he knew he needed to make you his next. You will become his.

Knowing that Jake is watching you only spurs you on even more. You grind your pussy on her face even harder, making sure her tongue reaches deep inside of you as you hook two fingers in her cunt and start thrusting. As you grind down harder, her chin starts rubbing against your clit, creating a delicious friction that causes moans to spill from behind your lips. You latch onto her clit, and begin to suck relentlessly as you pump her faster with your fingers. She can feel you clenching around her tongue, and she decides to rub tight hard circles on your clit as she thrusts her tongue in and out of your pussy. Her tongue and fingers become too much and you cum with a cry, uttering words you know will reach not only Neytiri’s ears, but Jake’s.

“Oh Neytiri yes, yes, make me cum. I need you-you and Jake.” You all but cry out loud as you gasp for air, your pussy clenching around her tongue as your cum wets her face. You want more of her taste so you thrust your fingers faster, making sure to pass over the spongy spot inside of her as you suck on her clit. You continue to grind against her face, drowning out her moans with your pussy as she cums clenching around your fingers as you continue to suck on her clit and you go to lap up all of her cum. You're both panting, and you momentarily lay your face on the inside of her thigh, catching your breath. Slowly you lift off of her and go to lay next to her, pulling her in as you both lay on your sides, intertwining your legs between one another. You taste each other all over your mouths, and you feel the cum from both of you pooled between your thighs.

“Ma y/n, I can never go a day without you from now on.” She says as she stares into your eyes and caresses your face.

“Then have me Neytiri, I am yours to have.” You declare as you smile and bring her in for a soft kiss. She smiles into the kiss but pulls away slightly as she stares into you for a moment. 

“Ma Jake.” She says softly, but it is all she needs to say as you understand what she means.

“I will have him, and he will have me. We will have each other from now on.” Neytiri can't help the smile that forms on her face. Being mated with Jake brought her to the next level, but knowing that she will now have you and Jake makes her feel as if she will burst at the seams from joy. You can't help but feel happiness brewing at the pit of your stomach at the prospect of having a future with Neytiri, and Jake. You will have him, and he will have you. It is time that both hunters catch their prey.

➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵➵

OMG THERE IT IS!!! You’re girl finally got some well deserved action!!! The reason I decided to split up the reader going with Jake and Neytiri, is because I do want people to understand that they have to develop their own relationships with one another. I want the reader to have an established relationship and connection with each one, and I feel like this chapter establishes that, and it gets you excited for the next chapter to come. After this chapter there are probably two parts left but I think I will have bonus chapters just for fun OR I'll post head canons of what their life is like being together as a trio. Down below I tagged anyone who asked to be tagged but if i somehow missed you, lemme know! As always, please leave some feedback and enjoy!

TOODLES <3

TAG LIST : @neteyamforlife @fanboyluvr @n1ght5h4d3-24 @itssomeonereading @myheartfollower @nyahhhsstuff @yeosxxx @alohastitch0626 @neytirishottie @whydo-theyhate-rey @cleverzonkwombatsludge @iikatsukii @slutforsmut4ever @acorspee @kyber4crystal @jiminsthickthighs @frfavatar @tulken-toruk

#jake sully x you #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x reader #jake sully x oc #jake sully #jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x neytiri x reader #jake sully x neytiri x oc #jake sully smut #jake sully fic #jake sully drabble #neytiri x jake #jake x neytiri #neytiri x reader #neytiri x fem!reader #neytiri x reader x jake #neytiri x you #neytiri x y/n #neytiri smut #avatar smut #avatar 2009 #james cameron avatar #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #poly couple #poly imagines #poly romance #poly relationship #metkayina #metkayina reader

[nilolol30]

ello, friend

i come to ask if you can do a oneshot of a redson x reader where the reader was cursed that every night they would turn into a songbird.

(yay I'm slowly getting better at punctuation I think! If not feel free to give tips! Also this is mostly implied GN reader hope that's alright!)

Redson asked if you'd like to spend the night at his house of course in the moment you agreed without any thought I mean you do get along well with his parents but you forgot your...unfortunate circumstance.

You were going to tell him soon but soon just became sooner than you thought.

You kept three alarms for when it's going to happen one is set an hour and a half second for one hour and third is half an hour until your transformation, you can't be too careful.

It was well after dinner you and Redson were getting ready for bed in his room, you were brushing your teeth while Redson sat upright on the bed finishing up on the last detail on his schedule this week.

Your phone was on the table next to him and the first alarm went off the name of it was 'an hour and a half till it starts' very simple, he assumed it was a reminder for a show or movie you planned to watch.

When you walked out of the bathroom he informed you "Ah your alarm went off dear" it took you a second to realize and immediately you remembered you haven't gotten around telling Redson about the curse.

"Oh uh so Red there's something I should actually tell you" noticing how nervous you suddenly got Immediately he turned off his own devices to give you his full attention, you take a seat next to him on the bed.

And then you begin to explain at first you tried to sugar coat it but then the more you talked the more you began to ramble and then you started spiraling hoping he wasn't upset you haven't told him earlier.

Noticing your spiral Redson gently placed his hand on your shoulder "Dear it's okay something like this could be a sensitive topic, I may not know the origin of this curse but I'm not upset if I was that would be idiotic" a smile crept onto your face.

You put your hand on top of his just as you were about to speak your alarm went off again 'an hour' short and to the point honestly you didn't bother to come up with proper names for them.

Redson leaned towards the bedside table to grab your phone and handed it to you, you put your alarm on snooze "Thanks though...I kinda expected more of a reaction though" Red laughed "Please you forget I'm a demon seeing people with all kinds of curses are just a daily thing I see."

You nodded and both of you sat in comfortable silence, Red though looked like he had something on his mind after a bit "Something wrong?" He gave you a comforting smile.

"No I was just thinking is there anything you need? Like a bird hammock?" Surprised at the question you just burst into laughter Red joining in "No no I'll be fine I'll just chill on the table and wait it out."

Then Redson asked a few more questions, how long do you stay transformed? Are you sure you don't need any items to make it more comfortable? Will you need something to eat? Should he make you a nest?

You answered each question and by then end of it Redson gave a final nod like he was making the final note in his head "Okay then, tomorrow I'll look into finding a cure" with a small laugh you placed your hand on his cheek.

"I won't stop you but don't let it be your main focus okay? It's just a small inconvenience" placing a hand over yours as he pushed himself into your hand he nods "very well dear"

Finally Redson removed his glasses and put his hair down you stayed sitting up your last alarm going off but immediately you set it to snooze as Red got under the blankets "Won't you be laying down?" You shook your head "Tried that once trust me staying above while transforming is better."

You expected Redson to fall asleep after that but he stayed awake reading from a book he kept on the table choosing not to comment any further you both wait not too long when Redson glanced away from you for a split second the flash of light though immediately got his attention and he shut the book as he looked over.

And he saw you, a small songbird he set the book away as he continued to stare amazed you hopped in place for a bit but flew over to his free hand as he admired your feathers.

He smiled "Still as beautiful like you always are" he set your pillow flat so you can have a soft surface to sleep you give him a small chitter of tweets and flew to the pillow you hopped for a bit again and got comfortable.

Redson turned off the lights and laid down.

"I'll see you tomorrow my dear, Sweet dreams."

#lego monkie kid x reader #monkie kid x reader #lmk red son x reader #lmk x reader

[youryurigoddess]

A. Z. Fell & Co. bookshop and its statues, part 2

Welcome to the second part of my insane deep dive into Aziraphale’s world of slightly outdated decor, golden-colored trinkets, and their ostentatiously Greek (especially for a representative of an originally Judeo-Christian mythology) symbolism. As a short recap, the last installment covered six pieces in the northern and central sections of the bookshop plus a plot-important medal previously displayed on one of them, but currently left with the other bibelots on the bookseller’s desk. We’ll start right there, where we previously left off.

While a lot of the bookshop action plays out in the circle between the formerly discussed statues, its office part is especially close to Aziraphale himself. As the titular Guardian of the Eastern Gate, the angel consciously spends most of his time in this small space in the Eastern part of the bookshop, confined to his desk or reading stand. This means that the decorations of this area have more personal significance and are most probably used as daily reminders for him to keep his thoughts and priorities on track as much as provide pleasant distraction from the weary eyes.

The two windowsill figures of the Art Deco dancers from S1 were replaced by a somewhat similar set of twin statues by Ernest Rancoulet called Retour des Bois (Return from the Woods). Depicting a young woman accompanied by a putto, Aphrodite and Eros, frolicking in a dance through the woods and meadows. This bucolic fantasy with Aphrodite makes some sense when we consider how Aziraphale’s personal love story started (and will presumably end) in a garden, but let’s deep deeper into its protagonists. Or protagonist, actually, because what else can be told about Love itself?

Eros as the god of Desire is usually presented in art as a handsome young man, though in some appearances he is a boy full of mischief, ever in the company of his mother. It is usually under the guidance of Aphrodite when he employs his signature bow and arrows to make mortals and immortals alike to fall in love. His role in myths is mostly complementary, as a catalyst for other mythological figures and their stories, with the notable exception being the myth of Eros and Psyche, the story of how he met and fell in love with his wife.

In short, they are the original star-crossed lovers from entirely separate worlds who meet and fall in love by divine happenstance, only to be separated by Psyche’s family. Convinced by her sisters that her husband is, in fact, a vile winged serpent, Psyche breaks his one rule and the attempt to kill the monster leads her to falling in passionate love with him. Eros flees and Psyche wanders the Earth searching for him and succumbing to a series of impossible tasks reminding of those from the Scarborough Fair ballad or the more modern fairytale about Cinderella. She ultimately fails, but is saved by the healed Eros, granted immortality and the status of his equal, after which they can properly marry with a huge wedding banquet, a real feast of the gods.

In the Christian Middle Ages, the union of Eros and Psyche started to symbolize the temptation and fall of the human soul, driven by the sexual curiosity and lust from the Love’s domain, mirroring the original sin and the expulsion from Eden.

Oh, and their Latin names? Cupid and Anima. C+A.

We’ll get back to them in a minute.

According to unnecessary but extensive research, the two mid-century table lamps standing over the desk were most probably produced in France after another unspecified 19th century sculptor like the example above, although this particular putti design can be also found in the so called Hollywood regency style of the same time period. The putto is holding onto a cornucopia, a classical antiquity symbol of plenty, which then continues to the bulb section.

The cornucopia is an easily recognizable symbol of abundance, fertility and, to lesser extant, peace and good fortune. Since the horn is phallic-shaped, but hollow at the same time, it combines intimate imagery of both male and female character at the same time, which further ties into notions of fertility. In its role as a fertility symbol, the cornucopia is also usually associated with Demeter, whose small statue is also standing on the bookshop’s counter. Which seems like a recurring theme.

I saw multiple theories about Aziraphale’s centerpiece, but somehow the truth proved to be much less significant than previously thought. This roman soldier, possibly a centurion, driving his two horses in a highly decorated chariot is made from a marble powder resin composite and takes the most visible place in the Eastern part of the bookshop even though it’s seemingly one of the newest additions to Aziraphale’s collection — its author, Lorenzo Toni, was born in 1938 and became a sculpture master by the 1970s. 

At first glance, the parallel to the Marly Horses seems obvious and we could leave it basically at what was written recently on Crowley and Aziraphale’s dynamics. But here is where instead of commenting on the antique sculpture that seems to be the inspiration behind this piece or the many intricacies of Roman chariot racing I’ll do something completely unhinged — i.e., play my Greek philosophy card.

In the dialogue "Phaedrus ”, Plato presents the allegory of the chariot to explain the tripartite nature of the human soul or — you guessed it — psyche. The charioteer is the man’s Reason, the rational part that loves truth and knowledge, which should rule over the other parts of the soul through the use of logic. One of the horses, the white one, is man’s Spirit, a motivated part which seeks glory, honor, recognition and victory. The second horse, the black one, represents man’s Appetite — an ever so hungry part which desires food, drink, material wealth and physical intimacy.

And the fun part? This triad is established to analyze the madness of love. In a classical Greek context, that is not between a man and a woman, but erastes and eromenos:

The charioteer is filled with warmth and desire as he gazes into the eyes of the one he loves. The good horse is controlled by its sense of shame, but the bad horse, overcome with desire, does everything it can to go up to the boy and suggest to it the pleasures of sex. The bad horse eventually wears out its charioteer and partner, and drags them towards the boy; yet when the charioteer looks into the boy's face, his memory is carried back to the sight of the forms of beauty and self-control he had with the gods, and pulls back violently on the reins. As this occurs over and over, the bad horse eventually becomes obedient and finally dies of fright when seeing the boy's face, allowing the lover's soul to follow the boy in reverence and awe. The lover now pursues the boy. As he gets closer to his quarry, and the love is reciprocated, the opportunity for sexual contact again presents itself. If the lover and beloved surpass this desire they have won the "true Olympic Contests"; it is the perfect combination of human self-control and divine madness, and after death, their souls return to heaven.

And such a perfect combination of the motifs already introduced to us by the two Eros statues and the Head of the Victorious Athlete.

Aziraphale might be a titular Companion to Owls (or, to be precise, the companion to one particular Nite Owl), but he had also made sure to have at least one owl keeping him company. And of course, the owl of Athena (who was interestingly both a bird and a snake goddess) is an absolutely conclusion here as the universal symbol of wisdom and knowledge in the Western culture, but it can’t be that easy, right?

In the Bible, you'll find that owls often symbolize something unclean and forbidden, as well as desolation, loneliness, and destruction. This symbolic significance is pointed out in Leviticus 11:16-17 and Deuteronomy 14:11-17 where owls are mentioned among the birds not to be eaten. Owls were considered unclean most likely because they are predatory creatures who eat raw flesh with the blood still in it, and that was an even bigger food safety concern for the biblical nomads than to us today.

Owls are also among the wild predators that have long dwelled in the desert lands and abandoned ruins of Egypt and the Holy Land. Both Isaiah and Zephaniah speak of owls nesting in ruined wastelands to paint symbolic images of barrenness, emptiness, and utter desolation. In Psalm 102:3–6, the owl symbolizes the loneliness of the psalmist’s tortured heart:

For my days vanish like smoke; my bones burn like glowing embers. My heart is blighted and withered like grass; I forget to eat my food. In my distress I groan aloud and am reduced to skin and bones. I am like a desert owl, like an owl among the ruins. I lie awake; I have become like a bird alone on a roof. All day long my enemies taunt me; those who rail against me use my name as a curse. For I eat ashes as my food and mingle my drink with tears because of your great wrath, for you have taken me up and thrown me aside. My days are like the evening shadow; I wither away like grass. But you, Lord, sit enthroned forever; your renown endures through all generations.

It’s a devastating, but still beautiful piece that deals with the feeling of utter rejection, the ultimate bad breakup of the relationship between a human and their God. And this… simply didn’t happen between God and Aziraphale, not even during his Job job. The angel had always considered Her love and ineffability as a given, even when the whole Heavenly Host was against him during the Non-Apocalypse. His allegiance stayed with God, not necessarily Her angels. Which brings us yet again to the motion of Crowley as the owl.

The angel and the demon are the companions to each other's loneliness, but Aziraphale’s needs seem significantly bigger than their Arrangement that he even considered a wooden substitute protectively hovering over him 24/7. He seems to be the one who is the loneliest and most rejected.

Oh, and if you think that putting a small bronze statue of a putto with a bronze putto-shaped candleholder right behind it (visible on the filing cabinet in the bottom right corner) is already a stretch, let me show you what’s on the other side of that wall.

Just like before the bookshop fire, the famous sink in the small backroom is adorned with a perfectly kitschy white plaster sculpture of The Two Cherubs, a small part of a larger painting by Raphael (the painter, not the Archangel) titled Sistine Madonna. In the painting the Madonna, holding Christ Child and flanked by Saint Sixtus and Saint Barbara, stands on clouds before dozens of obscured putti, while two distinctive winged putti rest on their elbows beneath her. with bombastic side eyes and clearly unspoken, but very controversial thoughts about the whole scene and their role in it.

With an attitude like that, there’s no wonder that the putti have inspired some legends. According to one, the original cherubs were children of one of his models they would come in to watch. Struck by their posture, he added them to the painting exactly as he saw them. Another story says that Raphael was inspired by two street urchins looking wistfully into the window of a baker's shop.

The Germans implicitly tied this painting into a legend of their own, "Raphael's Dream." Arising in the last decades of the 18th century, the legend — which made its way into a number of stories and even a play — presents Raphael as receiving a heavenly vision that enabled him to present his divine Madonna. It is claimed the painting has stirred many viewers, and that at the sight of the canvas some were transfixed to a state of religious ecstasy akin to Stendhal Syndrome (including one of Freud's patients).

Their big, seemingly cherubic companion doesn’t seem to have a specific provenance, but what’s left of his limbs might suggest that it could be an infant Jesus as well as another putto. But honestly who knows at this point.

On the other side of the same room, right at the door leading to the big backroom, there are two lamps with Auguste Moreau’s Young Lovers, a bronze sculpture depicting a courting couple on the verge of a physical embrace, holding garlands of roses and hiding under some old vines. Which aligns perfectly with the beloved romcom trope of a rain shelter leading to sudden love realizations, as well as Crowley choosing this part of the bookshop to have a word with his angel in private and then offering his advice on anything related to human love. No wonder that the angel looked at him like that.

This statue carries with it more than one allegorical interpretation, intentional or not. Arguably the most obvious one is the myth of Eros and Psyche, one we already covered in this post. But similarly to his earlier sculpture, Eros also serves here as an allegory for nature and the return to the natural state itself. Like Adam in Eden, he's unclothed and symbolically crowned as a ruler of his domain. Psyche, enamored with his confidence, is about to take her own leap of faith as her fabric restraints fall away. One could say that she's tempted to follow him into nature, deep into the garden of love.

And with that exact thought I will leave you today, dear reader. Through this analysis we learnt many things, among them two significant facts about Aziraphale: firstly, he’s an utter and incorrigible romantic, and secondly, a hoarder. Forget Crowley’s souvenirs — the amount of this angel’s statues is something else. And it isn’t even his hyperfixation!

#yuri is doing her thing #good omens #good omens 2 #go2 #aziraphale #crowley #c+a #crowley needs a hug #aziraphale is a hoarder #ineffable idiots #ineffable husbands #ineffable divorcés #a. z. fell #a. z. fell & co. #aziraphale’s bookshop #bookshop statues #statues update #set design #the good omens crew is unhinged #raphael #greek mythology #bible fanfiction

[demonslayedher]

Not-very-spoilery thoughts on the movie release of Pillar Training (+SSV conclusion)

Behind a cut anyway just in case!

--Very nice to hear familiar background music brought back--Yuukaku themes when Uzui & his wives appear, Mitsuri's "Koi Kogare" BGM when she has a good batch of lines, Giyuu's BGM as he's like, "bye"

--I am very happy with the new OP, both sound and imagery-wise.

--One very short clip in particular made me, a fanfic writer, very very happy, but then there was more gratuitous focus that reminded me of another one of my best fanfics. The rewards of writing fic as closely based on canon as I could get them gives me the satisfaction of feel liking like canon-based imagery honors my fics by extension.

--Speaking of imagery in general, Ufotable is finding lots of ways to try to harp on the idea that everyone's wishes to destroy demons find their accumulation in Tanjiro, the Sun Breath user and first person in centuries to unlock the Mark. It is perhaps a little clumsy at times, but hey, that's a theme I like in this series.

--I was sad that Suma sounded so different, and had to look up afterward if she still had the same seiyuu. She does, but I think they might have given her totally different vocal direction so that she wouldn't sound too similar to Mitsuri

--Japanese crowds tend to be very quiet at movie theaters, but people could not contain their giggles at many of Mitsuri's lines

--I had the honor of sitting next to a huuuuuuuge fangirl who before the moving was saying stuff to her friends like, "(Hanae) Natsuki-san was at USJ the other day, and since it's a VR ride, you know, you have to wear the goggles, and I think, what if I wear the pair that he wore??? You know?? Our faces??? Would be so close?????" and then at the review of previous seasons at the beginning of the show, she started crying the instant the Mugen Ressha part started. Not loud crying, but crying.

--You can tell everyone was waiting for the "welcome back" scene, and although I thought Zenitsu would steal the show in that scene, it was indeed Nezuko. In the seiyuu greeting that was broadcast across all Japanese theaters on the opening day, Shimono-san noted that he thinks the audio was turned down on his performance of that scene. I think it was probably was too.

--So much happy daily life in this episode. If you have any friends who complained about last year's theater showing being a let-down because it was just regular anime episodes instead of a Mugen Train style movie, please tell them to just sit this one out and spare us their complaints. Most of this showing was just Tanjiro having a nice time after having a panic attack over Nezuko (oh, and like, killing Upper Moon Four, that too).

--Shinobu's hair seems distinctly longer. Giyuu's hair seems distinctly fluffier.

--Ufotable has put a lot of touches into humanizing Amane

--I wish Ufotable would stop trying to drive the "Zenitsu thinks Aoi is happy to see him (just because Aoi is a girl)" point. First off, yes, Zenitsu being a creep to girls is played up a bit in the anime. Second, the first fanbook states that the only kind of girl who is not so much his type is the Aoi-type.

--Also, on the promo art, I like the design they gave Shinobu's sword, but that's ignoring the fact that the four engraved kanji characters are on either side. Go ahead, Ufotable, hire me as your canon double-checker. EDIT: Oh wait, that is its sheath. Lovely, carry on.

--That said, the original filler they gave us? Gold star. Excellent. So happy with it. One... well, two tiny nitpicks that don't bother me much but stating it here would spoil it.

--One more non-spoilery thing to say about that filler: the people at Ufotable were probably like, "our fans are nerds. We already give them this, this, this, and that to nerd over. You know what else they are probably nerds for? Yeah. Let's give them that." Thank you, Ufotable. This nerd accepts and loved it.

--Tiny Nezuko filler as they set the stage talking about Muzan is probably looking for her? LOVE THAT TOUCH, at every level.

--Shinobu does have multiple goldfish, but they look a bit different?

--Genya's makes the best face in this whole episode

--Speaking of Genya, in the seiyuu greeting they had actors in big chibi costumes of the Kamaboko gang come out... PLUS GENYA. Giant chibi grumpy Genya was so, so, so, so freaking cute. Also, his seiyuu Okamoto got to join the stage with everybody and was talking about how he always used to scroll through his social media seeing the other seiyuu at KnY events and he was like, "sigh... sure looks like everyone is having fun..."

--Hanae Natsuki and his wife are big Genya fans, though, it seems

--Okamoto had a lot of trouble performing young Genya in the flashback, especially the emotional screaming. The desperation Genya always displays as he fights? That was Okamoto. --Meanwhile, Matsuoka always looks very overwhelmed at these things. I think having to embody the spirit of Inosuke terrifies him.

--IT WAS SO GOOD TO HEAR INOSUKE AGAIN

--Those actors in chibi costumes? The Zenitsu and Inosuke ones embodied them SO WELL. I don't usually care for those giant mascot character costumes, but these were legit so much fun to watch, like with Inosuke going right up into the cameras and Zenitsu trying to pull him back and then the two of them pushing and shoving. Zenitsu acting like he is being bullied and Inosuke showing off his muscles. I loved them. I am very sad that I will not be in town when they travel across Japan and come to my area.

--Also, the baritone voice of Oyakata-sama's personal crow? LOVED IT.

--Himejima at the the Pillar Meeting is such a statement. The new promotional material has a tag line that prominently uses one of the kanji in his name ("cry out"), and I feel like this is set-up for him to have a lot of impact later on in this season. Here's hoping!

--I am probably gonna go watch it again in a couple weeks, ufufufu

--Which is worth it for that KIZUNA NO KISEKI REMIX WHICH SOUNDED SO COOL IN SURROUND SOUND, OH MY GOSH