#people are never going to stop complaining about it because they are stupid and they are miserable

[rowanthestrange]

The one downside of this episode is i’m now gonna have to watch at least a full week of people going “oh so russell’s improved on the racism then” but it’s not about the accidental Mickey - stupid ape shit that he was called out on and had opportunity to fix and didn’t cus he’d ‘already started it’ and only later realised he should’ve listened to people after he’d colourblind-cast Mickey as black (including listening to the actor himself). No, it’s people to this fucking day not understanding the simple ABC Martha subplot because they think Ten’s flaws are the writer’s.

a) Ten tells Martha to “oh just walk around like you own the place”.

b) Martha is called a slur in that episode by the symbol of britain - Shakespeare himself. This showed that this was bad advice from Ten.

c) Ten not seeing Martha for who she is, ties into “not seeing colour” a thing actual progressives were trying to stop people saying at the time, that yes colour is important to note and was why Russell said there needed to be a black companion specifically when people complained and asked ‘why he couldn’t just hire the best person’. It comes to a head in the show when Ten gets Martha stuck in a hideously racist position because he did not see her as herself, a fact which is repeatedly shown to be awful and bad as she is mistreated and belittled, it is openly shown to be racist. The Doctor Did Bad by being all enlightened futurist ‘not seeing colour’ and therefore not seeing the reality the person he cared about was actually facing.

I have never met a single member of the general public who didn’t get that back in 2008 by the way. My grandmother got it. This is a solid fandom-based-brainworms lack of basic media comprehension.

#this is me being so brave about it #you have no idea how brave i am about it #on a daily basis #you don’t have to reblog it people will eat you

[prentissluvr]

something about being close — sam winchester

pairing : s.2!sam winchester x gn!reader, featuring platonic dean ➖⟢ genre : angst, fluff, ➖⟢ cw : sam and reader are lovingly mean to each other, bad insults (weird, stupid, lame), bad jokes, swearing, canon typical violence and ghosts, arguing, so much kissing, could be ooc but idc, edited but most likely still contains a few mistakes, single usage of y/n ➖⟢ wc : 9.5K summary : sam is acting weird, and when it puts people in danger, you can't let it slide (despite the fact that you're totally in love with him).

“hey, check this out,” sam calls to you and dean, not bothering to look up from his computer screen. “think we found our violent spirit.” you part from your own research without a single qualm, resting a hand on the back of sam’s chair as he leans back for you and dean to get a better look. “marissa hancock. she was a student at the college, died a violent death there, just like we thought. it’s thought that the janitor impaled her with his mop while he was working in her dorm hall, but he was never put away for lack of evidence.”

“explains the janitor kabob,” dean quips, already headed to shrug on his jacket. 

“easy solve,” you admit. it only took a solid half hour of searching through records to find the right murder. “but why’s she killing now? she’s had, what?” you lean further over sam’s shoulder to inspect the record, “fifty some years to be killing janitors, why start now?”

“dunno,” sam shrugs, and you can feel his shoulder brush against you, reminding you how close he is. doing your best to stay casual and maybe not stare longingly at his pretty face from this close up, you straighten your back and go to grab your own jacket as sam types away on his keyboard. “looks like her original murderer died two weeks ago.”

“right when the killings started,” dean finishes. “alright, let’s go. you got where she’s buried, sam?”

“yep,” he stands, shutting his laptop. “saint mercy cemetery, not too far.”

“hm,” you laugh out, “second saint mercy cemetery this month. people need to get more creative,” you note as you exit the motel room and head down the short hallway to get to the impala.

“and what would you name a cemetery?” dean asks, ready to catch you off guard or tease you for anything he can get his hands on.

“i should have thought of a clever answer before saying that,” you admit, “but i do wish it were socially acceptable to call them dead people neighborhoods.”

“that’s lame,” sam grins, throwing his arm around your shoulders for just about two seconds before he has to let go to get through the small doorway and outside.

“c’mon,” you complain, “i know it’s kind of lame, and definitely insensitive, but imagine someone just asked you where you’re headed after work and you get to tell them you’re going to the dead people neighborhood. cemetery’s no fun, at least dead people neighborhood is accurate.” you close the back door of the car behind you as you settle in to punctuate your point.

“you’re weird,” sam teases in a matter-of-fact tone, not even looking back from the passenger's seat to see the sneer on your face.

“no, you’re weird,” you fire back.

“alright, kids,” dean interrupts, “enough bickering like we’re four, we’ve got a job to do,” he snickers as he backs the car up.

“okay, dean,” you and sam chime, voices full of mocking and almost totally in sync. dean rolls his eyes hard, because it’s just one of those days where the two of you can’t stop feeding into the antics of the other, regressing the combined mental age of the three of you by at least twenty years. 

having known the brothers since you were kids through bobby, and starting to hunt with them about a year and a half ago, you’ve certainly grown close with the both of them. but a little closer in age, you and sam are nothing but two peas in a pod. and much to dean’s chagrin, that means it only takes a split second for the two of you to switch things up and turn against him when he tries to break up your banter. it’s pretty much all loving argumentation, of course, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying as all hell for whoever has to witness it.

“and for the record, i like dead people neighborhood,” dean offers, ignoring your moment of synchronicity with sam.

“yes!” you celebrate, reaching around the seat in front of you to lightly hit sam’s shoulder. “you’re the lame one, you’re no fun.” 

he scoffs, mumbling something to himself about how, “of course dean likes dead people neighborhood. it’s stupid.”

you resist the urge to tell him that he’s stupid, and instead follow dean’s direction to focus on the case.

“hold on, dean. you should drop me off on campus first, one of us should make sure another janitor doesn’t fall on his mop handle before we can burn the bones,” you suggest.

“no.”

your brow furrows at how fast sam shuts you down, his serious tone a harsh contrast to his practically whiny mumble moments before. you glance at dean to see that he’s got his own eyebrows raised in confusion.

“what’d’you mean, ‘no’?” you question.

“i mean,” he clears his throat as if he’s just realized his strong denial was awkward, “that that could be dangerous alone, so i’ll go and you can stick with dean.”

you send a bewildered look to dean, one he doesn’t catch trying to pay attention to the street name up ahead. “i’m sorry, are you suggesting i can’t handle a measly ghost?” mostly you’re confused by sam’s words, but you can’t help letting a bit of offense slip into your voice.

“n-no, no that’s not what i’m saying,” he fumbles, trying to fix what he said, “i meant– i meant it would be safer for anyone not to go alone. so– so i’ll go with you and dean can stick with burning the body.”

it’s a clumsy, bad save that’s entirely unconvincing.

“you’re seriously gonna stick me with grave digging duty?” dean grunts, “y/n’s right, it’s just one ghost, we don’t need two of us to deal with it. digging up a grave is arguably harder.”

“exactly,” you reason, “which is why i should go scope out the dorm hall, and you should go with dean to the dead people neighborhood.”

“she’s buried in a family mausoleum,” counters sam, “her grave doesn’t need to be dug up, which means it’s a one person job, and since there could be an actual violent ghost in the dorm, two people should go. and don’t try to make dead people neighborhood a thing, at the very least it’s too long, not to mention it’s not funny.”

despite the fact that he’s teasing you, you’re glad to hear something normal come out of his mouth. his hesitancy to let you take on the ghost is odd, especially considering the ghost might not show up at all. it’s not like he’s never been protective of you, it’s in both his and certainly dean’s nature. but he knows full well that you are completely capable of handling one violent ghost, and he’s been weird like this for the past two weeks.

you laugh when you admit, “it wasn’t quite as good in context as i thought it would be, but it wasn’t that bad, i’m just tryna to stick with my bit,” you defend, “and fine, two people at the dorms, one on dead person arson.”

“are you serious?” sam laughs, halfheartedly tossing his head back to give you a judgemental look through the corner of his eye.

“dead serious, pun absolutely intended,” you let out a full laugh at the strangled sigh he lets out. oh how you love to rile him up with bad jokes. “you’re too easy, sam. for that, i’m sticking you on grave duty. dean and i will handle the dorm.”

“you should be on grave duty, for all the bad jokes today,” he argues.

dean practically growls in annoyance, “how about i go on grave duty, so i can get away from your annoying asses.” it’s not a suggestion, and the both of you huff out a sigh, but don’t argue.

dean drops you off a little ways from the dorm hall for you to grab a shotgun and salt rounds with less of a chance of being seen. you leave the other shotgun for dean just in case, bothered that yours is still broken from the last hunt. there hadn’t been enough time to fix it yet. so, you grab an iron rod, hoping to use that before any guns on a college campus. it’d be a sticky situation to get out of, being caught with shotguns in a dorm, and at the very least incredibly inconvenient to scare the hell out of a bunch of college aged kids at eleven pm. sam sticks the shotgun under his jacket, generally hiding it from the view of anyone not looking too closely.

walking a few minutes, you find the right dorm hall and sam hands the gun off to you to pull out his lock pick. but, glancing behind you, you shove the gun back into his hands and yank him into you.

“the hell?” he resists for a split second before you quickly interrupt him.

“shut up! hide the gun and act like you’re piss drunk. someone’s coming,” you hiss. in a swift movement, he tucks the gun back under his jacket as you shimmy the iron rod into your sleeve, then he swings his free arm around you, practically dropping half of his weight on you. “dude,” you complain, before falling into character. “sammy, come on!” you whine loudly. “i can’t reach my id with you like this,” you pretend to feel around for something in your back pocket while keeping him standing, and he immediately picks up on what you’re trying to do. he stumbles forward so that you have to use both hands to keep him upright, and you curse at your false struggle. “help me out here, sammy, will you?” you try to make your voice sound overly desperate, maybe a little innocent too, “why don’t you lean against the wall so we can get inside,” you beg, trusting sam to play his part well.

“nooo,” he slurs, dragging the word out in a whiny pitch, “don’t wanna.” he turns into you and haphazardly wraps his lanky arm all the way around your form, tugging you to him and nearly knocking the both of you over. you feel heat rush to your cheeks at this and desperately remind yourself that he’s only pressing his face into your neck so that he can get a look at the person approaching and keep the shotgun well hidden from view.

you see the girl out of the corner of your eye, young and clearly a student headed for the dorm.

“oh, thank god!” you exclaim, “hey, i’m so sorry to bother you, but do you think you could open the door for us?” you ask as sweetly as you can, pulling your eyebrows together to gain sympathy, before adding on a humorous tone, “my boyfriend is stupid drunk and i can’t get us inside.” you can feel sam stiffen for a split second at your words, and you yourself wonder if you should have just gone the “friend” route for the sake of your own sanity. you’re going to want to keep calling sam your boyfriend, over and over again.

“oh my god, of course,” she laughs goodnaturedly, and you thank the lord she’s laid back, rather than some uptight rule follower ready to report you to administration. she swipes her id and holds the door open for you, and as you struggle into the building, you think that sam is making this harder for you than it has to be. but there’s absolutely no denying you love the way it feels to just have him all over you, even for the sake of illegally entering a building with a gun.

“thank you so much,” your voice is one big sigh of relief, slightly muffled by the fabric of sam’s jacket.

“yeah, don’t worry about it,” she smiles, “you two are super cute, by the way,” she compliments before turning towards the stairs and waving a kind goodbye.

you do your best to not stumble over your words as you thank her, heat once again rising to your face, and you’re sure that sam can feel the warmth of your neck. body stiff, you turn and head down the hallway in the opposite direction, sam still clinging to you until it’s clear.

“alright, get off, you big dork,” you snort, gently pushing him away and doing your best to regain your composure to proceed as if you don’t have a massive crush on him. “did ya have to make it so hard for me?”

he shrugs with a sly grin, “had to make it convincing, didn’t i? besides, it was your idea, you don’t get to complain.”

you stick your tongue out at him and he raises his eyebrows as if to say, “really?”

“she was really nice,” you note, voice almost wistful in a way that sam easily picks up on. about a year into hunting with the brothers and dean was off buying food, you and sam had collapsed onto a motel bed together as you had many times before by then, both exhausted after a long case. that night, as you spoke in tired, hushed tones, with no need for anyone but the other to hear your words, you had somehow ended up with your head resting on his biceps and one of his legs swung over yours. 

that’s the night you told him you were jealous that he got to go to college, even if it wasn’t for long. you’d told him how you liked the idea of that life, even if you had to return to hunting after it was over. you wanted friends your age, to learn, go to stupid parties and have a college partner. you knew the experience wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies, but you wanted it anyway. he’d said, sure, it wasn’t perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than hunting in his opinion. he wanted you to have that. once this was all over, and you both got justice for your families, he’d help you apply, make sure you got in somewhere, maybe even go with you. a hush fell over the room and he knew you weren’t convinced.

“yeah, she was,” he says, his own voice a touch more gentle than moments ago. “we were lucky.” he doesn’t want to tell you that most college kids would be at least cool enough to let you inside, maybe not as friendly as her, but that it’s true you’d like it here. he doesn’t want to remind you of what you can’t have. 

a silence falls over the two of you, punctuated only by the shuffling of your feet or the rustle of clothes. it’s comfortable and easy because you’ve done it a million times before. you don’t have to say anything to agree that you’ll head to the basement where the original murder occured. the both of you stay quiet and light on your feet, sam always peering around corners before rounding them.

in the basement he stops you with a simple finger to his lips. he leans in close to whisper as quietly as he can, “janitor’s here.”

you resist the urge to call said janitor an idiot, because who the hell is going to be cleaning an area in which three of your coworkers have mysteriously died in the past two weeks, but you just nod instead, taking in the way that sam’s eyes look under the dim light.

“wanna wait around til dean calls or warn him?” you ask, equally as quiet. he turns his head to look back around the corner before continuing.

“well, we should warn him, but we can’t use the drunk ruse on an employee. he probably has a radio scanner on him, might even be connected to campus security,” he points out.

“fbi?”

“we look too much like college kids right now,” he reasons.

“right,” you agree, “well then, stupid college kids trying to see a murder scene? we’ll link arms and you can hide the gun behind your back. just so we’re near him til dean burns the bones. hopefully nothing’ll even happen.” it’s as if you jinxed it all in that moment, as the lights immediately begin to flicker, the buzz of electricity filling your ears and a sudden chill filling the air. “nevermind,” you curse, flicking the iron rod back into your hand and barging around the corner, only a hair behind sam.

“way to jinx it,” he grunts.

you just scoff and beg him, “just try not to use the gun.” this time neither of you attempt to hide your presence as your shoes pound against the tile floor.

“no promises,” sam says, the gun up and loaded in front of him.

“what the hell?” the janitor barely has the time to exclaim before he’s thrown against the wall.

“i got it,” you warn sam, eager to avoid gunshots and sprinting full speed towards the apparition, iron rod in front of you. you throw all your weight into reaching the ghost of the young girl before she can flicker out of reach. the iron in your hand makes contact, and she evaporates for the time being. unfortunately for you, your momentum keeps you going, through the space the ghost just occupied and straight into the section of the floor slick with soapy water. with no time to gain any semblance of your balance, you slip and come crashing to the ground. your back hits the floor and the wind gets knocked out of your lungs in the same moment that the iron skitters out of your hand.

you struggle a bit to sit up due to the wetness underneath you, gasping slightly and letting curses fall from your mouth the moment you can speak again.

in a split second reaction, sam shouts your name, his voice inappropriately taught and worried for such a silly accident. he’s by your side in an instant, strong hands pulling you up and his anxious voice asking if you’re alright. you wave him off easily, unconcerned for yourself.

“help him,” you urge, “i’m fine.” but he doesn’t back off nearly as easily as you’d think.

“are you sure, did you hit your head? you couldn’t breathe for a second there,” his hands stay glued to you as he rattles off his concerns, ones that you find utterly unnecessary and unhelpful considering the fact that you’re fine, and the ghost could reappear any second. his strong grip keeps you from bending down to scoop up the iron rod, but you have to wrench yourself away from him when you hear a strangled cry come from the janitor. he whirls around with you to see the ghost with her hands around the janitor’s neck, crushing him against the wall as his feet dangle just above the floor. the iron rod is back in your hand in an instant, but sam’s shotgun lays abandoned on the floor a few feet away.

he dives for the weapon, but with a flick of the ghost’s hand, he’s knocked against the wall with a noise so loud it hurts to hear. before she can pay you attention, you fling the iron towards her, vaporizing her once more. the iron clatters to the ground as the janitor collapses to his knees. you rush towards him, pulling him away from the wall before tugging a container of salt from your jacket’s inside pockets. apologetically, you haul the poor man to his feet, throwing a quick look over your shoulder at sam. he’s groaning painfully, but already moving to get back up. 

knowing he’s easily survived worse, you turn your attention back to the janitor, who’s sputtering out confused and incoherent questions about what in the goddamn hell is happening.

“just stay there,” you urge him, too pressed for time to add adequate sympathy to your tone. “stay in the circle and she can’t get you.” with practiced ease, you shake the salt onto the ground with barely enough to make a small, solid ring around the man.

you scoop up the gun from the ground, then turn to help sam onto his feet. “we’re gonna have to tough this out til dean gets done,” is all you say when you place the weapon into his hands, despite the urge to ask what the hell is wrong with him and why he’s so off his game. you turn to grab your own weapon, but it seems the ghost is reappearing faster and faster. this time, you’re the one who gets tossed into the wall, but you stay pressed against the cold surface as a mop flies to meet you, the long handle pushing against your throat and cutting off your air supply. you take in a strangled gasp, hands clawing at the old wooden handle and giving yourself a few splinters that you couldn’t care less about in the moment. of course, it doesn’t budge.

the second you’re flattened against the wall, sam shouts your name again, this time with his gun in the air, swinging around to get a shot at the ghost. but before he can react, it flies out of his hand and she reappears right in front of him, pushing him against the wall across from you.

he struggles against her wildly, his hand itching to get free of her hold to reach the hidden iron knife in his pocket. but before he can get there, her grip weakens and she lets out a strangled scream as she bursts into flames. the flames climb up her old fashioned pencil skirt and swallow up the bloody wound in her abdomen. her grip on you and sam falters as she burns away, then dissolves completely as the last of her ashes fade out into the musty basement air.

you drop to your knees, coughing and gasping for breath as the sound of the mop clattering to the floor echoes through the hallway. sam’s saying your name, half through a cough and his voice still so worried as he stumbles towards you. then he’s on his knees too and his hands are sturdy on your shoulders.

“‘m fine,” you rasp out, hand reaching for his bicep to ground you to something solid and steady. he stays right there, completely ignoring the poor man who’s still practically frozen in fear in the tiny circle of salt and the ringing of his phone. one of his hands slips around you to rub soothing strokes up and down your back and it brings you even closer to him, your forehead dipping to rest on his shoulder. you feel silly for how much he’s fussing over you, but you can’t quite scold or question him until you’ve caught your breath. clearly something is bothering him (and you want him so bad), so you let him hold you close.

“are you hurt anywhere?” he finally asks once he feels your breathing even out under his touch. 

you pull away from him gently, shaking your head before verbally confirming, “no, i’m alright sam. nothing more than your typical bumps and bruises.” your voice is a touch raspy from the pressure on your throat, but it’s nothing that won’t go away with some water and rest, maybe some tea if really necessary.

his hands stay on you as he stands. “are you sure?” he asks, and you can’t figure out why on earth, heaven, or hell he’s so overly concerned about you. frankly, it’s starting to worry you. and definitely annoy you. all the sudden he’s acting like you’re fragile, like you can’t take care of yourself. things which he should know for a fact aren’t true.

he lets you slip away from his hold as you swoop down to pick up your lost weapons and face the poor janitor.

“sorry about that all. you can step out of the salt now.” he looks at you as if he can’t be sure, and your tone softens a bit. he’s young, probably just a college kid himself. “she’s really gone this time, i promise. you won’t ever have to worry about her again. though, i wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to look for a different job.”

he nods and thanks you, and you tell him to repay the favor by not mentioning you and sam. then, at a pace you certainly can’t blame him for, he scurries away.

“c’mon,” you nod to sam, “we should get out of here. you should also call dean back. he’s probably worried you didn’t answer.” with that, you turn back in the direction of the stairs without looking back at sam, rolling your eyes when your own cell ring. you pick up with a, “we’re fine, dean,” before he can even ask why the hell it took you so long to answer him. he lets out a sigh, half relieved, half annoyed. 

“what took ya so long?” he asks anyway.

“had a few bumps in the road since little miss janitor-killer showed up, but we’re fine. neither of us are hurt. would’ya pick us up in the same spot you left us?”

“yeah, ‘course. already on my way, see you crazy kids in five.” with that, he hangs up and you don’t have to glance over your shoulder to feel sam following behind. it’s all just the familiarity of his footsteps, the sound they make, and the pace at which he walks. it’s the particular rustle of his favorite jacket, soft and scratchy sounding all at once. it’s the feeling of his tall figure, his broad chest so close behind you that he’d run right into you if you stopped even for a moment. you debate whether to ask him what the hell is up now or at the motel. for now, the priority is getting out unnoticed, so you clench your jaw a bit and continue in silence because you’re beginning to feel a little angry with him. you think he can feel it, so he stays quiet too, all the way out the dorm and down the street to wait for dean.

it’s not uncommon to be quieter after a hunt is finished because you’re all usually tired and more often than not achey from some toss around or another. but sam can tell there’s something else bothering you tonight. from the way you tilt your shoulder away from him, the distance so nearly imperceptible that only he would notice, he’s willing to bet that he’s that something. and though he doesn’t want to admit it, he thinks he knows why. he just won’t be the first one to say something about it because he’s stubborn, a little prideful, and most of all, too afraid to explain why he’s acting this way.

even so, he just can’t help himself. he hovers near, so near that once you’re settled by the side of the road, you can feel him without actually touching him. you’re tempted to nudge him away, just because of how overprotective he’s acting. you’re also tempted to lean back into his chest because somehow you know his hands wouldn’t waste a second in gathering you up and keeping you closer than ever before. it starts to rain a little bit, soft and almost unnoticable if it weren’t for the new chill in the air. for a moment, you can feel one hand hover over your waist, just for a second before there’s a light swish of fabric when it falls back to his side. you wonder if he’s worried about you getting too cold.

you hear dean before you see him, the rumble of the impala coming into earshot moments before its headlights appear around the corner. the car slows as it nears you, pulling to the side of the road with the front windows down and some classic rock guitar riff filtering into your ears. the music’s quieter than you know it was just moments ago from when dean was alone. he greets you two with a simple, “hey,” once he’s fully stopped and you place your hand out, palm up and wordlessly asking for sam to hand you the rifle to put in the trunk.

“i got it,” he says, not waiting for you to argue when he takes the iron from the loose grip of your fist and makes his way to the trunk. you slide into the back seat behind the passengers side and return dean’s greeting.

he twists in his seat to watch you as you close your eyes and massage your shoulder with a wince. it’s beginning to become more sore, just like all the rest of your body.

“you okay?” he asks, voice full of his normal gruffness that tells you cares enough to ask but knows not to be too worried.

you open your eyes back up to give him a nod. “‘m fine. just the usual ghost beat down. y’know, bumps and bruises.”

“mm, sure do,” he agrees, “so what? dearly departed marissa thought you were janitors?” he asks skeptically. you hear the slam of the trunk, and moments later sam’s settling into his seat in front of you.

“no,” you scoff, “some idiot kid was actually cleaning down there. told ‘im to get a new job,” you snort humorlessly.

“well, i’ll say,” dean raises his eyebrows in agreement before twisting back to face the wheel. he sneaks a look between you and sam before switching the car out of park and getting back on the road. for a few minutes, all you hear is the muted music, the constant roll of the engine, the light patter of rain on the metal roof, and the road under the tires. then dean switches off the music. “anything happen back there that i should know about?” he ventures.

“no,” sam answers casually, “nothing, just the usual.” you don’t even answer. you just can’t figure out if you should involve dean, tell him how sam was unthinking and almost entirely uncaring about the innocent civilian involved, all because he was so worried about you.

“alright,” dean concedes, glancing at you through the rearview mirror and sounding entirely unconvinced. he doesn’t turn the music back on, just lets the silence reign, so you close your tired eyes and lean your head against the cold glass of the window. you’ve fallen asleep in the back of the impala countless times before, but your drowsiness doesn’t take over this time in favor of letting your mind wander over what to say to sam. you can’t just let it be, and tonight is certainly the worst it’s gotten. plus, it’s an easy habit for you to wait for sleep when you’re already so close to the motel. 

when dean pulls into the parking lot, he doesn’t turn off the engine. “gonna grab some grub. i’ll be back in a bit with the usual.”

“grab me something for dessert, will ya? ‘m craving something sweet,” you request, leaning towards the driver’s seat. 

“sure thing,” he nods, and you slide out of the car and close the door after a thank you and tired smile. “anything for you, sammy?” you hear him ask.

“i’m good, just the regular,” sam responds as he exits the car. you unlock the motel door, and he’s inside the room just a moment later, closing and locking the entrance behind him. you stand facing away from him at the shitty table, your jacket already strewn across the back of a chair. you can hear him behind you, going through his routine movements. he’s taking off his jacket, setting it down on the edge of the bed. then he’s pulling comfier clothes out from his pack.

“you wanna shower first?” he offers, breaking the silence of the room. you can feel his gaze on your back.

“sure,” you swallow, “thanks,” you say without any sort of edge to your voice.

“‘f course,” he says, and he means that. his eyes follow you as you pull out your own change of clothes, just a tshirt and sweats, and make your way to the dingy bathroom. you’re tired, so you’re quick with it, but the water’s already lukewarm by the time you’re done. you dry off and dress quick, eager to lay in bed.

and yet, when sam takes your place in the bathroom and the sounds of the shower start up again, you sit at the table instead, picking out a few splinters in your hands before folding your arms and resting your head against them. you stay that way, even when you hear the water turn off, the bathroom door open, his heavy footfalls that are only heavy because he’s so tall and not for lack of gentleness, then the scraping of the chair across from you. he doesn’t even say a thing, just looks at the top of your head and the tip of your nose. the shape of your hands, the point of your elbows, and the curve of your back.

with a deep breath and some pain in your neck, you lift your head. you look back at him and slump your chin into your palm.

“i’m upset with you,” you state.

he frowns. even his frown is pretty. “i know,” he sighs.

“so? why are you acting like this?” your voice is tired, but you still manage to infuse accusation into your tone, “sam, why are you suddenly acting like i can’t take care of myself out there? you’ve been weird for nearly two weeks now, and i don’t like it. i don’t like this.”

sam doesn’t know how to respond. he’s used to being yelled at, shouted at, angry at. he’s used to yelling and shouting and getting angry back. and though he’s certainly fought with you before, he’s still not used to the level tone and the way you say each word so slow, like you’re not actually arguing. just upset and rightfully a little angry, like you just want to understand. 

sure, he can hear the plain anger in your voice. you’re not trying to hide it. but you’re not yelling. how’s he supposed to use the heat of the moment to shout back, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” or “i’m just trying to help,” when there is no heat in the moment? instead, he’s embarrassed and the only answer he can come up with, the only one that he can mean if he answers in that same, level tone you’re using is, one he’s having too much trouble saying aloud. any other answer would just be too wrong like that. or maybe if you were shouting, he’d tell you the truth, because he could yell it out, loud and rash without thinking about it. if he says it now, it’s not because he just let it slip. if he says it now, there’s no way to take it back, to get around everything threatening to bubble over the surface like forgotten water on a heated stove.

“i don’t think that you can’t take care of yourself. i know you can,” is all he says, because it’s true and it skirts around the real questions. his voice is rough, halfway between pleading and holding back from the anger he doesn’t yet know how to control. you heave a sigh.

“so why, sam? why?” you let the heavy question stew for a moment, then go on when he doesn’t even meet your gaze, “or, i don’t know, if you’re not gonna tell me, just promise me you’ll stop?”

he clenches his jaw because he knows he can’t. he just wishes you would shout. then, he’d tell you. he can imagine the words coming out of his mouth, but only if they’re loud, only if you’ve pressured him to do it. he realizes that’s probably fucked up. but the other way is too vulnerable, too vast of a leap to take to when he’s just not sure.

“sam,” you press, “you don’t have to worry about me, i swear. i don’t understand what’s got you like this, but it’s getting in the way of you being able to do your job right. that kid could have died because all you could do was worry about me,” that’s when you begin you raise your voice, just a little. because that’s what’s making you most upset about this. you hate it ‘cause you feel like he’s doubting your abilities as a hunter, but you hate it even more because it’s making him disregard the safety of others and of himself, for you. “sam, i only slipped. sure i got the wind knocked out of me, but you dropped your gun for that? frankly, that was stupid. and the poor kid was being choked, and if i hadn’t been lucky enough to throw the iron before she could react, he could have died. i need you to understand that. i need you to understand that i can do this job, that i’m strong enough, and that if you don’t trust me with that? people could die. and i’m not about to let that happen. so either you tell me what’s up and we figure it out, or you stop and i pay you the huge favor of just dropping the whole thing, okay?”

suddenly he looks all sad. “i do trust you,” he says, voice all sincerity and nothing more.

you close your eyes for a moment, half in frustration and half because you could really use some shut eye right about now. “that’s not– well, it is. it is part of the point. but i need an answer from you, i need you to tell me you won’t let whatever this is put somebody else in danger.”

he clenches his jaw. he’s still stuck. you still haven’t shouted.

“just spit it out. i can practically see something rolling around on the tip of your tongue. just say it, sam.”

there’s an edge to your voice, so maybe he can.

“i can’t lose you.”

there it is. it’s said with an edge, too, like he wanted to shout it but couldn’t. it’s said rough and a little bit angry and full of this undying faithfulness and yes, love. 

but you still don't quite understand it, so it makes you sigh. it makes your eyes soften a bit and it makes you a little angrier than before. it makes you want him to mean that with all his chest and it makes you want to shake him hard until he comes to his senses.

“that’s always been a danger, ever since we met. you know that,” your voice is something so oddly gentle in its frustration, “sammy, you’re my best friend, and i can’t lose you either. hell, i don’t think the words “best friend” even begin to cover the depth of how much i care about you. but we’ll both be safer if we trust each other, if we trust in both of our abilities to keep ourselves and the other safe. tell me that you understand that.”

it takes him a minute to speak again, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he searches for what to say. “two weeks ago,” is all he manages at first. you try to think back to it, and it immediately dawns on you. “i couldn’t prote–”

“sammy, no,” you interrupt, “that wasn’t your fault, okay? i know this doesn’t help to say, but we can’t always protect each other perfectly, to the extent we really want. i’d do anything for you, sammy, you know that.” after that there’s supposed to be a “but” where you explain to him that you can’t let that get in the way of your thinking straight and keeping everyone safe. instead, those last words just hang, suspended and weighty in the air.

“but you could’ve been killed,” the way he says your name is almost desperate. “it was dean that saved you. i was there and i couldn’t even help. what if next time, dean isn’t there? what if–,” his voice breaks, and he effectively cuts himself off from finishing the sentence. you know what he was trying to say.

any answer you give to that, you know isn’t enough. “but i wasn’t killed, sam. i’m here. i’m right here and i’m alive and i’m well and i don’t want to spend all my time worrying about you worrying about me. not like this.” you let that sit for a moment or two, and though his eyebrows are still all sad and pinched together, you think you’re starting to get through to him.

“but i can’t lose you,” he repeats stubbornly.

“sam,” you’re practically begging at this point, frustration creeping back into your voice, “the best way for you to keep me safe from ghosts and monsters and everything else is to take care of the problem, efficiently and effectively, like we always do. if there’s no monster, it can’t hurt me. but if you drop your weapon just because i slipped on soapy floors and lost my breath for a second? then it’s not just you and whatever innocent bystander around who’s more vulnerable now, it’s me too. so if that’s what it’s gonna take for me to convince you to stop fussing over me, then, please, think about it like that.”

sam is smart. he loves logic and reason, and you’ve handed him just that. but even more than that, he loves you. in the end, that trumps all.

“but i love you.”

he says it like a plea. like he didn’t mean to say it at all but it was the only thing running through his mind, and therefore, the only thing running off his tongue.

“sammy,” you breathe out, and then it’s like there’s no more air for you to breathe back in. that sweet nickname of his coming out of your mouth, resting on your tongue before tumbling into the air, is half like a drug to him, half like a bitter wind to sober him up quick.

“i– i only meant that i–,” he meant just that and now it’s said and now he’s never going to take it back, even if you hate him for it. “i meant that,” he says it firm and true this time, “i love you, so i can’t lose you.”

the way he looks at you, right into your eyes like they’re the prettiest things he’s ever seen, like you’re the best thing he’s ever had, oh, it has you hooked like bait has a fish who bit down too hard. it has you praying he never looks at anybody else like that again. it has you rising out of your seat and it’s pulling you across the small, wobbly table. he’s wedged into the grooves of your heart, so deep it could kill you to pull him out, so you follow the tug and he leans in too so the line isn’t so taught, so that it’s easy and comfortable and beautiful to reach his lips. 

his hands are like a net that catches you up in big, lovely swaths. they travel from your own hands, that lean against the table to keep your lips pressed to his, up to your elbows and then he knows he can never get enough. so he pushes up out of his own seat, drags his hands further up your arms until they can wrap around your biceps and push you up. not for a moment does he let his lips leave yours as he stands and pulls the both of you away from the table until he can bring you close, right into his wide, warm chest. then his hands can roam, gentle over your sensitive back, up to your neck then the back of your head to push your face into his. the other hand gets to go from your waist to your hips, or dip to the small of your back and press you flush to him.

you can only get away from him for a second, just enough time to whisper, “i love you, too,” before he swallows you back up. you melt right into him, and he loves it so much, but he feels how tired you are and he remembers he is too. so he only kisses you for a minute longer before letting your head rest on his shoulder. without any reservation, he presses a long kiss to your temple and you sigh a sweet sigh into his worn out tshirt.

unwilling to let go, he waddles with you, all bundled up into his arms, to the edge of the bed. without warning, he collapses into it, taking you right down with him and pulling out a little shriek from your mouth that he finds to be nothing short of endearing. he laughs, a belly laugh that you can feel the vibrations of as it moves up into his chest and out of those pretty lips of his. with some struggle to readjust yourself, you press a sweet peck to those lips. another easy i love you.

then you collapse back into his hold and the low quality plush of the motel bed. “now promise me you’ll pull yourself together next time we get a case?” this time your ask is so much more lighthearted, sweeter because it’s mumbled into the skin of his arm. you mean it just as much, but you can’t help the fact that you feel like you’re floating, “now i really, really can’t have you getting us in trouble. i’ll need to be able to kiss you at any given moment, so you have to promise me that you’ll trust me to take care of myself. because it works, and you know it. it’s the safest way. for both of us.”

the sigh he heaves can be felt through practically your whole body. it’s heavier than you wish it’d be, but he relaxes against you just a bit more. “i know,” he relents, “i’ll do my best, okay?”

“thank you,” you breathe out, too relieved to care that he couldn’t quite promise. you know this all means he’ll just be more protective of you, but you can say the same for yourself. now that you’ve kissed him and he’s told you he loves you and you’ve said it back, right against his lips, you’ll worry about him extra. but the both of you know the best ways to keep each other alive, and that has to be enough for you. you allow yourself to snuggle closer into him before joking, “d’you think dean’s ever gonna come back?”

you feel sam’s quiet laugh more than you hear it. “yeah, he really did us a favor with that one, didn’t he?” you can hear the smile in his voice before he remembers himself, “do not tell him i said that.” having you in his arms like this has got him a little giddy, saying things aloud that he normally wouldn’t.

letting out a laugh of your own, you promise, “i won’t. but i’m starting to get hungry. maybe we should call him and tell him the coast is clear, we didn’t tear the room to shreds or anything like that.”

sam chuckles again, and you decide very quickly that you like the way it feels for him to laugh with you so close. neither of you move, not to get a phone to call dean or to stop yourselves from growing drowsy. not for anything.

you’re half asleep when you hear the familiar sound of the impala’s engine near the room. it turns off, then comes the sound of its front door being open and shut. just because you’re hungry and it spells the arrival of food, you force your eyes open and let out a groan when you wiggle your arms out of sam’s hold to stretch. the way his hands shift to your waist as you do so has you a bit flustered and you wonder if you’re supposed to pretend in front of dean that you haven’t spent the last half hour kissing and cuddling. but sam doesn't seem to care, because he just sits up when the door’s lock clicks, one hand by your head to hold him up, the other still settled decidedly on your waist. so you decide not to care either, and turn your head around to accidentally grin at dean when he peeks his head through the door. you had meant to look casual, but the second someone else becomes a witness to the fact that you’re laying together like this, you’re beaming.

dean visibly relaxes when he takes in the sight, pushing the door all the way open to walk in, then lock the door back up behind him.

“hey, there,” is all he says, shooting the both of you a look that says, really, you’re just gonna keep sitting there like that in front of me? it’s not that bad, but he’s allowed to tease because he just turned a twenty minute food trip into an hour purely for yours and sam’s sake. you clear your throat awkwardly, and only when you sit up does sam’s hand fall away from you.

you pad over to the table as dean places the paper bag of fast food on the surface. he drags over an extra mismatched chair and sam follows close behind you, pulling the remaining chair to sit beside you. as you begin to pull food out from the bag, now clearly gone cold to the touch, dean sits down, complaining that they didn’t have pie, so he bought you two cookies for dessert instead.

“well, thank you for the food anyways,” you smile, hoping he picks up on the fact that you’re thanking him for the other thing too, “damn shame there was no pie, though,” you say, more for his sake than yours. you wonder why he didn’t just pick some up from somewhere else since he was gone so long.

“mhmm, and don’t sweat about the pie. just got a slice somewhere else,” he shrugs, “ate it in the car, there was only one slice left and i didn’t want you to feel like you were missing out,” he explains with that familiar teasing edge which makes you think he indeed caught onto the double meaning of your thanks. you let out a small huff of laughter before tearing into the food, only now realizing just how hungry you are. you’d felt it creep up on you on the car ride back, smiled at the mention of food from dean, even stupidly thought about it during a quiet moment in the argument with sam. but the second your lips found his, that was the only hunger you’d felt. to keep kissing him, to keep him close, keep him loving you. only when you settled all the way into his arms, sure that you’d be able to satiate that hunger again, could your body remember you hadn’t eaten since early this afternoon.

the three of you eating like this, late at night and without much conversation, is common and comfortable. dean is on what you assume to be his second burger, because there’s no way he’d have just sat in the car, probably parked in a random lot and wondering how long he should be gone, and just waited to eat an extra-bacon burger until he came back. sam’s nearly the same as always, too, but tonight he sits so close that his forearm brushes against yours. you bump elbows or knees every so often, and the side of his socked foot is pressed against yours the entire time.

you sigh, content with the nearness of him that’s so much more complete and full than it was just hours ago. now, there’s no need to hover. now, you can just swoop in and land, take what you want, give what the other needs.

dean makes no teasing comments, but you can feel the way he’s been examining, reading the two of you. you’re not sure if you’re supposed to say something aloud, but you know that he knows the two of you so well that he understands almost exactly what must’ve happened while he was gone. maybe he’s not teasing because this is the outcome he wanted to come back to. he probably knows better than the both of you how you were crushing, pining even, over the other.

he takes his turn in the shower when he finishes his food, and you and sam begin to clean up a few minutes later. once all the trash is crumbled up and tossed away, you go around and turn off all the lights but a single bedside lamp. as you turn away from clicking off the lamp in the corner of the room, sam’s right there in front of you. you don’t have the time to be startled by him sneaking up on you, he’s so quick to cup your face with his hands and slot his lips against yours. he lingers a long moment before pulling apart just enough to rest his forehead on yours.

“gonna kiss you forever,” he whispers, and you realize you’ve turned this giant man into a complete and utter sap. 

“you better.” your grin is wide and real and he can almost feel your lips moving, he’s so close. just as you’re ready to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him hard, the steady white noise of the shower shuts off. you sigh and laugh a little, leaning in to steal one more chaste kiss before brushing past him. but he turns with you, hands still warm on your cheeks and not letting go until he’s kissed you once more.

when dean’s gone from the bathroom, sam follows you in to brush his teeth with you. you’ve done so plenty of times, but tonight, sam gets to loop his free arm around your waist and pull you into him, rather than stand shoulder to shoulder in the cramped space. he gets to make you giggle through toothpaste when he does so, and you get to switch your toothbrush to your other hand and wrap your own arm around his waist, too. he gets to make you laugh dangerously harder when he tightens his hold on you to prevent you from bending and spitting into the sink when you’re done. you try to hold back the laughter with your mouth full of toothpaste, then he’s the one laughing around his toothbrush because there’s white, foamy spit rolling down your chin from the corner of your mouth and threatening to drip to your dark-colored tshirt. of course, he lets you spit and rinse your mouth, relishing in the continued sound of your laughter.

“you asshole! almost ruined my shirt til the next time we make a laundry stop!” you take revenge as he rinses out his own mouth, splashing the running water onto his face as he swishes water around in his mouth. 

he spits the water out in surprise and sputters an indignant, “hey!” before he bursts into laughter again.

you’re both giddy, high off of kissing each other, and silly from the exhaustion of a hunt, so he tugs you into him by your hips and keeps laughing into the crook of your neck. you wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers up through his soft, newly washed hair. you kiss the closest thing you can reach and he melts right into your arms.

it’s only when you yawn that he pulls away from you. “we should get to bed, huh?”

you nod and twist towards the door, peeking through it to see dean sleeping in his bed, his still form highlighted by the warm light of the cheap lamp. taking sam’s hand with a shy smile, you lead him to the other bed, turning off the last light and climbing under the covers with him not far behind. he loops his arm under your head, then the other over your waist to splay his hand flat across the small of your back. the way he does it is exactly the way you wished he would, as if he’s thought about holding you like this every night you share a bed, just as you had. with a final glance towards dean, he kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

you try to stifle the giggle that the soft, ticklish contact of his lips wants to pull from your chest, praying that dean is really as asleep as he looks. the both of you stiffen a bit when you hear dean’s blankets rustling, but you let out another breathy, quiet laugh when it goes silent again.

sam’s about to kiss you all over again when dean’s voice rings out into the hush of the night, startling you both.

“no shenanigans while i’m asleep, lovebirds,” he grunts.

that brings more laughter out of your lips and a rush of heat to your face that you’re sure sam feels, too. he just groans in annoyance at his brother, because of course dean had to get in at least one borderline dirty comment. neither of you really answer as dean shifts around in his bed again, likely turning his back to you and mumbling something mostly unintelligible. 

the only word you can catch is “finally.”

#sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester x gn!reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester headcanon #sam winchester fic #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester oneshot #spn fanfiction #supernatural oneshot #sam winchester imagine #supernatural sam winchester #sam winchester fluff #spn sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural requests #supernatural fluff #sam winchester supernatural #supernatural x reader #spn fanfic

[widevibratobitch]

.

#im so tired of this lalalalalalalalaa #something is Wrong lol #i really need this therapy on wednesday but guess WHAT im not going. im going to a funeral instead 🤡 #and ill be singing in that stupid fucking church because have to but i dont fucking wanna i hate doing it and i hate churches #all i feel rn is the overwhelming urge to selfdestruct and like obv im not gonna kms now #but im so fucking angry that im not even *allowed* to do that anymore. like it was such a comfort all this time to know that i can just Quit #and now i cant because guess what someone has to take care of my mother 🫠 and im so fucking tired of being someone people depend on #to handle THEIR feelings and THEIR emotions and just take it all with humility and acceptance and kindness and never snap and bite back #like i dont WANNA hear about your dead husband i dont wanna hear about your stupid fucking boyfriend #i dont wanna hear about the new guy/girl who's hitting on you because you're so hot and perfect #i dont wanna be responsible for how people feel. i should just shut up and take it and be humble and never ask or expect anything back #but when is it MY turn to call at 1 am crying about how im tired and want to kms #or to start expecting shit of people and allow myself to get properly angry at them for not meeting those expectations #or to braggingly 'complain' about something the other person clearly lacks without any consideration for their feelings #or to just openly cry and say deeply personal shit without any filter not caring if that other person is clearly uncomfortable af #because *i* need it right now and i need someone to listen and let them worry about how to even respond to that stuff #im just so tired of people expecting shit of me im tired of being made responsible even tho i clearly cannot handle that responsibility #i wanna be mean i wanna snap and get angry and openly say that i dont give a shit and am tired and cant listen to this rn #but i cant because i have to be a motherfucking mother theresa and never dare to demand something for myself #and idk where that comes from. idk if it's coming from the fanatic catholicism of my childhood or my mother or just from myself and idc #i just feel so horrible and guilty and wrong for wanting anything for myself #and it once again feels like im making myself the victim and the tortured martyr here when i should just shut up and take it #i just wanna lie down and die and not care about who'll get angry or judge or blame me for it im tired and i dont know what to do #i want someone to take care of ME and reassure ME and make ME feel like i matter and that they really will help me if i ever need it #and that they'd be kinda sad if i were gone not because i had a role to fulfill that i failed at by killing myself but because i am a person #<- math calculations flying around my head as i come to the terrible realisation #of just why exactly im so deeply obsessed with my voice teacher (aside from her being literally the most beautiful woman alive lol) 🤡 #like babygirl stop being so utterly overwhelmingly kind to me my knees are weak i would do anything for you queen and I MEAN IT

[honestlyvan]

As the pendulum is swinging back to “stop shaming people for leaving likes”, I am going to go on record to say I don’t like like because they’re a purely “number go up” metric that most people do not treat with the kind of thoughtful affection people who talk about leaving “little kisses for the people they follow” treat them as. I feel this exact same way about kudos in that mindless interaction from a potential audience is a real “good for you” kind of situation that simply does fuck all for me.

And before someone can call this grind culture brainrot, I also feel this way about reblogs without commentary. Good for you. I'm glad I was a good dancing monkey, enough for you to go “hey [people following me], lookadis guy”, even if you’re not gonna actually tell me that. We can talk about our choices for engaging with things and people on this site all we want, but intent isn’t magic, and I’m gonna reserve the right to complain about how that treatment feels regardless.

#van stuff #Anyway you as an individual are allowed to use this site however you want obviously #I'm just asserting that my memory is longer than six months #The reason people STARTED complaining about this was because people were saying shit like 'why are your likes hidden' #and treating 'liking' as the 'passive sharing' that reblogging without commentary used to be #Tumblr has historically had GARBAGE passive boosting options as the 'For You' tab is a fresh invention that barely fucking works #and new users were actively deluding themselves into thinking likes *were* engagement and demanding people show their likes to others #to make the user experience of this site more like the sites they came from #and most people who have been on this site for long enough know that any post with a huge note count #is gonna have a significant amount of threads calling it Fucking Stupid #and people adding likes to that post based on the commentary #Like... many of us actively have 'don't reblog shitty posts no matter how insightful the comments are' policies #BECAUSE boosting the notes of a shitty post is Bad For Discourse #me? a bitter former LJ user who never got over not having comments? Yes. #Am I AWARE that expecting the kind of interaction I enjoy is completely pointless? Also yes #but I'm still just not gonna say nothing as the pendulum swings back to hit me in ther face y'know? #EVENTUALLY it will have to come to a stop -- I just don't want it to come to a stop on 'less conversation happening continually' #also I need to remind myself to go tell wip that I want threaded comments on Tumblr #even Tiktok has them. They would be an incredible boon

[epickiya722]

Actually Hans Christian for Anderson describes her as white. Not that it matters, I just don’t like it when people use false information.

Though in his book she’s not named Ariel, she’s the sixth child. And she gets her tongue cut out. So The use of she wasn’t described as a certain color in the source material doesn’t really hold up. But Disney barely used the source material except for it’s sort of skeleton framing of the story. The climax and the villain were all very original. Aside from being a sea witch and taking Ariel’s Ursula isn’t much like her book counterpart. So people should stop hating on The move because Ariel is race swap (she is).

And honestly, if people is going to keep bringing up her skin tone, here some news to all those idiots out there.

Believe or not, there are PALE SKINNED BLACK PEOPLE. Just like redheaded Black people exist. Black people born with blonde hair. Some are born with freckles. Some are born with green or blue eyes.

If people are keep bringing up that Ariel and the little mermaid in the book has pale skin, then they going to have a field day knowing that Black people are still capable of being casted to play her because not all Black people have are dark skinned and brown eyed.

Halle Bailey was casted because she is talented. It's not a woke up move. It's a movie about a damn mermaid.

They keep bringing up how Halle Bailey isn't being "original", but Ariel never was herself. I read that story. And guess what? I have watched movies that stick closer to the source than Disney has. There's this movie called "The Lure" and guess what? Used the original ending from the story. Spoiler alert! The mermaid turns into seafoam from a broken heart! The animated movie sticks about 0.05% to the story. People want to defend its "originality" also need to be aware that this is the same corporation that has 98% of it's material "inspired" by other material.

Had a lighter skinned girl was casted to play her, I wondered of people would have the same reaction. Oh they would! Because what about a PALE WHITE SKINNED girl has been casted? Not someone White, but I mean a black girl with pale skinned. Oh they would still be in their feelings, but they couldn't say crap because guess what? Ariel is pale skinned. "Ariel is white." Yes and anyone who is pale skinned is white. They're paper white, white as daisies, the fallen snow!

"No, like white white."

"Just like how every person who is brown skinned is Black?! Oh my gosh then by your logic, Ariel is still white in this role!"

Honestly, I really don't care what anyone thinks about The Little Mermaid 2023. Halle is Ariel now and if they're in their feels about it. Then boo hoo hoo. Grown people really upset because a black women is casted to play a fictional creature. Wanting it to be "realistic"? Ursula has 8 limbs, Flounder and Sebastian are talking sea animals, Scully is a talking bird, Ariel's hair should have been flat against her hair because physics...

If people are going to complain about her being brown skinned than yeah, they're racist and they're very miserable with themselves. They're only "caring" about this movie now because she's not pale. Mind you, these are the same "fans" that whined about Turning Red or had criticisms about Encanto. Hmm. I see a pattern here.

#and i also don't know what false information you're talking about #but and i mean this as polite as i can i don't care #I'm done and I'm sick of people wanting to continue on and on how ariel isn't white now #get over yourselves #if you're racist you're racist #just let me know so i can block you #people are never going to stop complaining about it because they are stupid and they are miserable #don't care how those people feel because I'm happier seeing little brown skinned girls seeing Ariel and being excited about it #I'm happier knowing that got Halle Bailey who just gives magic to play Ariel #kiya answers #just kiya's thoughts #the little mermaid 1989 #the little mermaid 2023 #the little mermaid #halle bailey #princess ariel #disney ariel #ariel #tw racism

[lowkeyremi]

JJK CHARACTERS AND THEIR ICKS

basically things they do that make you upset. this is a joke so please do not attack me. y'all already know i never miss a chance to slander gojo!!! credit to my sweet mutual lene (@satorisoup) for giving me this idea!!! GO READ HER'S (if you're into haikyuu)

Gojo

PLEASE. He 100% leaves his clothes on the floor and it really grates your nerve when the hamper is RIGHT THERE!!! and he just leaves them right in front of it. It's so embarrassing when you have guests over and they just pull a dirty sock from between the couch cushions.

Yuji

I love him but I just KNOW he leaves toothpaste in the sink. It's like he doesn't understand the concept of rinsing the sink out after you brush your teeth. You'll finally be making your way into the bathroom to brush your teeth and there's dried spit and toothpaste in the sink.

Megumi

Always. talks. back. It does not matter he always has something to say. "Well you could have just taken out the trash like I asked you to." and he'll say something snarky like, "Maybe if you weren't so soft spoken I would have heard you." BOY SHUT UP BEFORE YOU GET SLAPPED.

Geto

He is a HUGE gossip. "Mimiko was telling me about xyz yesterday." He just doesn't know when to shut up. People think Geto is a very quiet and kept to himself kind of person but when he knows you he will not stop talking shit.

Toji

There are so many things I could say but the worst of them all is the fact that he will wear the same pair of underwear more than twice. "Toji... are those the same fucking boxers you had on Thursday?" You can see the hem line of his boxers and it looks like the same pair from Thursday. He sets down his cup, "Uh, probably. What's today?" ... "IT'S SUNDAY. JUST WASH YOUR CLOTHES!"

Nanami

He's overbearing with tasks. He forgets that you know how to do things and will bug you until he knows you've done them. "Don't forget to take your car to get an oil change soon." You nod.

A few hours later when he returns home, "Have you gone down to get the oil ch-"

"Kento! The love of my life. I know. I'm going tomorrow." ... "Oh, okay. I'm sorry."

Nobara

Leaves her plate/bowl/etc on the table. You've reminded her on multiple occasions that she needs to do it but she just forgets. "Food was great!" She yells with a smile. In no time she's up from the table sprinting to the living room. "Nobara.. your plate." She freezes, "Oh shit right. I'll get it!"

Maki

She snores. It's not the cute kind either, it's the loud obnoxious kind that prevents you from sleeping. You've tried to get her to change her sleeping posture and find other ways to help but it does. not. matter. By the end of the night she will be holding you close. Your back pressed against her front and loud snores ringing in your ear.

Inumaki

Never gives you any kind of warning when he's going to fart he just does it. HE KNOWS they're a lethal weapon but finds it funny whenever you're screaming at him and gasping for air. God forbid he ever farts while you two are in bed because a dutch oven from him is probably enough to kill you.

Shoko

She laughs whenever you trip or get hurt in any kind of way. She doesn't even mean it she just does it. Like say she sees that the pavement is uneven she doesn't say anything and watches you trip, just to laugh about it. "Okay okay okay, I'm so *giggle* sorry. I should have said something, let me help you up."

Sukuna

Thinks because he's lived for a long time he knows everything and then he gets mad when, "This stupid little talking box won't work." (his phone) "This shit is broken again." He complains throwing it to you. "Dude.. it's powered off. 'Mr. I Know Everything.'" He rolls his eyes at you, "I do know everything you shit for brains." You scoff, "See if I ever help you turn on your 'talking box' again."

Choso

He's always second guessing you. He doesn't even realize it either. The two of you will be driving and he's like, "Are you sure you know where we're going? Should I pull up GPS." YOU KNOW WHERE YOU'RE GOING CHILL. He's just really cautious though which is why he asks a million times.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #yuji x reader #megumi x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #nobara x reader #maki zenin x reader #shoko x reader #sukuna x reader #choso x reader

[m0llygunn]

Hello! Can I request oneshot with Eddie and virgin reader?

Something like when they're talking casually and she confesses that she feels so insecure about being virgin at her age (22) when everyone she knows has boyfriends/girlfriends and had first sex a long time ago. But she hasn't even kissed anyone and she doesn't know how it works.

(She has also a big crush on Eddie but she's shy about it)

How do you think Eddie would react?

It's so personal for me but if you're not comfortable with this idea it's okay ☺️

Thank you for your time!

hi! sorry for how long it took! I didn't want to write something too too similar to Eddie's Notes, so it took me a minute to think something up, hope thats okay!

also this is my first request!! thank you! I hope you like it :)

it's not too explicit but 18+ only please!

wc: 2.4k+

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“How much do you wanna bet they’ll be fucking within the hour?” Eddie whispers, leaning in close enough for you to hear him.

“Huh?” you reply, catching Eddie’s gaze. He nods back to the couple you’ve both been sparring glances at ever since you sat down.

You and Eddie stopped at the diner to get late dinner after hanging out with the group at Steve’s house. He was just going to drive you home, but he insisted he was starving and you both had to stop for food. You’re not complaining, you’ve always had quite the soft spot for Eddie and more time with him is always welcomed.

You both sat at the back of the diner on the same side of the booth as Eddie insisted it was the best spot for people watching. Sitting in the other back corner of the restaurant was some girl you hardly recognized from high school and a guy who you assumed was her date.

To you, it looked innocent. They both sat on the same side of the booth, probably doing the same thing you and Eddie were doing. Their shoulders were just barely touching and they were making quick, shy glances at one another. To you, you thought that maybe it was a first date due to their nervousness, so for Eddie to think they’ll be fucking within the hour… you couldn’t help but look at him in pure confusion. 

“His hand’s been on her thigh the whole night and she’s been slowly inching it up, see,” he explains in a low voice, motioning down to under their table. You spare another glance and just as he said, their hands are just nearing the hem of her skirt. 

“I didn’t notice,” you say quietly, refocusing your attention on your food, picking at your fries.

To you, they looked innocent. You thought their nervousness was because it was a first date. What a stupid thing to think.

“Look, look,” Eddie says excitedly, leaning further into you, laying his arm across the back of the booth. You glance over as the guy's hand fully travels under the girl’s skirt. 

“Eddie, I can't watch that,” you say, turning away out of embarrassment for yourself and the couple.

“What’s wrong? Never fooled around in public before?” he teases, his arm behind you coming forward just enough to nudge your shoulder.

“No,” you say quietly, throwing down the fry you’ve been swirling around on your plate before crossing your arms over your chest. 

“What?” he laughs and you shrug. 

No, you haven’t fooled around in public. You haven’t fooled around, full stop. Not even a kiss. Not even a hand hold. Not in public nor in private. Nothing. 

“You’re telling me you haven’t gone on a date and the guy hasn’t gotten a little handsy with you?” Eddie teases further.

You’d have to go on dates for someone to get handsy with you. You shrug again, just faintly shaking your head. You turn your face away from Eddie only to be met with the sight of the guy's hand all the way up the girl's skirt— something you really don’t want to see. You redirect your gaze forward, having nowhere else to look at this point. 

“I don’t believe you,” he laughs, hand nudging your shoulder again. You shrug again, sighing heavily. 

“Eddie. I don’t go on dates,” you say, flatly. 

“Me neither really. I guess, it’s kind of an old school thing,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. He clearly doesn’t understand what you mean. You brave a glance at Eddie. You like him. You have for a while.

“Eddie, can I tell you something really embarrassing?”

He sets his drink down, and while you go back to avoiding his gaze, you can tell he’s making every attempt to meet yours. You look at him for a split second before looking down at the table once again.

“Yeah, of course,” he says quietly. You can feel his hand grazing your shoulder, fingers just barely brushing over your skin. As nervous and embarrassed as you are to say what you’re about to say, his light, gentle contact is sort of relaxing, soothing in a way. Eddie’s always been kind, you know he won’t be mean about it, that’s just not in his nature, but it’s still something you’re insecure about. 

“I don’t go on dates, or do anything like that,” you say, nodding your head over to the couple. His eyebrows raise before he relaxes into a light laugh, like he expected you to say something different maybe. 

“Okay… not everyone’s into public stuff, it’s fine,” he smiles. His hand settles completely on your shoulder and that gives you the courage to just blurt it all out. 

“I’m a virgin, Eddie,” you say, hushing your voice. 

“Oh?” he says, in a short sort of quiet gasp. If you thought he expected you to say something else earlier, you can tell that he really didn’t expect you to say that.

“Yeah,” you hum, hoping he’ll give you some other reaction other than his blank stare.

“Oh,” he says again, his eyes shifting down to your crossed arms before back up to meet your gaze. You cower under his look, regretting saying anything. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. It’s so embarrassing.” You say, shifting in the seat, not sure if you want to get up and leave or just hope that the earth opens up and swallows you whole. Eddie’s hand on your shoulder grows more firm, keeping you still.

“No— no. I’m just... I didn’t know. Is it… like, on purpose?” he asks tentatively, keeping his tone soft.

“No,” you answer, shrinking into yourself as the burning from your cheeks turns into your whole body lighting aflame. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, leaning into you, his hand on your shoulder pulling you in closer to him at the same time. 

The couple draw both yours and Eddie’s attention as the girl giggles loudly. When you look over at them, they’re both quickly shuffling out of their booth. The guy wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a kiss before taking her hand and guiding her out of the restaurant. It makes your stomach sink because that’s exactly what you’ve never had and it’s mocking you right to your face. 

“It’s not okay, Eddie, it’s embarrassing. Like, that—” you say, motioning to the direction that the couple just left in. “That’s what normal people my age do. Everyone’s had relationships and I haven’t done anything,” you say hastily, feeling entirely too fed up with yourself for being in this situation. It’s hard to not be upset with yourself when people around you are constantly reminding you how behind you are, even without them knowing it. 

Eddie squeezes your shoulder lightly. “I think you forget who you’re talking to right now,” he laughs.

“Eddie, you’re not a virgin,” you state.

“No, but I was. For a long time. Nobody was exactly lining up to get with the satanic super senior freak,” he says, adding emphasis to the names he’s been called over the years. You know he’s just saying this stuff to make you feel better about yourself, and it makes you feel worse. He shouldn’t have to put himself down. Eddie’s the best and it’s not fair for him to do that. 

“Yeah, but you’re not a ‘satanic super senior freak’. You’re cool, you’re in a band, you’re attractive. So many people would be lucky to be with you. It's different, you’re hot and funny— and you’re not 22 years old and still a virgin,” you blurt out, squeezing your folded arms over your chest harder. You shift in your seat again, contemplating getting up, but Eddie’s hand on your shoulder pulls you in even closer to him until your shoulder meets the edge of his chest and your hip meets his.

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m not judging you, you’re fine,” he says, softly.

“But—”

“I’m serious. If that experience hasn’t happened yet, it’s no big deal.”

You deflate into yourself, feeling the embarrassment burn hot inside of you. Eddie shifts, facing you but you keep your head down, avoiding his gaze. His free hand landing on your thigh startles you, making you look up at him in surprise. You’re met with a soft smile, like he knew that would get your attention. 

“You know, you’re attractive too. Very pretty. Just because some idiot hasn’t made the moves on you yet, doesn’t mean you aren’t.”

“Don’t say stuff just to be nice,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat for an entirely different reason. 

“I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you. You’re smart, and funny, and I like being around you,” he says, leaning in even closer, close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek.

“Eddie, I haven’t even kissed someone before,” you say, turning to him abruptly. You're nearly nose to nose with him, and it makes your heart beat too fast. You pull back a few inches, looking at Eddie but his gaze stays low on your face.

“Is it a bad time for me to say I’ve been dying to kiss you?” he asks, eyes still lingering low, and you suddenly realize it’s your lips he’s focusing on.

“What?” you say, your brows pinching in confusion. 

“I want to kiss you,” he repeats with clarity, eyes meeting yours. You shake your head, surely this is a joke. 

“Stop making fun of me,” you huff, uncrossing your arms. You put your hand over Eddie’s to pry it from your thigh. He let’s go, taking your hand in his instead, making you stop dead in your tracks.

“Why do you think I brought you here? Why do you think we’re sitting in the back of the diner?” he says, raising his brows. “And it’s not just because I wanted to spy on the couple who was practically fucking back here.”

“I don’t know.” 

“Because I’ve been dying to kiss you. It’s awfully hard to get you alone, you know?” he says. He smiles at you softly, squeezing your hand in his. Your stomach flutters. You’ve thought about this moment, wanted it so badly— yet something inside of you still holds you back. 

“I don’t know how,” you say, feeling flustered. He squeezes your hand, dipping his face to meet your gaze.

“It’s easy, just come closer,” he whispers. You do as he says and he hums lowly. His hand on your shoulder moves to the back of your head, keeping you moving into him at a steady pace and he inches forward, meeting you in the middle. 

You let your eyes flutter shut, and you feel his lips on yours, light as a feather. He presses into you more firmly, and when his lips start to move, you freeze up, not knowing what to do. His hand on the back of your head moves to your neck, caressing you softly— like an encouragement. He slows down and you take the leap, following his lead. You match his pace, moving your lips like he does, copying the movements, and he hums again— like a praise this time. 

“Easy, isn’t it?” he says, just barely moving away from your lips. 

“Yeah,” you agree breathily, feeling like your whole body is tingling. 

“You’re a natural,” he says. You feel his breath against your lips and you don’t know if you want to run away or lean in for more. He doesn’t give you the chance either way before he’s tugging you closer to his chest so your head rests on his shoulder. His hand guides you to look up at him.

“I like you for you. Not the experiences you have or haven’t had,” he says, meeting your gaze. His words make your stomach explode with butterflies but your head stops you from letting yourself believe his sentiment. 

“Don’t you think it’s embarrassing though?” you ask.

“Would you think it was embarrassing if it were the other way around? Would you like me less if I were a virgin?”

“No,” you reply honestly. You would never like Eddie less for something superficial like that. The way he looks at you so softly is a testament to how good he is, you wouldn’t like him any less even if he were a virgin. 

“Things happen at different times for people. I’m sure you’ve done all kinds of things I haven’t done before… like graduating on your first try,” he says with a smirk.

“Don’t put yourself down just to make me feel better,” you say, leaning further up towards him, squinting your eyes into a glare so he knows you’re serious. 

He laughs at you, nodding his head gently before continuing.“I’m just saying, sex isn’t the end all be all of who you are. Not to sound preachy, but it’s only embarrassing if you let it embarrass you— and it shouldn’t. At all. Ever,” he emphasizes, rubbing his hand against your side. His lips quirk up into a smirk—one you’re familiar with and know that it typically means he’s up to no good. “And if you ever want to not be a virgin, I’m right here,” he says, digging his fingers into your ribs, making you laugh. 

It was a joke— him being there if you ever wanted to not be a virgin, but then it was the truth. When Eddie drove you home, he helped you brush up on your kissing skills. Right before you went inside for the night, he asked you on a date. 

While it didn’t happen that night or even that week, it did happen eventually. And when it did, Eddie was slow with you. He was patient with you, and made sure you were comfortable the whole time. You’ve always heard the romanticized versions of people losing their virginity, and how it was so perfect, and this or that, but with Eddie, it really was. He was someone you cared for and trusted and that’s what made it perfect. 

He quelled all your negative thoughts. He made sure you knew that your sex life didn’t dictate who you were. What experiences you had or didn’t have doesn’t make you or break you.

He took you on a date, he kissed you, held your hand, held you. He took you on more dates, called you his, did all the things you dreamt about— the things you were worried you would never get. 

Everything you hadn’t done, you did with Eddie. For a long time you thought you were missing out. In some ways, maybe you were, but if you had to choose, you’d do it all over again exactly the same, as long as you’d get to do it all over again with Eddie. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

thank you again!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson friends to lovers #eddie munson x virgin!reader

[avisisisis]

been rewatching rtte

toothless is called T multiple times, but the letter T doesn't exist in the alphabet of this world

i think hiccup was also called H???

hiccup went to the wedding of the man who tried to kill him and his family multiple times. no wonder he thought he could change drago's mind

snotlout is canonically a theater kid

"you're so small and cuddly" "please never say that again"

the twins are really smart, but they're also just stupid

hiccup straight up disappears when he's working on something

heather had a super noticeable crush on astrid

fishlegs got a love interest!! a plus size main character actually has a cool, badass love interest!

it was super hetnormative but it was cute

there was an island full of flying women who were implied to regularly commit cannibalism

hiccup taught all the riders how to fly with toothless, that's so sweet

everyone is a flat earther except for the twins

hiccup almost directly killed a lot of people

and killed a LOT more when destroying their ships

“scalding– cal..ding--" "toothle, plama bla!" was pretty much the funniest part of the entire series

dagur was bullied as a kid by a guy 8 years older than him who literally tattooed an imagine of him beating up little dagur in his arm??? What was that all about

actually we need to talk about how messed up everything about dagur is and about how the things that could've/did happen(ed) to him may be the reasons why he's Like That

just why was he imprisoned by the outcasts??? he didn't do anything to them directly

oof my brain is spiraling. "he loved you" "ig now we'll never know" what do you mean he didn't know if his dad loved him

there's a technically musical episode

tuffnut became hiccup's defense attorney and immediately got him the death sentence

hiccup regularly jumps off cliffs

he also jumped off a boat, with his arms tied and without toothless. just where did he think he was going

snotlout's annoying attitude is actually because spitelout pressures him too much and he feels like he has to be perfect for his dad :((

THE 'HICCUP'S EVIL MIRROR' VILLAIN THEME DONE RIGHT YESS!!!

viggo is the best httyd villain change my mind (you can't, swords at sundown, you may bring backup but i will win on my own)

skrill comeback skrill comeback SKRILL COMEBACK!!!!

"COMEEE TO DADDY"

what is a boar pit???

oh my god i had missed this series so much. it has no right to be this funny

this was my childhood. it has forever shaped the way i am

berserker heather the unhinged >>>

actually good disability rep! yay

hiccup complains about his peg leg pinching him

he straight up cannot walk without it and it is shown many times

"well, there are the benefits of a metal leg" after it got caught in a bear trap

funny moments, like snotlout trying to steal it to use it as a weapon

the jokes!! toothless laughing at the jokes!!! hiccup being so fucking done with the twins, who are always making the jokes!

there's an episode where everyone is so sleep deprived they actually start spiraling

astrid becomes a happy go lucky girl, hugs snotlout and tells him he's handsome

the fucking mood swings snotlout got were insane

the twins were straight up just hallucinating

"i sent them to wash their dragons, how could they mess that up?" cut to heather falling on her face with a bucket full of water in her hands

fishlegs becomes so paranoid, he's yelling at everyone all the time

"don't you know the trapper's trap can trap the trapper?? ...oh gods, i must be losing it, i'm quoting dagur"

YOOOO VALKA!!!! it's so nice to see her

hiccup tried to murder dagur to stop him from getting to toothless, which is scary bc it shows just how far he's willing to go for his bff, but also funny because hiccup. that was not going to work

oh the hiccstrid slowburn, how i have missed you

the twins's made up language

there was a beach episode turned murder mystery and a musical episode held at gun point

hiccup has a whole little speech that he periodically gives astrid to remind her that the twins serve a purpose

#i'll make more of these later #i'm just very bored and i love rtte #race to the edge #rtte #how to train your dragon #httyd #httyd rtte #toothless #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #astrid hofferson #snotlout jorgenson #fishlegs ingerman #dagur the deranged #tuffnut thorston #ruffnut thorston #heather the unhinged #avis' post

[chelseeebe]

on my knees (for you).

a/n: more virgin!eddie tales WOOO!! i just can’t shake this little pathetic man and i want to write him being so down bad for ever and ever. thinking of some steddiexreader that includes the little virgin boy too…

this is a continuation to seven minutes in heaven but really can be read on its own, it just mentions events that happened in the first fic.

18+. smut. mentions of weed. eddie being horrifically pathetic again. no mentions of y/n.

eddie’s sure you’ve pavlov’d him.

his cock springs into action the second you appear. and see that wouldn’t be a bad thing except for the fact that he sees you multiple times a day, in class or around campus and it makes him look like a dirty perv.

even now, he’s sat trying to kill it off as you sit next to him eating your lunch. thigh brushing against his every now and again and his mind is going wild. he’s trying to think what would happen if he just lifted you onto the table and fucked the shit out of you right here.

well, in all actuality, he’d probably last all of about ten thrusts before busting a nut and subsequently dying of embarrassment. maybe it’s not wise.

the thing is, now you had this little arrangement with each other, his erections had been ramped up to level ten. and he solely blames you for that, by the way.

he’d never known someone to be so eager all the time. you’re like a fucking rabbit. tearing at his clothes the minute you’re alone already soaking your little panties. eddie had debated swiping some last time he was over but had decided against it at the last minute which he sorely regretted the second he got home.

it had mostly just been a lot of you riding him in an attempt to get him to last longer than just a few minutes so you hadn’t really.. experimented much. he didn’t mind though, getting to stare at your tits bouncing in his face as you fucked yourself on his cock? how could he complain?

your fingers wrap around his knee, leaning in to his ear, ‘i’m free for the next two hours.. what about you?’ ever so slowly traipsing your fingers higher, his cock jumping to attention. not here. please not fucking here.

he’s got steve harrington sat opposite and really does not fancy having to explain to him as to why he’s this hard at lunch time.

it wasn’t like it was a matter of life or death but it was just easier to keep doing this without everyone knowing. because then it becomes a thing and nobody wanted that. eddie’s sure at least some people have gathered what’s happening. especially argyle who had woken up rather confused to find you spooning him on your tiny couch, but had just let out a tiny bro? and fallen right back to sleep.

‘i-i have class,’ tentatively placing his hand on yours to stop it ascending any further. eyeing the other participants at the table. oh fuck. steve definitely knew. looking over with a slight glint of humour in his eye, waiting until you re-emerged from eddie’s ear to say something.

the stupid smug prick. he probably couldn’t wait to humiliate eddie in front of all your friends. then he’d swoop in with his blonde highlights and tinted strawberry lip balm. he couldn’t stand it.

surely you weren’t interested in that? really, eddie is the complete opposite of whatever the fuck that is and there’s no way in hell you’d continue to fuck him if you weren’t a fan.

‘skip class for me?’ you whisper into his ear. for me. for me. fuck. he’d do anything for you. you could’ve told him to flip the table so you could fuck right here and he would’ve.

his breath hitches in his throat but he nods quickly, squeezing your hand and dipping his head low. the bulge in his jeans was fairly obvious at this point but maybe if he got up quick enough no one would be able to tell.

your hand vacates his leg, leaving a burning sensation in it’s wake. you’re shoving your shit into your bag, standing from the shared table. oh you meant now. while over your friends were still here. you were going to walk off together. to your room. oh god. that wasn’t obvious, was it?

‘where are you goin’?’ steve asks, watching intently when you jab at eddie’s shoulder to make him move. he does immediately, grabbing his back pack and determining just how he can slide out of here without showcasing his hard on to the world.

‘we’re going to smoke.. that alright with you?’ you remark, hands poised on your hips. eddie loved it when you were like this. his heart racing faster every time you scolded him or pouted those pretty, plump lips his way.

‘sweet, i’ll come!’ argyle sits up straight, awakened by the mention of weed. of course.

‘no,’ you bark, getting fed up of waiting for eddie to stand up and instead grabbing his collar, yanking at the denim, ‘sorry, closed invitation,’ wiggling your eyebrows at the long haired boy.

this elicits a chorus of ooohs from the table as eddie finally slides from the bench, turning immediately to follow your lead. he felt like a massive loser following you around. if you got him a leash and told him to get on all fours he would. and he likes think that that’s understandable.

‘oh my god they’re so annoying,’ you hush, his legs rushing to catch up with your irritated strides. did he look like such a lost dog to other people? not that he cared much.

‘i know.. it’s steve,’ he replies, realising that there was probably too much venom in that response to pass it off as something casual. yeah, maybe he was still a tiny smidgen jealous that you two had such natural chemistry. he is human after all. anybody would be.

‘he’s an ass but it’s all of them, so nosy,’ you chuckle, linking your arm with his now that you’re out of view of your prying friends.

he had wondered if you were ashamed of him, or to be seen with him at least. it was understandable, you were literally smoking hot and he was.. a pathetic little nerd who was completely obsessed with you. but to stand up and quiet openly lead him off to your room in front of everyone, maybe you weren’t.

‘you’re not like.. ashamed to fuck me, are you?’ regretting it the instant it came out of his mouth. he didn’t want to know the answer really. and even if you were, he wasn’t going to complain. it’s not like girls were falling at his feet, let alone girls as pretty as you.

‘no!’ you hit his arm, expelling the breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding, ‘eddie be serious, it’s not like they don’t all know anyway,’ rounding the corner to your house.

he had snuck in a multitude of times over the last few weeks, in fact it was every day at this point. running up the stairs past nancy’s room, thinking how much easier it would be if you were on the ground floor. then he might be able to shuffle through your window and back out in the early hours.

you fumble for your keys, knowing that the house would be empty at this time and quite proudly let him in the door. he doesn’t reply to your answer because he had assumed that the pair of you were successful at being incredibly sneaky.

‘do you have a problem with it being a secret?’ you ask, the door slamming shut behind you.

oh god no. even if he did, he’d never tell you in fear of ruining it all. the only thing he wanted to do was to rub it into steve’s annoying face. ha ha. this massive loser had gotten into your pants before he had. well, at least he thinks.

‘no,’ it comes out sounding more like a question than a statement, which he chastises himself for straight away. if he had half the confidence any normal person had, he would’ve stopped this conversation in its tracks. shoved you back against the wall or something and shut you up with his mouth.

‘no?’

‘yeah, no,’ he repeats, sounding much more assured in himself.

‘good,’ you mutter and he notices the glint in your eye, hints of a smirk beginning to appear. he blinks and you’re stood before him, eyeing up his lips. his jeans had just got a hell of a lot tighter.

isn’t it crazy that someone’s eyes could have that affect on someone? or actually, how just the sheer presence of them in the room could have someone stumbling over their words.

‘i.. don’t care at all,’ staggered breaths as he’s backed up against the wall, shoulder blade hitting into one of the framed pictures on the wall. he wants to yelp at the pain but instead keeps his eyes solidly on yours.

he’s been practicing you see. watching any and all videos he could find of how to be a dominant man alongside copious amounts of porn and had gathered a bunch of mens help magazines. they were supposed to teach him how to be more strong willed, to flip the upper hand over to him.

except, they’d really done nothing at all. well actually, he’d now discovered that his hand was no longer sufficient compared to the earth shattering orgasms you’d given him. if there was a way for him to bottle that feeling, he’s sure that it’d be more addicting than heroin. probably make more money, too.

‘shall we go upstairs?’ you ask, eyelashes fluttering. yes. god yes. he’s desperate to get upstairs and into your room so he can disappoint you for five whole minutes this time.

‘yes.. yes please,’ his chest rising and falling rapidly. everything he had practiced had gone to shit the second you’d touched him. brilliant. 

you simply smirk, grabbing his hand to lead him up the stairs the exact same way you had the last five nights of this week.

shoving him into your bedroom and kicking the door shut behind you. you’re ferocious with it. and he wonders if you needed him as badly as he needed you. he just longed to be inside of you or next to you or just in the same room as you. he needed that feeling pumped into him intravenously.

you’re on him the second the door’s shut, grabbing at his chest, his shirt and his pants all at once. pushing him back towards your unmade bed with such urgency that he stumbles, pulling you on top of him. your lips are everywhere, pecking at his jawline and his neck. going over the violet markings you’d left previously. he was embarrassed about them at first but had quickly learned to appreciate them and the fact that you weren’t afraid to mark him.

you’re shuffling out of your jeans already, kicking them off of your ankle as you rest your knees either side of his thighs. he only notices because the frilly lace waistband of your panties catches against the button on his jeans. are these what you wear normally or is this something you did for him?

a low moan is pulled from his throat when your skilful fingers unbutton his jeans and make their way onto his rock hard cock. did you paint your fingernails for him too? the shimmering violet looked so good wrapped around his cock. he’s sure any colour would as long as it was on your hand.

‘always so hard for me, aren’t you?’ you mutter against his neck, still fondling his sensitive balls. his toes curl in his socks, keeping both feet firmly on the floor in an effort to ground himself.

there’d been a few instances of him cumming.. prematurely. and by prematurely he means, the second you touched him. he blames those times on the weed though. it was the only reasonable explanation.

‘s-sit on my face,’ he blurts out, unaware of what dark hole that had come from.

your eyes narrow, gazing down at him with your mouth hung open. that was definitely the wrong thing to say. he’d seen it in this one video and had started salivating at the thought of your pillowy thighs wrapped around his ears.

eddie hadn’t quite been able to make you cum yet. like, he was certainly making progress and you’d gotten close a couple of times but you had ultimately had to get yourself off. which he loved to watch.. he just wanted to be involved. he lived in pure amazement at how you just seemed to get there so quickly. sometimes it wasn’t even a minute with your hand between your thighs and you were whining and writhing around. how?

‘eds.. that’s- are you sure?’ eyeing him cautiously. why didn’t you just trust him? he’s pretty confident he had the technique down, ashamedly having practiced on his hand one night. yeah, that was awkward.

and the erection it had given him was too.

‘i’m sure.. please,’ he had figured out that as soon as he begged for something, he pretty much got it. maybe you had a fetish for pathetic men or something but all he had to do was plead a little and you were pouncing on him.

‘do you even know-,’

‘-yes i know what to do,’ he barks a little hastily. at least now you’d either punish him or would listen to him. either was fine.

you eyebrows fly up your forehead and he thinks for a second that he’s really in the shit. his cock jumps at the thought of you slapping him again or even better, wrapping your hand around his neck like you’d done the other day. now that really got him going.

‘okay.. but if it’s too much let me know,’ lifting yourself from his waist and shuffling upward towards his head. he’s drooling just thinking about it. wrapping his arms around the backs of your thighs just as the man in the video had. he could keep you in place perfectly like this.

‘come on,’ he sighs, watching as you slide your underwear down and off to the side, stopped just before his eager, salivating mouth. everything he had practiced came down to this very moment and he was more than ready to show you what he’d learned.

‘you’re so bossy now.. i don’t like it,’ frowning down to him, hand coming to hold onto your headboard. he had hoped that you’d pull on his hair again but was for sure not going to ask. ‘remember to tell me if it’s too much.. slap me or something, i’ll know,’ biting down onto your bottom lip.

he nods quickly, eyes sliding away from yours to your pussy poised above him. now, he didn’t have any much experience with pussy but he’d say that yours was perfect.

without wanting to waste anymore time, he pulls you down onto his mouth, tongue immediately lapping at your folds. just the way he’d practiced. he didn’t really have any preconceptions of what pussy would taste like but he’s pleasantly surprised. he’d keep you here all day if he could, who needed to breathe anyway?

‘ho-holy shit,’ you remark, clawing at your bed frame for a little balance. he thinks that’s a good thing, eyes trained on your face to determine whether he was doing this right or not.

his tongue slides up, circling around your sensitive clit. yeah, that’s it. he can tell when your eyes roll into the back of your head, hips stuttering on his face.

‘jesus eddie,’ you breathe, just hearing his name tumble from your lips does fucking wonders for him. it’s all the encouragement he needs to continue his assault on your cunt.

he murmurs something in utter gratitude when your hand leaves the headboard to instead tangle into his hair. mouth vibrating against your pussy which is another hit. the gorgeous sounds of your moans fill the room, only slightly muffled by your legs over his ears.

it’s now or never. he has to pull out the big guns.

tongue leaving your clit to slide into your dripping hole. soaking his chin, his lips and probably his shirt in your arousal. he didn’t mind one bit. it’s like a badge of honour to know that he was responsible for the mess.

‘fuck,’ you hiss, fisting his curls as your eyes squeeze shut. eddie wants to scream when your eyes roll back, his fingers digging into your fleshy thighs.

oh my god. this was paradise. utter heaven. his heart swelling a little knowing that you were cussing fretting because of his mouth. you were so gorgeous from this angle. well, from all angles but particularly this one. looking totally blissed out on top of him, your lips opening to let out the most insatiable noises he’d ever heard.

your fingers yank at his curls, legs trembling around his flushed face, ‘i’m gonna- eds, i’m cumming,’ thighs clamping around his head as your hips roll forward on their own, trying to escape the overstimulation.

eddie’s desperate to keep you there, using his palms to hold you steady while he’s literally making out with your pussy. lapping at your clit, at the juices that now covered his face. except his stomach tightens, slowing his pace until he realises what’s happening.

oh shit.

his hips buck up into the air on their own and his boxers feel incredibly wet and sticky. he’s just came in his pants by eating you out. that’s ridiculous. utterly unbelievable that someone could be that tragic.

you were definitely going to laugh at him when you realised but there’s literally not a chance that he could hide that. he lets go of his grip on your thighs, moving one hand over his crotch as you shuffle off of him.

bastard. pathetic fucking bastard.

you hadn’t even touched him yet. how was he going to explain that? i’m just so sickly obsessed with you that i came in my pants. that didn’t sound like anything a normal person would say.

his eyes remain shut, laboured breathing as his mind attempts to take him out of this room and far, far away. it’s not fucking working. especially not when he can hear your panting next to him, the rustling of the sheets as you sort them out.

your eyes travel to his covered crotch with a confused expression until you notice the dark latch and it finally clicks. ‘did you cum in your pants?’ you exclaim and he thinks that this right here might just kill him off.

he nods quickly, point blank refusing to open his eyes. it was easier this way, at least his tears of embarrassment would be somewhat hidden. you could’ve just done the polite thing and ignored it. made up some excuse about going to class and then you could disappear from his life. god, why did you have to be such a-

‘that’s so hot,’ you continue, cutting his thoughts short at just the right spot. pressing your warm body into his side as you settle into bed.

‘what? no it’s not..’ brave enough to open his eyes to look at you, confusion plastered over his face. surely you were just joking. no woman in the history of the world would find his inadequacy hot.

‘who are you to tell me what i can or can’t find hot?’ prodding at his cheek, offence ribbed throughout your response.

this surely requires a marriage proposal or something of that nature, right? like, there’s not a possibility that he could ever let you get away now.

his lips twitch into a smile, taking his hand from his crotch to wrap his arm around your shoulder. the confidence was next level and almost unheard of but he had to show you a little appreciation after you’d just told him his premature orgasm was attractive.

‘don’t ever tell me what i can and can’t like again,’ you jokingly warn, resting your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

he speaks up after a few moments of silence, unsure of if you’re even still awake, ‘thank you.. for letting me do that,’ staring up at the ceiling. eddie thinks that he likes eating pussy. really likes it. especially yours.

you laugh sleepily, throwing an arm over his torso. it’s music to his ears. if making you cum was top priority, then making you laugh was a solid number two.

‘you don’t have to thank me every time,’ yawning into his chest. it’s technically still the middle of the day but if you were going to sleep, he sure as hell wouldn’t complain.

instead he’d lie there as still as he possibly could. kinda like when a cat falls asleep on your lap and you just can’t move for the rest of the day. he’s prepared to take that sacrifice.

-

he must’ve dozed off at some point too because he wakes up to a short knock on your bedroom door.

you’re dead to the world. completely unaffected by the sound, curled into the blanket. super adorable with your cheeks squished togeth-

the door knocks again and he jumps up, not wanting whoever it is to wake you. he hadn’t exactly thought of the consequences of answering your door. half naked at that.

‘oh! eddie.. wasn’t expecting you,’ nancy responds, eyebrows flying up her forehead. he’s such a moron. it would’ve been ten times easier to just ignore the door because now he had to explain why he was stood in his underwear in your room.

perfect.

‘oh yeah.. got too high.. had to sleep it off, yanno?’ chuckling awkwardly, desperately trying to hide behind the door. he hopes to the high heavens that his boxers aren’t stained. he’d either look like the worlds biggest creep or like the completely pathetic freak that he was. he wasn’t keen on either option.

only you could know just how pitiful he truly was.

her eyes travel to his bare legs and back up again, ‘uh huh.. well, we’re ordering pizza if you two want in..?’ giving him a tiny smile. she’s so polite that now he just feels weird. god dammit, they’re friends, his pasty little legs being out should not make him feel so exposed.

‘oh yeah uh.. i’ll ask her,’ glancing over to your very unconscious state on the bed. he wasn’t keen on the idea of waking you but did think that it’d be rather unforgivable if he didn’t. plus he was hungry.

‘okay.. don’t take too long,’ wiggling her eyebrows at him and disappearing off back downstairs. shutting your door with a quiet click.

fucking nancy wheeler and her politeness.

he slinks back over to the bed, shaking your shoulder ever so gently, ‘hey.. wake up,’ trying his hardest not to alarm you.

it works somewhat, your eyes springing open as you wake. blinking up at him from your blanket cocoon. he feels terrible but man’s gotta eat. it does occur to him now that it would’ve been a pleasant surprise to wake you with a pizza rather than just so abruptly.

‘wha- what?’ rubbing your tired eyes as you come to. you’re so cute like this, he wouldn’t mind waking up to this sight every morning. okay, maybe he’s getting ahead of himself here.

‘er.. they’re ordering pizza.. nancy asked me if you wanted anything?’ still standing sheepishly over your bed. his eyes trail down to where your thigh had poked out of the duvet, how they were keeping his face warm barely a few hours ago..

‘oh,’ you sigh, ‘yeah.. just cheese please,’ snuggling back up into the bed, ‘there’s a twenty on my desk, get whatever you want,’ closing your eyes again.

‘oh.. okay,’ he nods, even though you obviously can’t see him. deciding that this time, he’ll be more appropriately dressed to converse with your roommates. seemed like the right thing to do. plus he’s sure robin would definitely have plenty to say if he came downstairs half-dressed. and none of it good.

he ignores the money on your desk. as fucking if he’d let you pay for your own food after you had so graciously fed him earlier. not happening. like, ever again.

following the voices into your kitchen to find nancy and robin sat around the kitchen island, phone poised in her hand ready to go.

‘you’re in luck, i was just about to call.. what d’you want?’ robin asks, raising a singular brow. nancy had obviously filled her in on what had been behind your bedroom door.

‘just cheese.. please,’ ignoring how ridiculous the unintended rhyme made him sound.

‘is that for both of you?’ she looks on, a glint of something indescribable in her eye. he wishes he knew how to decipher women. you’re all so fucking complicated and weird. in the best way, of course.

‘uh.. yeah?’ looking on tentatively, unsure of what she could possible be implying.

‘she won’t share, better to get your own,’ she nods. oh. she was being nice. he’s sure there’ll be a catch somewhere.

‘oh right.. okay,’ he fumbles around in his pocket for his wallet, tossing a couple twenties onto the marble. maybe if he covered their food too, he’d get in their good books and would be welcomed back with open arms. he’s sure he could endure that.

pay for food and get magnificent pussy in return. seemed fair.

the two girls sit in silence until he gets to the bottom of the stairs and then robin pipes up once again, ‘will we be seeing you around here regularly, mr. munson?’

he pauses, staring back into the kitchen at the two girls. he’s not sure how to even respond. because actually, he’d been at your house every night this week, right under their noses. and if he were to hazard a guess, he’d be here most of next week too. and the next.

okay, maybe he was getting ahead of himself.

‘uh.. maybe?’ he shrugs, chuckling nervously. robin’s eyes are like slits, staring him down. she’d always been rather intimidating and now was no exception.

‘hm,’ she nods, shooing him off back up the stairs, ‘you’re dismissed,’ still clutching onto the clunky plastic phone.

he disappears rapidly, not wanting to hang around to find out what else she was going to pry about it. eddie reckons that he’s good at secrets, but if he was truly pressed, he’s not so confident in his ability to keep quiet.

you’re awake when he returns to your room, still dozing in bed but awake. he slinks back in, grateful to be away from their prying questions. you’re so sweet like this. not that he didn’t also adore the bossy, demanding side of you but he appreciated the docile part too.

‘you didn’t take my money,’ you point out, frowning at him from the pillow. he shuffles over to your side of the bed, smiling sheepishly.

‘i wanted to pay.. to say thank you,’ he nods, fiddling with his belt loop. he’s aware that you had already told him to stop saying thank you but he truly had to express his gratitude somehow.

‘stop doing that,’ you frown, glaring up at him, hand appearing from the blanket to grab onto his shirt. ‘if i didn’t want to have sex with you, i wouldn’t,’ fisting the material to pull him closer to the bed.

eddie’s not the most sturdy, stumbling and ultimately falling on top of you, just about catching himself before his head smashes into yours. that’d look really good to the girls he was trying to impress if he gave you a black eye, robin would probably get the pitchfork ready to murder him.

you squirm beneath him but your smile says it all, still clasped onto his tee. you’re slightly intimidating like this, well, you were all the time. but especially like this. just mere millimetres away from his face, gazing up at him with those bright eyes. he’s sure they held the glow of a thousand suns in them.

he breathes out shakily, fully aware that his entire body weight was on top of yours, ‘yeah.. shit, sorry,’ far too mesmerised by your eyes to want to move just yet.

‘apology accepted,’ you grin, smashing your lips to his, hand still fisted into his shirt. it’s lazy and messy, tongue creeping into his mouth the second you get the chance.

eddie can feel your thighs move, spreading apart to pull him in closer despite the barrier between you. holy shit. he didn’t think he’d find this so incredibly hot. grinding against you between the blanket.

downstairs, robin and nancy share a certain look when they notice the faint knocking of your headboard against the wall. robin’s nose curling the second she realises just what was happening. feeling the instant regret of ever asking him if he was to be around more often.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic

[mediumgayitalian]

“Come here, you dweeb. Let me fix it.”

Will pouts, dragging his feet over and slumping half on top of him. Nico allows it with a smile and a roll of his eyes, pinching Will’s shoulder. He doesn’t react except for a wounded noise, muffled in Nico’s lap, so the situation is evidently quite dire.

“It’s just hair, Will.”

“But I worked on it!” He shifts around until he’s got his head in Nico’s lap, face turned towards him, body curled up on the grass around him. Nico brushes his tangled bangs off his forehead, meeting his big sad eyes. “I spent forty minutes with a stupid brush! And yet!”

“And yet,” Nico agrees, unable to appropriately school is face into one of somber understanding. Will scowls at him for his lack of proper sympathy, a little bit of genuine hurt in his eyes, so Nico leans down and kisses right between his brows in apology. He seems mollified, if only slightly, or at least he leans into Nico’s touch and stops mumbling quite so much.

“‘S’not fair.”

“Mhm.“

“Your hair listens to your instructions.”

“Yep.”

“Even Cecil’s hair listens to him, and no one listens to Cecil.”

Nico purses his lips thoughtfully. “I think Austin listens to Cecil.”

“Yes, I know. It’s an ongoing issue. I’m trying to train him out of it.”

“And how’s that going?” Nico murmurs, curling a strand of golden blond hair around his finger.

“Oh, well, I’m doing my best, so of course it’s going horribly.”

Nico snorts. He resists the urge to hold his palms to Will’s cheeks and kiss every single freckle at light speed, because he will screech something about how Nico is one-upping him in the romance department or something stupid like that. Instead he settles for looking at his dumb dramatic boyfriend’s face and marvelling over the fact that the cutest boy in the entire world, and Nico is being totally objective, hunts around camp until he finds whatever tree Nico is hiding under and curls up into a ball around him and trusts Nico to hold him while he complains about stupid things that genuinely hurt his feelings a little. It’s nice. So many people at camp are still so rigid around him, like he’s collecting information for their judgement day or something. Will prefers to exercise his lesser-known Apollonian talent of being a bigger drama queen than the god himself.

“Stay still,” Nico says softly, moving Will around so he’s laying perpendicular to Nico, now, head centered in his lap and staring up at the sky. Will sighs and squirms a little and turns his head to press a kiss to Nico’s knee, scrunching up his face and releasing it, and then settles in the position.

Humming something soft that exists on the fringes of his foggy memories, he sinks his hands into Will’s hair.

“It’s not that bad,” he promises, moving slowly and pausing whenever he comes across a knot.

Will harrumphs.

“I mean it, Marilyn Monroe. You can tone down the histrionics.”

“I used gel.”

Nico flicks a dried clump of it onto Will’s forehead, amused. “I can see that.”

“I followed every single one of Mitchell’s instructions!”

“I bet.”

“And yet!”

“And, yet.”

Nico has a sneaking suspicion that someone made a comment about Will’s hair, in the last few weeks. He can never confirm it and Will has been shifty about it every time he asks, but Nico has noticed the uptick in hoods and hats the past month and his little flinches every time Nico reaches up and tugs on it. Despite being oddly confident about the oddest things — why he is so proud of being able to fit his fist in his mouth, Nico will never know — Will is very sensitive to how people think of him. He needs to know he’s liked, and when people don’t like him, he gets…desperate, pleasing. The opposite of Nico, who becomes worse in an attempt to push them away on his own terms.

Nico leans down and presses a long, lingering kiss to his forehead.

“I like your hair, you know.”

“It’s a stupid mess.”

He smooths down a handful of it, pressing it over Will’s eye. He manages to keep a straight face for one, two, three seconds before he huffs a laugh, batting Nico’s hands away. Nico grins.

“I like the stupid mess.”

“Yeah, well, you like a lot of weird things.”

“Like you?” Nico suggests, pressing another kiss to the tip of his rounded nose.

“Shut up.”

Another strange thing about him, that Nico has to duck his head to hide his automatic smile: he gets embarrassed easily.

Nico never expected it of him, with all the dorky, medical-themed pickup lines and general shamelessness in his affection towards everybody on Earth, but especially Nico. When the poking, prodding attraction is turned on him, however, he shuts down like an overloaded Playstation. Nico can sometimes see the error messages playing behind its eyes. It’s hilarious.

“Will.” He pokes him in the cheek. “Hey.”

“What,” Will grumbles.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

Watching the slow spread of red from below the collar of his shirt to the roots of his hair is a delight. Nico watches in glee, wrestling Will’s hands away when he tries to slap them over his face.

“Shut up! Leave me alone! Go — flirt with somebody else!”

“You’d curse them to speak in rhymes for ten years,” Nico teases.

Will makes an agonised noise. “Who! Asked you! Shut up!”

“You’d sic Kayla on anyone who so much as winks at me, you jealous bitch.”

“I would not!”

“You would so. You rolled your eyes at everything Percy said for three weeks when you found out I used to crush on him —”

“I did not!”

“— and you didn’t even have the balls to ask me out, back then.”

“You are a — peddler of falsehoods! A prevaricator, a perjurer, and a fabulist!”

“And you sound like you swallowed a thesaurus,” Nico snickers. He catches the hand Will flails at him, pressing a kiss to the wrist, which only serves to fluster him more. He decides to take mercy when the kisses he trails down his arms result in one loud, long, tortured screech, pulling back and giving him some space.

Notably, he doesn’t move from Nico’s lap.

“I like it,” Nico admits, once Will has calmed down some. “I like that you’ve liked me for so long.”

Will peeks through the fingers he has covering his eyes. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Yes.” Nico squeezes his shoulders. “And endearing, which seems to be your sweet spot.” He presses a much softer kiss to the underside of Will’s ear, lingering there until he sighs, slumping under all the tension finally leaving his body. “I love you, Will. I love your clumsiness and your rambles and your nose and your freckles and your awkwardness and your jealousy and your hair and I love you, Will, all of you. Even the embarrassing weird parts.” He kisses him again. “Especially the weird parts.”

Will breathes slowly, carefully, evenly, face pressed to the inside of Nico’s thigh. His long eyelashes tickle his skin. Nico can feel the press of his Adam’s apple when he swallows, pulsing against his calf.

“I never thought you were a freak.”

Nico brushes his knuckles over his cheek. “I know.”

“I used to — talk about you. All the time. And your oxytocin levels.”

He smiles.

“I know.”

“Lee had a — chart.” Some of the flush rises back up in his cheeks. “A ‘Days Since We’ve Heard About Di Angelo’ chart.”

Nico bites his lip. Hard.

“The number never got higher than six.”

“…I am trying really, really hard, Will.”

Will sighs.

“You can laugh.”

Nico cracks up, trying desperately to muffle his giggles in his bitten fist. It doesn’t work very well, but the glare Will sends him is somewhat softened by the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Gods, you are — a mess.”

“Mhm.”

Nico cups the side of his face. Will turns, slightly, enough to press a kiss to the centre of his palm and then stay there, eyes closed, breathing against his sword-callused skin.

“I love you too, by the way. Obviously.”

“I know.”

“Don’t Han Solo me, you bastard.”

“Go ahead and try to stop me,” Nico challenges, grinning into the passionately indignant kiss Will presses to his lips, finally, letting Nico curl his hands in his hair.

#i’m in love w rizzed up nico i’m sorry will is such a flailing mess there’s no way he’s the one with game #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #i’ll acknowledge that will does actually have a fair bit of game but #as soon as nico figures out how to exploit his dorkiness. cmon. #bro as soon as nico finds out how long will has liked him 😭😭 he’s done for fr #nico di angelo/will solace #nico/will #will/nico #solangelo #established solangelo #fluff #100 ways #100 ways to say i love you #whipped will solace #whipped nico di angelo #down bad will solace #will solace #nico di angelo #my writing #longpost

[dragonpotter]

i find it funny how allicent says that viserys is "blind" when it comes to rhaenyra's sons and rhaenyra in general. of course he is not blind, he knows very well how his daughter is, he knows her son's aren't laenor's, he just doesn't want to punish her. does alicent really think that viserys would exile her, kill her for having bastard sons? what kind of father would do that? not one who loves his daughter like viserys does. and alicent doesn't understand being loved unconditionally, she doesn't understand how someone can just be loved for who they are, their flaws and mistakes combined. all her life, she did everything by the book, everything just right and that still didn't make anyone love her. and for her, it's rhaenyra's fault, because she is loved, even though she broke several of those "rules". and alicent, instead of realizing that maybe those rules are kind of stupid actually, just blames rhaenyra instead of admitting to herself that she is jealous. she envies rhaenyra for being free, and being loved even though she doesn't follow the stupid rules that alicent does.

alicent says that viserys is blind about rhaenyra but i actually think he is way more blind about her. she has been plotting treason (telling his children that aegon will be the king), spreading rumours about rhaenyra's sons, threatening rhaenyra and her sons with a knife???? and viserys never did anything substantial to make her stop.

the most ironic part of them all is that she complains about viserys being "blind" to criston cole of all people, who i have NO IDEA why was never punished. he KILLED a man in the royal wedding and nothing happened to him. and when harwin strong beat criston up, he was removed from his post as commander of the city watch, but criston beats a man to death in a royal wedding and nothing happens?? let's not forget that when the king explicitly forbade that luke's eyes be taken out after, criston still tried to do it, he only didn't do it because daemon stopped him.

viserys wasn't blind about rhaenyra. he just loved her the way that she was and wasn't going to do anything stupid to harm her. like a father who loves her daughter unconditionally would, but alicent wouldn't know anything about that, would she? and for her, it's rhaenyra's fault that she is loved unconditionally, not otto's fault for being a shitty father.

the irony is that i believe viserys was in fact blind about alicent. about her ambition for her sons and bitternes towards rhaenyra. he was also blind about criston cole, who murdered a man in her daughter's wedding and wanted to take his grandson's eye out, but didn't get punished for any of it.

#team black #house of the dragon #anti team green #anti alicent hightower #anti criston cole #house of the dragon meta

[etherealstar-writes]

I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 6

pairings: lionesses x reader

summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.

part: six

part one here

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

yourusername: a little photo dump

yourbestiesusername: i'm really proud of that first pic i took of you, i'm coming for your career

↳ yourusername: oi photography's my thing, go find another career

lucybronze: this is cute. you are really beautiful! ❤️

↳ yourusername: OMG NO WAY TYSM!! you're amazing ilysm!!

↳ lucybronze: thank you! @ yourusername

usera omg. the REAL lucy bronze commented on your post!!

↳ yourusername i am not okay rn

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

the imposter

YOU GUYS

GUESS WHAT OMG

the REAL karate kid

what happened?

lotte

is everything alright?

the imposter

NO EVERYTHING IS NOT OKAY

neev

you're kinda scaring me now

the imposter

i know i'm not a woso fan yet

bcuz i'm still incredibly uncultured

and literally don't know anyone yet

elton

yeah we know

the imposter

BUT LUCY BRONZE COMMENTED ON MY POST

I AM SCREAMING

the REAL karate kid

WHAT

neev

WOAH WOAH

hold on

stairway

that old grandma can actually use insta??

rusty metal

OI

that is so rude and offensive!

to that old grandma ....

the REAL karate kid

SHUT UP

rusty metal

the disrespect children have nowadays

unbelievable

well i'm glad she made your day y/n <3

the imposter

thank you!!!

i'm gonna go thrive in my happiness for the

rest of my life for a celebrity noticing me

peace out

lotte

well i'm glad she's happy

willybum

i need to up my game now

the REAL karate kid

me too

stairway

y'all are such simps

neev

says one of the simps herself

stairway

shut up niamh

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

brightness

you know

i just remembered that y/n is still in here

and we don't know like anything about her

at all

door knob

oh yeah

we only know her name

the imposter

i literally only kinda know your names

and that is it

neev

she got a point there

the imposter

honestly i don't get why i'm even still in this chat

not that i'm complaining

stairway

you've been fun to talk to these past few weeks

unlike most of the people on this group chat

who simply decide to ignore their notifications

elton

yeah fr

i didn't feel the need to make a new chat tbh

the imposter

i'm honoured?

elton

you should be

the imposter

uh okay ...

well

i'm 22

i'm a pro photographer and media editor/manager

and uhh i live in london?

idk what else to say tbh

stairway

photography's so cool!

the imposter

thank you!

earpsy

is toone being 10x more annoying

because i'm sick or?

the REAL karate kid

nah she's just that annoying

elton

now that is just rude

willybum

she has an encylcopedia on

how to be annoying

elton

STOP SAYING THAT WORD

wait

guys

neev

oh no

willybum

today on stupid stuff toone is going to say!

elton

oi! i'm not stupid!

the REAL karate kid

you literally thought germany started with j

elton

I WAS UNDER PRESSURE OKAY

anyway as i was about to say

isn't it crazy to think that the money you have

has probably been or could be in like

a stripper's bra or underwear at some point

the REAL karate kid

why does your brain function this way 😭

stairway

wait a sec-

....

she has a point

neev

STOP 😭

that is ALL what i'm gonna think about now

the imposter

never touching cash again that's for sure 😭

willybum

donating all my cash to the trash now

lotte

oh my days

why

just why

meado

WHAT DID I JUST READ 😭😭

part seven here

#lionesses x reader #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt #alessia russo x reader #leah williamson x reader #ella toone x reader #niamh charles x reader #georgia stanway x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lotte wubben moy x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso fanfics #women football

[mascdestr0yer]

can you do a friends to lovers Paige x reader

Private, but not a secret

Warnings: some fluff, and the reader (you duh) being oblivious. It's a little cringe, but you'll live

Paige bueckers x fem!reader

Synopsis: You and Paige have been friends since the seventh grade, now you're both seniors at Hopkins highschool, as graduation nears Paige still hasn't told you what offer she's accepted yet. But you haven't either, the conversation never comes up until now. finding out you both are going to UCONN was exciting, but what you both didn't know, it would actually push you away.

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST ML💕

You're waiting for Paige outside of her classroom, of course she's the last one out. She finally walked out with that stupid grin of hers,"we still going to the mall after school?" She asked, as we walked towards the cafeteria, dapping a few people up when they passed by. Intertwining our fingers, continuing to push through the crowd of students.

"I don't know, I might-"You started, she sucked her teeth, letting go of your hand. "Paige,"

"be honest, do you even like hanging out with me anymore?" She questioned me, still keeping her gaze straight ahead. You looked up at her, quickly fixing your gaze straight ahead.

"why would you even ask that?" You were a little confused on why she became so upset. Trying to touch her hand to comfort her but she snatched it away.

"every time I ask you to hang out, you say yes. Then when the time comes, you start to make up some lame excuses." Paige obviously irritated, runs her fingers through her hair. "You told me that you couldn't make it to my game because of family issues, then you post on your story you at the beach with your Friends." Her voice laced with jealousy, sitting down in the cafeteria. You sat down across from her, fidgeting with your fingers.

"Star's boyfriend cheated on her, we had to comfort her." You mumbled, slightly embarrassed by the way she called you out. Paige scoffed in response, rolling her eyes in the process.

"then why did you lie? There was no point, you had a valid reason not to come, so why lie to me." She interrogated, resting her arms on the table in between you both.

"can we drop it?" You pleaded, clearly wanting nothing to do with the situation as it was petty and unnecessary. Paige on the other hand, wanted to keep questioning you. She knew the "argument"was stupid, but she continued to poke at it with a stick.

"answer the question." She "demanded" (she's letting out her inner alpha), looking directly in your eyes.

"I don't know, thought you would be mad at me because I couldn't come to your game, so I thought maybe if I made the situation sound more intense you wouldn't get mad."

"I'm more angry at the fact that you lied to me," she grumbled, picking at her nails, not daring to look you in the eyes anymore.

"can you forgive me?" You asked, poking her cheek gently. She grips your wrist to stop you from poking her again, her grip getting tighter making it hurt.

"only if you come to the mall with me," she smirked, making her grip tighter and more painful.

I winced in pain, "okay okay, just let go!" She quickly dropped her hands with a slight smirk. "Paige that's not funny, I will beat your ass."i scolded her, flicking her neck.

"oww, that's not fair you have acrylics." She complained, whining ever so slightly.

"so?"

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

It's been about a week since then, you and Paige are sitting on the floor of her room. You do her hair while she yaps away. "UCONN is a really good school and my mom is proud of me ow-" she begins complaining about you pulling too tight and you not doing it right, you literally do her hair every time.

"hush little girl, or else I'll leave you like this." You warned her, with a comb in your hand.

She nods quickly, sitting back down in between your thighs, her back against your chest since she was taller than you. "I mainly chose UCONN because it's good for basketball and I know you're going, which is a bonus."

"I never told you where I'm going, how do you know that..." Your voice trailed off, a little scared or confused, both.

"how do I know that? I saw the UCONN merchandise in your trunk and your dad told me." She explains, drawing shapes on your thighs with her fingertip.

"when was this?" Tilting your head to the side as you braided the girl's hair, wanting to know more about the situation.

"I don't know, a little UCONN's acceptance letters came out. I asked what school you're going to, thinking it was UCLA, but I was clearly wrong."

"UCONN gave me a full ride, so I chose it. I didn't expect you to copy me and follow me to school too."

"you know you love it," she teased, sitting up when you stopped touching her hair signaling you were finished.

"Love is an overstatement," you began standing up, walking out of Paige's room.

"you finish my hair and leave me alone," she sighed, being dramatic once again. She begins following you downstairs, she watched you slip your black Crocs on and walked out the front door. Like the creep she is, she watches you through the window to see what you're doing. She watches you grab something out of the backseat of your car and walk back inside.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

When You and Paige entered college, you guys tried, I mean tried to make time for each other, classes, basketball (Paige), and your studies. If Paige were to describe her friendship with you the first year of college, it would be called a disaster. You both just needed to adjust to college and your new schedules, wrong. Paige was always so busy she really pushed you away, basketball was important to her and you were proud of her.

The less time the two of you spent together, the more you both faded away from each other. Well, until junior year, you were the girl's volleyball team media girl(inspired)for two years, meaning you went to home games and away games, meetings, their practice, and etc.

When one of the sports directors heard about the women's basketball team lacking in the media department she had a meeting with you almost immediately.

"Listen, you've been doing an extraordinary job and I have a great offer for you," Ms. Adams leans in slightly, her arms resting on her desk.

"if it's about the wbb team, I would love to, but I don't know if julie is ready nor capable to run the volleyball team without me,"

"I've already talked to her, she said it's okay,"

"I mean, if you say so,"

"excellent, Geno !" She calls for someone, a mature man walks in, clipboard in hand. "Y/n this is Coach Geno for the wbb, Geno this y/n your new media girl."

We both shake hands, "he's here to introduce you to the team, the people you be with for the next two years."

You followed Coach Geno to the basketball gym, where the girls were "practicing", "alright, huddle up !" They quickly walked over to both of you, as you try to adjust your camera, you could feel someone staring into your soul, you looked up and saw her.

"This is y/n, she will be the head of this teams media department."

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

After a few practices, the team is starting to really grow on you. I was sitting down on the bleachers in the gym, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"yes," you answered monotoned, not bothering to look up from your laptop.

"can we talk?" A familiar voice asks, I looked up seeing a certain blonde.

"yeah, we can talk later, I need to finish-"

"no, I want to talk now, come on."she cut you off, you rolled your eyes as you sat your laptop down and followed her outside. The taller girl hugs you immediately, burying her face in your neck, you hesitated and eventually hugged her back.

"I'm sorry, for pushing you away," she pulled away wiping her tears, now you were even more confused, why was she crying.

"what- it's not your fault, you were busy with basketball and classes,"

"no, you don't understand, I wasn't busy, I was scared,"

"scared ? Scared of what ?"

"this," she grabs your face, kissing you. Your heart was racing, you could feel your face burning up, you kissed her back.

When the two of you pulled away she looked directly into your eyes, "you don't know how long I've been waiting to do that,"she smirked, holding your waist pulling you closer.

"how long?"

"since the seventh grade, I mean wasn't it obvious? It was really obvious during high school, how did you not notice?"

"I don't know, I thought we were just good friends,"

"you're an idiot," she chuckled, caressing the side of your face.

"I'm the idiot? You went two years without talking to me because of some stupid crush,"

Her face drops, "that's low." You laughed at her expression.

"you're just mad you have no game,"

"shut up." She rolled her eyes, biting back a smile.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

BONUS:

Paige and KK were live on Instagram in your dorm room, KK's phone was set up on your vanity, there was about 13k people watching. KK was showing them her singing skills. Paige messing with your make up and smelling your expensive perfumes (no bath and body here😛).

"this one smells good, smell it." She puts the pink high heel shaped perfume in KK's face.

"ouuuu, it does." She grabs the perfume out of Paige's hands, smelling it.

"two hundred dollars?" Paige asked in shock, as she read the price of the perfume off her phone.

» User.1: who's dorm are they in ?

» User.2: it's so cutesy in there

» User.3: it's my room, duh

» User.4: why is Paige in another girl room🙄

» User.5: KK keeps re-smelling the perfume😭

» User.6 who's perfume is that

"It's Paige's girlfriend," KK answered chat. Paige side eyed her,she snatched the perfume out of KK's hands. "No, not her girlfriend romantically, our friend that so happens to be a girl."

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #fem!reader #fluff #lesbian #drabble #friends to lovers #anon ask #angst #angst with a happy ending

[honeytonedhottie]

a post on persistence⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💝

im super happy and excited to announce that this post is a collab with the AMAZINGG @pinkpigtailsprincess. we wanted to collab on this post and talk about PERSISTENCE in manifesting and how crucial it is when ur manifesting things.

HOW TO PERSIST ; persisting simply means reminding urself that u already have whatever it is that u want. when u persist, you decide what it is that u want and you STICK to it.

the oxford definition of persistence simply means to continue in an opinion or course of action in spite of difficulty or opposition.

your 3d literally has no choice but to catch up and reflect the new thoughts that ur thinking in ur 4d so just KEEP GOING. if ur gonna whine or complain every step of the way and think thoughts like "persisting is hard" or "theres lots of resistance/difficulty with manifesting" then thats what ur going to experience.

manifesting is easy, effortless, and instant. when u catch urself thinking thoughts that perpetuate the old story, remind urself that no matter what, whatever u persist in will harden into reality simply because it HAS to. stop getting in your own way!!

LIMITLESS > IMAGINATION ;

limitless definition; possesing power of an immeasurable rate a perfect way to describe your power your literally the god of your reality and you know you might think thats silly or “delusional” its so true though like ever since birth people are conditioned to believe that being negative is the more “logical” and “realistic” way to think than positive which is such a stupid revelation because all throughout life you meant to believe that you have to bring yourself down to earth about achieving something and that you’ll never have “” but that makes no sense seeing all of the extraordinary achievements that humans have done like

build rockets and do rocket science

walk on the moon

build the great wall of china

and so many others including the human body its self your cells in your body healing and protecting wounds and your organs being able to stay in the designated spot no matter what and you think “logic” actually matters?

everything in the human mind is projected i mean everything you use on a daily basis started off in the mind it all stems from imagination

DECISIONS ⭐️ ;

deciding is the final decision and the final outcome no matter what no questions asked like if you went too a sushi restaurant and ordered and decided that you want a shrimp tempura roll you will have the shrimp tempura roll no matter what concepts “if the concept of something can exist then that can be achieved no matter what”

literally something i think about alot and a direct quote from yours truly like most people do think that you can have something because its quote “unrealistic” or it “doesn’t exist” but if that were really the case than why is the concept of it allowed to prosper like if those things really didn’t exist then the concept of billionaires or superpowers and superheroes wouldn’t exist or even time travel everything single one of those things are a product of imagination!!!

YOUR THE ONLY POWER ;

alot of the times on loablr you see people say “you’re the only power” and “you don’t even need that method just imagination and that honestly just so real because if you really think about all of these methods ie: 48 hour challenge, 10k affirmations method etc.

and the void state those things also stemmed from that person’s imagination when you use those methods or use subliminals all your doing is giving it a smidge of your power the method is only powerful because your giving it that power in conclusion you and your imagination are the only things that matter !!

#COLLAB🍰✨ #law of assumption #self concept #becoming that girl #it girl #self love #self care #that girl #it girl energy #honeytonedhottie⭐️ #manifesting #manifestation #manifesting tips #lawofassumption #neville goddard #advice #manifest #affirm and persist #persistence

[gay-otlc]

When people say they struggle with keeping track of all the tone tags (the ones like /j or /gen), everyone who disregards that by responding "it's just memorizing some abbreviations/acronyms, it's not that hard, stop complaining" is ableist and a fucking hypocrite. If you're going to advocate for accessibility, advocate for accessibility for all of us.

You can't claim to be an ally to neurodivergent and disabled people and then shit on us for our symptoms. If you actually care about helping us, why aren't you listening when we say we struggle with something? It's never okay to tell disabled people they should be able to do something they can't, that it's not that hard, but it's especially not okay if you do so while pretending to support disabled people.

Also, in addition to the "it's not that hard" statement being ableist, it's utter bullshit. There are so many tone tags to keep track of and memorize. I did a quick google search and one of my top results had ninety one tone tags. That's a lot. That's probably a lot even for a neurotypical person, and I'm not a neurotypical person. I struggle to remember a lot of basic, necessary tasks, so I really can't memorize ninety one tone tags.

Especially when some of them are incredibly ambiguous- only one letter? Acronyms or abbreviations at least give you some clues, one letter tone tags are so incredibly confusing. Like, what does /t mean? There are a lot of words that start with T! (This is a rhetorical question. I know /t means "teasing," but I only know the answer because figuring that out was a memorably frustrating experience.)

And /t is just one example of a tone tag I learned because I kept seeing it in conversation and not understanding and being really confused and frustrated. I can't tell you the number of times I've been messaging someone on discord, and they say something with a tone tag I don't recognize, and I just open a new tab to google the meaning, which is where I find lists like the one above. I usually rely on google instead of asking the person what they meant, because I feel stupid and embarrassed for not knowing this code that everyone else seemingly gets.

Which is exactly how it feels when I don't understand someone's tone in real life! Confused and frustrated and ashamed. And tone tags were supposed to help neurodivergent and disabled people not feel that way, so I don't know how we reached a point where they cause those feelings in many of us.

I can't deny that tone tags are a useful accessibility tool for some. If you find them helpful, it's genuinely good that you have that resource. But they're not accessible for all of us. It's incorrect to act like tone tags are a perfect way to communicate, and it's ableist to disregard our struggles with them and tell us to just try harder.

Either listen to those of us who say they have trouble understanding tone tags, or stop pretending you actually give a shit about accessibility.

#this was meant to be just those first two paragraphs about ableism + hypocrisy but then i kept on rambling. i am incapable of shutting up #anyway. had some thoughts about the disk horse and then i had more thoughts and more thoughts and more thoughts #tone tags #tone indicators

[seulszn]

Listen I love TLOU and the fandom very much but a lot of people (not calling anybody out) need a reality check and need to grow up. I wanna say my two cents on things that bother me in this fandom.

1. Boycotting for Palestine

I have seen multiple times on multiple occasions where people would sit on their phone and complain about why writers are “flooding the tags with this boycotting bullshit” and honestly all I have to say is your super childish you can’t take a hour or a week out of your day to raise awareness on a important topic that is affecting millions of people? Your so horny so down bad for pixelated characters that you don’t care about the innocent children, women and men that are dying in Palestine? The boycotting isn’t gonna stop just because you want your needs filled, the boycotting isn’t going to stop because you think it needs to, it’s not gonna stop until Palestine is free. And if you wanna read things that bad then read nobody is stoping you but a take into ignition that if a writer is spreading awareness then don’t be ignorant and say stupid shit

2. Less Sex and more angst or other genres.

Listen I love Abby and Ellie just like everyone else and I read a lot of smut about them but does that all y’all see when y’all look at them? As sex objects? Like I’m not saying that you should stop writing smut for those characters but write other things to that don’t involve smut, like angst I see a lot of people under that tag say how they wish writers would as write other things that isn’t just smut and majority of the time when they say that they get hated for it. It lowkey gets boring reading fanfics where the whole plot is smut, smut, smut. And again I’m not saying to stop writing smut but please for the love of whatever you believe in write other genres.

3. Black inclusivity

As a black writer and a black person TLOU tag isn’t inclusive enough. I know you must be thinking “Why are we speaking about this again?” Because I’m honestly so tired of how uninclusive the fandom is like I said before Ellie dates WOC if you don’t know what WOC is it’s Women Of Color all of Ellie’s girlfriends where WOC now I’m not saying you can’t write for Ellie as a white person and I’m not saying that never did all I am saying is once again all of Ellie’s girlfriend where POC

Riley was a Black African American who Dated Ellie

Cat the girl who wasn’t mentioned alot but is in the game is Asian American who also dated Ellie

Dina is a Jewish (Mexican, Middle Eastern ) American who dated Ellie

Also yes we know when the reader is white coded so don’t try a put that you don’t mention when race mentioned cause you do and we can tell when you do “She’s Petite and cute with her long blonde hair” or whatever you bitches be saying we know when you guys aren’t inclusive the whole point of fanfiction writing is to be inclusive is to make sure that readers can see themself in your xreader so if your putting all these “white things and then labeling your story as “the readers race is not mentioned” or that OC stuff that y’all do then just label the story as a white reader or a OC reader

4. Futa, trans and masc

Now here I’m gonna discuss two or three things starting off with Futa and Trans. Now I don’t know when “Futa” or “Trans” Ellie and Abby came from but a lot of you readers need to understand and learn the difference between the two because they are both very different things.

Futanari: is the Japanese word for hermaphroditism, which is also used in a broader sense for androgyny. Beyond Japan, the term has come to be used to describe a commonly pornographic genre of eroge, manga, and anime, which includes characters that show primary sexual characteristics from both females and males. In today's language, it refers almost exclusively to characters who have an overall feminine body, but have both female and male primary genitalia (although a scrotum is not always present, while breasts, a penis, and a vulva are). The term is also often abbreviated as futa(s), which is also used as a generalized term for the works themselves.

Transgender (often shortened to trans) is someone whose gender identity differs from that typically associated with the sex they were assigned at birth. Some transgender people who desire medical assistance to transition from one sex to another identify as transsexual. Transgender is also an umbrella term; in addition to including people whose gender identity is the opposite of their assigned sex (trans men and trans women), it may also include people who are non-binary or genderqueer. Other definitions of transgender also include people who belong to a third gender, or else conceptualize transgender people as a third gender. The term may also include cross-dressers or drag kings and drag queens in some contexts. The term transgender does not have a universally accepted definition, including among researchers.

Mind you I am not transgender I am nonbinary but I see a lot of transgender people speak up about how offensive it is to write a character as Transgender but it’s not really transgender but a Futanari remember a Futa is a character who is assigned a gender at birth but just has extra sexual parts like a penis.

Now another thing that bothers me is how y’all Masculinize Masc Lesbians as if they still aren’t women themselves like every time I read a fanfic with Ellie or Abby or even Vi and Sevika from Arcane you guys like to ignore they fact that they are also women themselves like it’s not gonna kill you to give those characters feminine compliments there shouldn’t be a reason why your calling these women “handsome” or other Masculine compliments and also a lot of Masculine women where makeup it’s not just a feminine woman thing. Masc Lesbians are women they aren’t men so stop treating them as if they are men and ignoring the fact that they are women

5. the Innocent childish reader gotta stop.

They title says enough I don’t think I need to say too much but a lot of y’all get innocent and corruption mixed up but a corruption kink is When you find the idea of "corrupting" someone, mostly in a sexual way, like taking virginities or introducing people to stuff like bdsm etc. It's the idea of having someone "pure" do "bad" things under your influence. And innocent is not corrupted or tainted with evil or unpleasant emotion; sinless; pure. not guilty of a particular crime; blameless. (From the dictionary)

Y’all need to understand yes not everyone knows what sex is but everyone knows what a vagina is what a penis is, what a orgasm is and what sex is but they may not knows what happens when you have sex so making the reader what y’all call innocent isn’t innocent it’s honestly to me perverted cause the only one who would say something like “my cunny feels weird 🥺” or that “what is sex 🥺” is a child. Children don’t know what sex is children don’t know what pleasure or orgasms is and when y’all say “the reader is a Bimbo” is also funny cause Bimbos know what sex is as well yes they may be stupid but they aren’t slow so before you make a innocent reader please think “am I making my reader act like a child or am I gonna make her really innocent like how regular grown ass adults act?” so don't get not knowing and "innocent" mixed up

6. The stories where they have sex inside a church also gotta stop

Now I’m not a Christian but these stories are honestly really bad and are Blasphemy a lot of people have come out and said that they don’t like the fact that people are writing stories about church in a sexual way like their shouldn’t be any reason why your characters are fucking inside a church, that’s like stomping on someone’s dead grave. You guys do shit like this and then wonder why Christian’s don’t like us. Religion isn’t something to be sexualized it’s not something to be playing with either this idc how much you hate Christianity you can be a Atheist, or Catholic or Jewish but please for the love of whatever you believe in don’t sexualize people’s religion.

That’s all I can think of at the moment if I think of more I’ll of course make a part two to this but don’t take anything I said here to heart it’s just my blunt honest opinion on things in this fandom and if I get hate for this 🤷🏾‍♀️

#bellaxellie #☆— mj speaks #ellie williams #the last of us #tlou2 #abby anderson #ellie tlou #abby anderson x reader #free palestine #tlou #some of y’all need to see this #ellie x black!reader #abby x black reader #tlou part 2 #masc lesbian #abby the last of us #abby anderson x y/n #abby x reader #sevika x reader #arcane vi x reader #ellie x blk!reader #black tumblr #black xreader #ellie william x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fluff