#// anyway something rough i wanted to get out of my system bc i want more art of Shadowsight as a big soggy guy sdlkgjlks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hazelnut-u-out · 1 year

Text

Ring of Fire - 4

oh my GOD, sorry for the delay. life has just been chewing me up and spitting me out lately and i had a vision for this chapter that i had to execute.

anyway, idk if it's my best work. i've been in a weird brain fog lately, so i might rewrite this one at some point bc it's my blog and i can do what i want >:(

anywayyyyy...

drugs, alcohol, brief mentions of suicide, etc.

-4081 words

Synopsis:

The boys get ready to move on, but Birdperson has an idea...

You got me feeling like James Dean High on your honey suckle day dream Climb on the back of my iron steed The night is an open road Dumpster fire sky line Leave all of that pain behind Your arms wrapped around mine How fast do you want to go? Sad Cowboys and Rock and Roll

-Sad Cowboys and Rock and Roll by Van Andrew

-----

The desert morning hung closely to Birdperson’s burly form as he lay capsized in the sand at Rick’s feet.

Rick grumbled something incomprehensible even to himself as he teetered on the heels of his toughened boots, his spurs jingling slightly as he pressed them further down into the earth. He might have felt himself sway with something other than the warming undertow of the liquor he pulled greedily from his flask at the sight, but he shook away the thought– his pale cobalt hair falling leisurely to frame his face and play with his lashes.

His stubble was rough in a way that rivaled his seasoned fingers as they came up to scratch along his jaw.

There was a misunderstanding, Rick thought, about why people drink. Sure, he occasionally chased that dull ache for the promise of relief, but Rick was under the assumption that the most common misconception about why people succumbed to that inherent need to numb themselves was that it was done in the search of something better.

Maybe some people drank to feel better, but Rick drank to feel worse. It numbed what he felt— his lips, his fingers, his nose— but only served to amplify his innermost aching. He found that he could read his thoughts far more clearly when he was too drunk to focus on everything else that life saddled his senses with— and horrible thoughts, they were.

He thought about three nights before– what he’d done; what a selfish fucking monstrosity he could never seem to stop himself from blossoming into– and tenderly brought that same unsteady hand to press against a potent knot of yellowing violet along his ribcage. He relished in the wince it drew from him.

The bad part? He couldn’t even say he felt worse about killing that Gromflomite than he did anything else he’d done.

Being fucked up may not have been a justification for the bitter poison that was who he was, but he hoped it could one day serve as a precursor to some semblance of redemption.

Rick just prayed that he’d eventually be able to see a reason for pointing that gun at others instead of pulling the trigger on himself.

Blood and gore seemed to flow in every divet his boots carved along the ground– no matter the planet, or solar system, or universe– and Rick was so tired of feeling like someone he couldn’t trust himself with. He was broken in a way that demanded company– shattered in a way that wrecked others.

He hoped those rivers of scarlet painted a picture of peace.

At some point.

It was probably something to do with his incessant compulsion to destroy that had taught him to appreciate the serenity that found its way to him in that moment. It was probably something akin to that sting along his tired bones that let his eyes hemorrhage such fondness over the man below him now.

Birdperson was curled up on his side, facing away from Rick– wings wrapped tightly around himself and his nose poking out from the mess of plume ever so slightly. He faced both of the men’s hats where they lay in the dirt, his snores light as they danced out to brush along the felt.

Rick cracked a smile– partly at the thought of how soft the most jagged man he knew was in that moment; partly at the fact that he could still appreciate such softness.

It’s a funny thing, that burning deep inside of you that begs you to right your wrongs– that implores you to bend down, reach out, and run one scarred hand along the downy, blood-caked exterior of your friend’s healing wing.

Rick knew there was no reason for staying here anymore. There was nothing they could do here.

He had a feeling that Birdperson knew that, too— and that was part of the reason he’d spent the last three days drunk and high; complicit in Rick’s downward spiral.

Or maybe he was spiraling, too.

Maybe they spiraled together.

It was time to go, and Rick cursed himself for ruining a damn good thing.

He knew that if he’d had a chance like that, he’d… Well, he would’ve killed the man who got between himself and justice.

So, it was with gentle chagrin that he closed one hand around his resting companion’s taught shoulder and shook.

The sand that stirred up in the wake of Birdperson’s sluggish movement cascaded down in quaint little formations, skimming along the pathways of morning sunlight that slipped through the cracks of Rick’s rising hand.

Rick took another swig from his flask, the drink no longer carrying the same painful spark as it coated his leaden, swollen tongue and sunk down into the heat of his tumultuous belly.

Birdperson muttered something quiet and demure as his dusty lids made way for life, melting a bit of Rick that had been frozen beneath the icy blanket of intoxication that swaddled him in familiar comfort.

A breath passed, and Rick observed as his friend slowly gained that speckle of sentience that flitted away during deep sleep after a good cry.

Rick listened to the sounds Birdperson made as he rustled along the floor, stretching on wobbly legs and fixing the buttons of his blue shirt.

Rick didn’t bother to put on his leather vest, but simply bent over and let his hand find purchase along his cattleman.

“Sanchez?” Rick heard his friend croak out behind him, turning to find him standing in the orange cast of the sun, his own belongings thrown over one forearm.

“Hmmm?” Rick replied, pressing one filthy palm to the center of his forehead.

“Are we leaving?”

Something about that question– perhaps the way the other man’s voice wavered with that sort of disappointment one swallows when they’re forced to forfeit their efforts in exchange for spit and dirt– pulled Rick’s heart down to the soles of his feet, where it sat heavily and begged to anchor him to the planet.

Rick wriggled against those invisible ties, wound tighter by his friend’s sorrowful eyes, and forced himself to give a brief nod– a minute expression that anyone could have missed if they’d blinked.

His partner made a strange sort of gurgling sound before clearing his throat, and though hurt flashed along his features, Rick couldn’t help but think that there was a kindness there that he didn’t deserve.

A willingness to forgive, or maybe something already rooted in the tender touch of understanding, that went against everything Rick thought he could stomach.

He took another drink.

“Are you… drunk?” Birdperson inquired meekly, something in his tone teetering along a line of hope that Rick knew his friend was too smart to place much purchase on.

Without answering, Rick shoved his flask into the burlap tote laying against one of the logs, and picked up his withered guitar.

It had once been painted blue, too, but was now a pallid sort of brown, and the grain of the wood prickled the pads of his fingers as the cool strings kissed his palm.

“Just…” Rick began with a sigh, trailing off for a moment with another swoon. He couldn’t wait to shower. “Just get the ship, man…”

“Your nose looks… better.” An anchor sunk the words— heavy and thick. Rick could tell from the weight of it that Birdperson was sober now, but he’d known that already.

He’d learned the other man always managed to pull himself together more quickly, like he was either less broken or more accustomed to the art of lying to himself.

BP extended a hand slowly, almost as if he were going to caress the injury, but Rick pulled back from the touch.

He didn’t deserve pity.

Or comfort.

Or a friend.

The look that flashed across Birdperson’s features was one Rick knew the emotion behind well, and it curdled something in his gut to know that anyone would dare to feel guilty for beating the shit out of someone as deserving of it as himself.

“Very well.”

Rick took the few moments spent by his partner retrieving the pocket ship from his own saddle bag to press his palms into his eyes.

For three days, it had felt like the world was ending. The sky had burned a deep coral, even in the evening— as if the world was on fire everywhere except for their little shelter. The air around them twisted and bent to the ebb of distant music, and they flowed into one another without touching…

Much.

Without touching much.

Rick could still feel Birdperson’s muscular hands lighting sparks along his arms as he held him steady. He could still sense the silky feathers of his friend’s head grazing his stomach as he curled into a heap on his lap. The heat of another being seeped past his sinewed skin and warmed his tired bones.

“Rick?”

BP’s delicate voice startled him from his thoughts, and Rick jumped a bit before turning towards the sound.

“Yeah?” It came out quieter than he would have liked, but he tried to shake off that sickening feeling of falling into himself.

“I want to take you somewhere,” Birdperson said flatly in a way that was difficult for Rick to read. “Tonight. Before we go.”

Rick would have followed him anywhere— so, of course, he agreed to follow him to dusk.

…..

The sun was barely flush with the horizon from Rick’s perch on the edge of the stream.

He felt clean.

For the first time in forever, he genuinely felt clean.

He’d convinced BP to let him make a quick trip into town to snag some soap— it was a deep aquamarine bar that carried a musky floral scent— while his counterpart found a suitable alcove to open the pocket ship for a moment and retrieve some clean clothes.

Rick thought he looked rather silly in Birdperson’s garments— they were too baggy on his twig-like frame, and they weren’t… nice clothes, by any means.

Rick was nervous about whatever event Birdperson had planned. If there were to be people, he would be severely underdressed during a Festival event.

And eaten alive for being a gendered organism, but that was a rant for a different time.

Rick still couldn’t figure out how his friend had managed to grab two sets of his own clothes, but he didn’t want to be rude by insisting he risk detection again just for a pair of his own.

Now, Rick’s bare toes kissed the cool babbling water as he slouched forward— finally sobering up. His hair was still slightly wet and clinging to his cheekbones, and he was freshly shaven and hidden in the tent of a white tee. Rick was thankful he’d had his own belt handy, as it held up BP’s large jeans, even though he’d had to roll them up about five times at his ankles.

It was… comfortable.

The clothes smelled like his friend— like freshly baked bread and cinnamon sugar with a sharp undertone of sweat— and the slits along the back let the warm breeze brush along his bruised skin.

Rick closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the desert air. It was surprisingly crisp and lightening in its trip through his body– something he was still getting used to feeling in any sense.

Placing his hands behind him flat along the ground, he leaned back onto them at an angle as if to ask the sun to light him up on stage.

Gather ‘round, all! Rick Sanchez has a moment of peace.

A born performer.

The gentle smack of his hat onto his face roused him from his thoughts– the roars of the crowd withering back into the recesses of his mind.

“Do I look alright?” His partner implored, and Rick let out a small giggle as he pushed the brim of his hat up to set properly on his head, turning his cheek to face the other man at his right.

It’s a strange thing, that moment you realize you’re coming down from a lengthy buzz and you really see someone again for the first time.

That sensation all men experience when they look at their friend, freshly shaven and glowing; when their heart catches in their throat and threatens to pull them under on its plummet back down.

Rick thought he’d never be able to gather the air to speak.

Birdperson stood in the gentle ochre of the setting sun, the edges of his plume burning a deep auburn– the bandage around his wing the only indication of his tumble from heaven. For a moment, Rick questioned if the wings along his lower back truly were a divine depiction, as he’d initially thought.

Just like an angel to be so humble.

His partner wore a long-sleeved blue thermal, nearly identical in shade to Rick’s hair while wet, tucked into a pair of faded denim jeans. His belt buckle glistened in the beam of light and he wore his usual tan armitas over it all. His boots were already on, spurs barely touching the dirt, and his hands were tucked deep into his front pockets– his shoulders pushed forward as if he were nervous.

“Well?” he prompted once again, shaking Rick from his study.

He was a man of science, afterall. It was only natural for him to record variables.

“Mhmm,” Rick hummed more timidly than he’d expected, lowering his gaze to where his own fingers played in the sand at his side. Why did his cheeks burn? He wasn’t blushing, was he? “Ya look good.”

“You’re just saying that,” Birdperson replied, a jouncy tone to his voice as he extended one hand down in front of Rick’s face– an offer.

Rick hesitated, only for a moment, before bringing his hand up to lay in his companion's palm. BP’s warm fingers closed around his own, sending a bolt of electricity up Rick’s arm as he was pulled up to his feet.

“How many times do we have to go over this?” Rick chuckled, pulling his hand back and shoving it into his back pocket. “Nunca te mentiría, baby.” He winked, trying to gather some semblance of the usual charm he carried when flirting playfully with his partner.

Like all men do.

It was Rick’s turn to notice the blush that rose to Birdperson’s cheeks as he tucked his chin back in a bashful grin, twisting the toe of his boot into the earth.

“Put your boots on, Sanchez. I’ve got somewhere to take you.”

......

The ride into the sunset was something Rick thought only existed in those old western romance films. The wind bristled past both of the men, and Rick let out a howl– a breathing, living thing on its own– into that great expanse of the unknown.

They rode side-by-side on their equore, and Rick couldn’t resist throwing his arms out at his sides as he called out to the heavens above.

Or beyond. Wherever they were. He wasn’t sure– but something about this moment had him believing they existed.

The drag of the air pulled on the tips of his fingers and he smiled, closing his eyes and trusting that the growing night would eat him alive.

It was nights like these that had him hoping he'd die young.

He felt the warmth of a calloused hand brushing against the outstretched fingers at his left, and he knew who it was. Birdperson let out a hearty laugh– probably the first time either of them had laughed so sincerely since the events three days prior– and Rick couldn’t calm that little spirit within him that beckoned him to do the same.

Red dust rose in dramatic clouds all around them as a purple cast fell over the cooling landscape– the huffing and puffing of the two animals carrying them and the smack of their clawed talons upon the ground the epic backdrop to the ballad they wrote together in that moment.

“Rick! Stand with me!” Birdperson yelled, and Rick looked over at his friend. Birdperson was wide-eyed with a cheshire grin. Rick smiled back, an unhinged frenzied thing, but a flash of hesitance engulfed him. Something about his expression must have betrayed his fear, or maybe it was the way his grip tightened around BP’s fingers, because his companion called out again. “Trust me!”

Rick nodded.

Rick followed BP’s lead, his friend’s stare warm and assuring. His feet weighed down the stirrups, and then…

They were standing. Rick shrieked in impish delight– the world whirring by him like a deafening roar– and Birdperson stared back at him, something soft and tender in his gaze.

Something that qualmed Rick’s laughter and made such a raucous moment feel like the most serene thing he’d ever experienced.

“We’re almost there!” Birdperson declared, looking forward and jutting his chin towards the horizon pointedly.

Rick followed his gaze, drunk on something more bubbly than whisky and more heady than scotch, and his heart nearly careened outward.

A haze of neon mulberry light swathed a watery skyline. Distant music– a slow, chilling thrum– now meandered its way to Rick’s ears. The silhouette of hundreds of small stilt buildings hovered over the water– a city. If he squinted, Rick could have sworn he saw swarms of bodies milling about.

“Pile dwellings?” Rick called out in inquiry.

“The City of the Lost!” Birdperson said in answer. “They’re everyone the Blessed rejects! It’s Festival of the Lost! We’re free here!”

Rick’s heart fluttered.

….

It had been an endless night, and Rick lost Birdperson somewhere amongst the writhing crowd of tentacles and scales.

He’d lost his hat, too.

Most of the aliens around him were Warekin– short in stature and boney scaled things. He shivered in the range of their glittering, three-eyed gazes as he gyrated along with them to the shrill bass of the music. Some of the other species he didn’t recognize, but it hardly mattered.

He was sweaty and high– on what, he didn’t know– and the neon buzz engulfed everyone who dared to wander out onto the dance floor of the hovering square.

It was freeing, being surrounded by so many creatures who showered love and devotion over whatever other moving things teetered within their path. Rick lost count of how many mouths he’d discovered; how many bodies he’d felt; how many drugs he’d taken– but he knew he would never stop.

Until he did.

There, about twenty paces ahead, somewhere within the fog of smoke and inebriating essence of sex, was his bird.

God, had he always been this beautiful? Had he always been such a slave to the moonlight– to the undercurrent of music?

Where had his shirt gone?

Did his muscles always glisten so enticingly?

All Rick knew was where he had to be– who he wanted to feel next to him– and so he pushed through the mess of wriggling bodies until he could close one hand around Birdperson’s own.

“Dance with me?” Rick sighed into the other man’s ear– his breath hot and tense along BP's neck.

Rick could smell him, and he drank it in. They were but one more prop in a sea of bodies, and Rick reveled in it.

“Rick!” Birdperson slurred, pulling Rick into his chest a little too-hard by the joining of their hands. “Where’ve you been? You look good in my clothes!”

BP let out a trifling little hiccup sound, giggling and bringing both of his hands up to rest on Rick’s shoulders.

The music slowed– or maybe it didn’t. Maybe it was just something about the look the two men shared that slowed everything.

Rick didn’t care.

He settled both of his arms around Birdperson’s waist and pulled them flush together, splaying his hands out along his companion's center back.

Never had bare skin felt more alive to Rick than in that moment.

Rick looked up at Birdperson, at how the amethyst brilliance grazed his features so lovingly, and he thought he could explode. His heart thundered– not just in his ears, but in every part of him– and his skin was vibrating, like a magnet begging to be pulled even closer.

Maybe he’d make a home in his friend’s ribs.

“Here,” Birdperson panted, bringing one hand up and tucking Rick’s head beneath his own chin. Rick closed his eyes as BP’s other arm engulfed his shoulders.

He was so strong. So much stronger.

Rick let himself be lulled along with Birdperson’s swaying, slow and ingratiating, drinking in his scent.

Birdperson didn’t move his hand from the back of Rick’s head, instead opting to run his fingers through his hair mindlessly.

It felt neverending and like no time had passed at all. Rick thought he could stay here forever– nothing but an extension of a loner who wasn’t so lonely anymore.

Where some people drank to feel better, Rick drank to feel worse.

Now, though... Birdperson was the sweetest drink he'd ever tasted, and he thought that maybe it could be okay to feel better.

Just once.

“Do… D’ya think I’m like… cursed or so–some shit?” Rick drawled out, nearly drooling along the exposed flesh of Birdperson’s collarbone.

“Cursed?” Birdperson asked, resting his cheek atop Rick’s mop of tangled hair.

“Yeah,” Rick answered, dragging his hands up BP’s back slowly to find a home just beneath the juncture of his wings and his shoulders. He could hear the other man’s breath hitch, his heart pulsing back to life beneath his ribs. “‘Cause everyone I love k-keeps fuckin’ dying.”

Rick said it with a laugh– something bubbly in him twisting his mind enough to appreciate the absurdity of it all.

“No,” Birdperson replied after a moment. “I think maybe you’re just… easy to fall into.” Rick snickered a bit, nuzzling further into the crook of BP’s shoulder. His lips grazed over the flesh as he spoke again.

“So, I’m like a hole?”

“You’re more like… like your bottles, I guess,” Birdperson swung. “Here, put your feet on mine.”

Rick did as he was told, collapsing fully onto the muscular form before him and allowing his partner to move for the two of them now.

He felt like he could drift off here, soaking in the warmth that seeped into him where they touched.

“What the fuck’s that s’posed to mean?” Rick breathed out, barely audible over the music.

“You don’t let people stop before they reach the bottom.”

“Hmmm…” Rick was starting to feel a little nauseous, the darkness behind his lids twisting into a weird sensation. “It– It’s not about making it to the bottom… It’s about drowning on the way down, I think.”

Birdperson laughed this time, the deep rumble running through Rick’s frame.

He felt like jelly. Like a cup of gelatin.

“I like to swim,” Birdperson whispered along Rick’s hair.

Rick shivered.

“I hope I die soon.” Rick said it sweetly– thick and dripping with honey– as he smiled into Birdperson’s shoulder.

“Why?”

BP pulled Rick back a bit by his shoulders, and Rick whined, cracking open his eyes to meet his friend’s gaze. He looked serious.

“Why��d ya do that?” Rick fretted sluggishly against the restraint.

“Answer me.”

“I’d just hate to wonder what would’ve happened if…if–” Rick looked at his friend’s lips before trailing off, trying to clamber his way back into the warmth of BP’s chest with little success.

“If what?” Birdperson asked, a bit of his hardened expression faltering– probably at realizing just how out of it Rick really was.

“If… If I had…” Rick trailed off again, flitting a quick glance back up at Birdperson’s gaze before making a decision.

Rick threw himself forward– closing his eyes and pushing himself upward on his toes.

Suddenly, Birdperson’s lips were on his own.

His lips were more plush than Rick had expected. He could feel his own chapped equivalents scratching their velvety surface.

It was chaste and innocent.

Shy.

Tender.

Rick waited for the moment Birdperson pulled away– pushed him off; called him ‘disgusting’ and told him he’d fucked everything up, but–

But then…

Those rough hands left his shoulders and found their way to his cheeks. BP cupped his face gently for hands so worn, and tilted forward into the touch, pulling at his jaw.

It hurt Rick’s purpled nose a bit, but he didn’t care.

He could smell the alcohol and cinnamon on his counterpart’s breath– could taste the whiskey on his lips– and Rick relaxed as he bled into him.

The music didn’t stop, and neither did they.

------

#rick and morty #birdrick #rick sanchez #birdperson #my fic #ring of fire

44 notes · View notes

al-ien-pan-ic · 2 years

Text

More steddie fics

Here are some more fics I read on AO3 that got 8 to 9,9 out of 10 stars (my ranking system is shit bc I’m a mess. I have fics with like 7,8 stars what is this shit?). Every fic is finished, if it’s part of a series it’s noted. Order is random and I read most of them pre Vol2.

you're the one (that i want) by wayferette

Teen And Up Audiences / 6 chapter / 25k words

Autors Summary: Steve is a hopeless romantic with a notched belt of failed one-night stands and the idea that all of the girls in Hawkins are a waste of time. He's nearly ready to give up on love...until a doe-eyed boy Steve has never seen before walks into Family Video.

Or: Steve works at Family Video and Eddie shows up sometimes...but they keep running into each other

Eddie Munson's Vampire Mixtape by Springandastorm

Teen And Up Audiences / Oneshot (but apparently part of a series) / 21k words

Autors Summary: "What the hell, dude?" A voice says, rough and tired. "You couldn't have fallen a foot to the left? You crushed my records!"

"WHAT THE FUCK."

"You didn't land on my Zeppelin, did you? Can you check?"

"WHAT IS HAPPENING?"

"Stop yelling, dude, I'm hungover!"

"You're dead!" Steve blinks, rubs at his eyes, blinks again. That's it, he's officially lost it. He's seeing things. Maybe Vecna's back, or something, making him hallucinate, because why else would he be seeing a very much alive Eddie Munson right now? A very much alive Eddie Munson who's staring at him from where he's hunched under his desk, his hair everywhere and his eyes strangely liquid, yelling at him for breaking his records, of all things.

"Evidently not." Eddie says, gesturing a lazy hand over himself and trying a sharp-toothed smile but mostly just looking exhausted and scared.

with the moonlight beating hard on your skin (i know that he loves me) by girlsinthestars

Teen And Up Audiences / oneshot (but apparently part of a series) / 2473 words

Autors Summary: “No I just…” Eddie takes a deep breath, like he’s bracing himself, “Normally guys… Like you don’t like me being near them while they’re shirtless, let alone touching them.”

Something in Steve’s chest clenches with guilt, knowing he was that kind of guy, as much as he isn’t anymore.

“We aren’t as different as you think.” Steve says, hoping his voice conveys his meaning. It must, because Eddie’s expression brightens with a flicker of hope.

“Oh.”

Steve smiles at him and bumps his shoulder against Eddie’s. “Help me redress my battle wounds?”

Or Eddie doesn't think he's brave. This is a fact that bothers Steve.

Oh, my good looking boy by funiji

Mature / oneshot / 1010 words

Autors Summary: Steve is insecure about his scars. Eddie wants him to know he loves everything about him.

get you wild, make you leave ( a little much for everyone. ) by peachyyjacobs

General Audiences / oneshot / 3268 words

Autors Summary: “Hey,” he murmurs, slowly sitting up. Eddie whips his head to look in Steve’s direction, eyes wide and wild. He looks scared. “What’s up?” Steve whispers, more than ready to help. Eddie just shakes his head, his arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Steve glances over at the clock, barely able to see the big hand pointed at the six, and the little hand pointed at two.

“It’s two thirty, Munson. Did you have a nightmare?” Steve asks inquisitively.

And finally, Eddie opens his mouth to speak. “No,” comes his defensive reply, but Steve sees right through him.

or, it's movie night at the Wheeler's, but Steve's got something in store for him.

There’s something that drives you wild by tipsy_shakespearean

Explicit / oneshot / 7367 words

Autors Summary: “You make another noise, I’ll stop, I swear I will.” Eddie warned him. Or tried to anyway, but his voice was low and deep and slightly scratchy in the quiet of the room, and it was doing nothing for Steve’s mental state. Eddie was just about to start again, when there was a noise in the hallway. It was barely anything, Steve could barely even hear it over the music still coming out of his record player, but they both froze. Eddie stared at him, eyes bright in the darkness of the room, as they both waited, listening.

“Old house.” Steve dared to whisper after a moment. “Probably settling, it makes weird noises all the time.”

“I don’t think-”

“Steve, honey are you on the phone in there?”

“Motherfucker.”

the affliction of the feeling by nondz (pinkjook)

Explicit / 2 chapter / 27k words

Autors Summary: “Hold on,” Robin interrupts. “Hold on, is this— are you, like. Do you know what masochism is?”

“I know like I act like it sometimes, Robin, but I’m not actually fucking twelve,” Steve says.

OR: Eddie has a black hanky in his back pocket.

chequered love by boyloser99

Teen And Up Audiences / 6 chapters / 12k words

Autors Summary: Eddie likes it when the rules are clear, when he knows what game he's playing. Steve doesn't seem to care about that, and turns over the chessboard before they've even begun.

Or, Eddie hooks up with Steve after a party. Chaos ensues.

Who wants to live forever by starbeyy

Explicit / 5 chapter / 28k words

Autors Summary: In which Steve Harrington has two nightmares: The one he has about the fire at the Starcourt Mall every time he falls asleep, and the one where Eddie Munson visits him at Family Video to ask him for a favor.

The Picture Perfect Couple by marsnack

General Audiences / oneshot / 5718 words

Autors Summary: Robin haves a problem. Turns out, Eddie Munson haves the same problem, too. That problem is Nancy and Steve's seemingly perfect blooming romance.

Eddie My Love by Katie_Armstrong

General Audiences / oneshot / 973 words

Autors Summary: One morning, Eddie wakes up and finds Steve cooking him breakfast in the kitchen, and singing a certain song.

Like You Do by Blapblaps

Teen And Up Audiences / oneshot / 5326 words

Autors Summary: Steve has nightmares. Bloody, gut wrenching things that keep him up at night and threaten to suffocate him. Panicking and convinced he’s dying, he rushes to Eddie’s place in the middle of the night without meaning to. He can’t bear to be alone, and realizes that in Eddie’s arms is exactly where he wants to be.

round and round by Anonymous

Explicit / oneshot / 5420 words

Autors Summary: Steve can't get enough, but the great thing is that Eddie's right there on the same page with him. Steve wants to fuck Eddie all the time, and Eddie wants to be fucked by Steve all the time. It's an extremely good setup they've got going.

Twist of Fate by buckysbih

General Audiences / oneshot / 3441 words

Autors Summary: Eddie Munson used to know his place was the spot next to Steve Harrington's, but now he's searching the room for an empty seat. Eddie and Steve have a bad fight that leads to Eddie walking out. They may or may not have broken up? Honestly, they're both not quite sure. They see each other for the first time at Robin and Nancy's engagement party but aren't exactly on speaking terms yet.

Melt by Blapblaps

Explicit / oneshot / 2050 words

Autors Summary: Steve’s gotta wake up to get ready for work soon, and Eddie’s in the habit of waking him up in the mornings since he’s always the first to crack open his eyes. Eddie woke up this morning with the aftertaste of Steve in his mouth, and he needs Steve on top of him before he goes, just for a little while.

Falling Off The Edge Of The World by coeurdeleo92

Teen And Up Audiences / oneshot / 3638 words

Autors Summary: Steve is rapidly discovering that Eddie Munson has zero concept of personal space. He isn’t exactly complaining though.

#steddie #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #ao3 #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #99% of them are recommended by my best friend #fanfiction recommendation

32 notes · View notes

evilneo · 1 year

Note

Mal, you have quite the name hoard! If you don't mind me asking, how did you find them? Do you have any tips or sources for other people trying to figure out their own names?

my name list if anyones wondering! :)

RIGHT SO. i have an easier time getting attached to names that arent traditionally names, yknow? like phrases from songs, concepts etc. also character names. my top tip is if something resonates with you, whether it be a phrase or a song, look for something you can call yourself. you can name yourself an entire phrase if you want fuck it we ball ! also if you think MY name hoard is impressive you should see some of my friends and partners <3 one of them has 80+ names and its SO SWAGFUL (HI BINGO! SHOUT OUT!)

how I found my names:

Neo: the funny guy! his autism resonated with me. i wanted to feel as free to express myself as they do :)

Artificial Intelligence: in headspace, I'm a robot alter and i thought id be funny :) what solidified it as My Name was one of my friends said that i could shorten it to Artie and itd be cute so i do <3 AIs resonate with me anyway bc of like. autism and my schizo-spec swag :p

Evil + Antagonist + Malice + Vice: all of these names mean like. the same thing. The Evil.... I was having a rough time with it at the time of picking these names and thats how i coped 👍 and im still like. really attached to them :3c

Malware: mashup of the above 2 reasons ALSO an autism moment. I love you y2kvr <3

Spam: i will be real with you. Smapton. our autism and psychosis icon <3

Video: OOOOHHHH YEAH BABY. THE SONG! I have a lot of personal attachments to the song Video Killed The Radio Star and like. its a good fucking song.... i need more song names TBH

honourary mentions of names i dont use anymore n why:

Gordon: OH YEA BABY! AUTISM! started using it bc i do have an attachment to the guy. stopped using it bc theres 11 Gordon Freeman fictives in my system and most of them still use it as a name to SOME extent. also i know 1000000 Gordon fictives.... it got too confusing KSGSJSKSK

Tommy: similar reasons to Gordon except it wasnt in my system JSSJSK

Moth: this was like my second chosen name and ppl irl still call me this JSBSHSVSHSVSJS i picked this bc i thought it was kinda cool and also i wanted a 4 letter long name. sorry for being a hs fan when i was 14 </3

Ash: FIRST CHOSEN NAME when i was like 11 AOAUG. named myself this to match an ex FP/boyfriend. DONT DO THIS 👍 BAD IDEA!

#asks #anon #💾vhs

7 notes · View notes

elytrafemme · 2 years

Note

you've talked about switching a lot recently but i've only just now been able to sit down and give my own little account 👍 yippie 🎉

however tbh if you're like "i'm donee talking about this tehehe" throw this ask out the window. shatter the glass for fun either way

anyways!! switching is so freaking funky, especially recently for us because it's been a lot of blurry and stressful switches.. probably due to midterms season? not too sure but also it's october so the mind is becoming full bonkers mode ya know

anyways, for us switches can either be super obvious or just go completely under the radar. there's no i between, and the easier the switch is, the less likely we are to like register that one happened.

well, specifically me because i have a tendency to stay around in co con a lot. when someone switches into co con with me it's usually pretty smooth, and fast, being brought about by very like random things. a song or an image or maybe how someone worded something! ya know

anyways, longer and more difficult switches which can get really rough. i think it's just, we have a really hard time with someone going from not in or near front just coming in full swing. that and also just needing to get someone out and they don't want to be.

but longer switches usually cause us to get really tired and dizzy (and usually an assortment of varying kinds of dissociative) and there's a weird like mental sensation almost like being dragged under into a swamp or being buried in pillows? it's like brain fog turned up an extreme amount

but there's on occasional full switch without all of that, but those are few and far i between. usually these are like zoning out but like for 10 minutes. like a shut down and reboot bust someone else hit the power on button ig.

actually tbh we see a lot of your system things in a very like computer sorta since?? we have a memory/trauma holder who like will create like "firewalls" to block information and sometimes even like shut down a chess to leave/get into front. it's kinda funny now that i'm thinking about it, the whole computer theming

anyways it's also important to note that we have an awful time of realizing who's in front until there's something very distinctly that alter that gets thought/done. that could be due to the heavy mental ick for a past bit, but it also might be a general thing. in fairness we haven't been tracking too long so it's hard to say.

however all around it's like... we struggle finding the queues as to who's in front, especially cuz i am usually there co con and conducting what like i think is best sorta thing. but hm yea i'm loosing the point i'm trying to say to sleepy soupy brain. anyways

i hope you are doing well! and if not that you are able to find contentment soon! i hope today will be a good day, because you deserve it!

HEY ITS BEEN A BIT SINCE U SENT THIS SRRY im having another lunarbloom nightmare switch moments so this is relevant once more and in fact probably will always be relevant bc this is lik daily fdshk

okay i had never thought about it like that as like. the easier the switch the less likely its noticeable. because im thinking now like there have been a lot of times where i abruptly start acting different but dont remember switching but maybe i did? but its just seamless. hm

handshake u and me being hosts that frequent co conning

OH INTERESTING !! despite being a pretty brain foggy individual i dont notice a tonnn of brain fog when i swtich so that is really interesting to note :o plus the synonyms u use those r so interesting

haunted by the metaphors and symbolism <- assigned computer at system

sorry if this is like all over the place as a response but overall this is so so interesting ty for sharing :O always interesting to see how ppl switch since it varies sm!

#nightmare.ask #nightmare.system #sleepy anon ☁️#long post

2 notes · View notes

lusciouslii · 2 years

Text

actually yknow what forget that, my kink blog ill post whatever little thoughts i want. even if im just yelling into the void at least i get to yell!

longer rant incoming bc im tired and want this out of my system!!

so i met this guy on feabie and immediately it was super exciting because we go to the same college!!

hes also super fucking hot which was its own weird thing bc ive really never experienced like physical sexual attraction so that was weird. but yeah dude looks good and he has a nice voice so thats already not helping me

we’ve met up a couple times now, once to sorta test the waters, once just to cuddle in my room???? which looking back it was at that point i was straight up fucked because as someone who had recently gotten out of a bad relationship in which all my needs and emotions had been completely neglected, having that kind of sweet and affectionate intimacy?? all while my chubby body is being praised and adored??? never once had that in my LIFE.

the other few times has been pretty lowkey too. we did do a feeding session once but i got sick and it was the most humiliating thing. but he was so nice and caring and we continued to talk afterwards so i just try not to think about it anymore lol

we didnt talk much over the summer since i had to go back home across the country, but he reached out a few times and i was like damn ok im still of interest to him

this semester started great because i planted the seed (aka posted a pic showing i was back over here) knowing he would probably see it and if he’d say anything, and he fucking did he reached out and was excited i was back and wanted to meet up soon. schedules were a little rough but eventually we did!

i felt extra happy because it was sort if spur of the moment decision and he was moving back an online hangout he’d been planning with friends for a couple weeks. so i was like omg he really wants to see me even if only for a little bit thats so nice

and now that we have several months ahead of us we started talking about doing more of a feeder/feedee setup and things like that and im, obviously, super into the idea, and he seemed super into it too!! the dirty things he said to me that night!!!! not fair!!!!!!!

i sent pics later that night bc we talked about it and he said he’d “return the favor” lol but the. like. i sent them and he didn’t say anything until i posted a pic to feabie 🙃 and he was like oh sorry i completely missed your text! which like alright, and he asked me how i was doing and blah blah brief smalltalk

i asked if he wanted to meet up again soon and he said “Yea I’d be down, I gotta see what’s going on tho / need to play it by ear”

now heres where i get all introspective because to me, i dont see why we couldnt just schedule something in the future. unless, that is, hes trying to keep his schedule open for other stuff. i can get that to a certain degree, and i have to like. really ponder on it because i dont want to be some clingy needy girl who is fawning after a guy im not even dating, but its like….idk it makes me feel kinda sad? that im not enough of a priority to want to pick a set day to do something? so idk how to feel about that exactly

anyways i tried asking again some days later and he wasnt free, no surprise, usually when we do something its sorta this impulsive last minute thing, which again like. sorta plays into that whole im not really a priority unless idk youre horny or something

but its weird cause it seems like he does care and does want more than just horny shenanigans? we havent had sex yet and have only even had one actual feeding session. soooo worlds most patient fuckboy if thats the case but i just really dont get those vibes

but also im gullible and see the best in people i care about and thats how i got fucked over in my last relationship

im just feeling pretty sad about the whole thing right now because we talked about doing all these things and i really want that but hes so uncommunicative and im afraid of being obsessive. again, might be on me too because im going in thinking maybe theres a chance to do more

but then again even if there isnt thats FINE i just want to do SOMETHING lmao

so now im just left wanting and thinking about him a lot and oh yeah need i remind WE GO TO THE SAME SCHOOL WHY CANT WE JUST MEET UP CASUALLY ONE AFTERNOON 😭

idk but im afraid of maybe ruining the best relationship ive formed in this kink after figuring out what i wanted from it. god even now im just like “youre thinking too hard about this it doesnt matter that much, youre supposed to be flexible and chill and just go with the flow cause its just a little side thing” but welp. my brain is noisy and i dont have a good outlet. another problem of not having friends in this kink but im not good at responding to people which online is the only way to talk to people and now im just rambling

anyways ending this here and hoping he’ll reach out eventually cause boy does the heart yearn 🥲🥲🥲

#also WOW i pray he doesnt somehow find this #he doesnt have my tumblr #but it wouldnt be too hard to figure out from what he does have

2 notes · View notes

luckycheesefoodie321 · 2 years

Text

WIP - Undetermined Dystopia YA fiction story chapter 1

Been doing some writing and have been really invested in this one story and figured why the hell not. Guess I'll post. Considered posting to the old Wattpad account but the emotional scars of my youth are not healed yet (I joke). Would love some critiques. Really just something I'm doing for fun.

Uhh basic premise - Earth went to shit bc environmental reasons, so now humanity lives on Earth-2. It's been around 100 years since then and humanity is living in or around 5 core bases, and a job called the Couriers was developed to deliver messages and rations to surrounding communities, but evolved into more of a recon/military unit. We follow Lae Stenford of Base 3, who is leading her unit of Couriers through mystery and battles and such.

Only up to about Chapter 6. Might give you The 100 vibes (since that's what I'm watching right now so I'm just in the mood). Might give you some Hunger Games vibes idk. Tonally, idk where its going but in for the ride! Have a rough outline on what i want to happen but heavily unedited... anyway, enjoy!

CHAPTER 1

The Pit was vicious.

Rising heat simmered in a haze above the ring of fanatics screaming for blood as two men grappled furiously in the arena. Other than two large spotlights trained on the fighters, the rest of the small space was dimly lit. Some fifty bodies packed tightly into this enclosed space made moving through the area near impossible as they fought to get a better look at the fight in the hole below.

But a single figure weaved through the crowd with relative ease.

They were in an underground cave system built into a mountain, tunnels trailing off on all sides leading either to the outside or further into the rock. This wider cave had a slight ledge leading to a precipitous drop, with an almost perfectly circular pit dug in the centre, seemingly created through millions of years of water erosion and polishing.

In the ring, the two men were bearing down on each other, bare chested and bodies slick with sweat. One was a hulking mass of a man, bald and covered in chest hair. He roared as he thundered towards his opponent.

The other man was tall, broad in shoulders, with a body honed for battle. Scars marred him from neck to waist. Dark, stringy curls clung to his face and curled around his ears. With one eye bloodied and bruised, a single deep, dark eye was trained on the bull elephant charging towards him, his arms held forward in a loose defensive position.

The figure watched.

Just as the bald man came within swinging reach of the tall man, the latter rushed forward himself, sweeping down and low, with his hands following suit. In one smooth, fluid motion, he leveraged the larger man’s momentum, grabbed his waist, and with an almighty heave, tossed him over his shoulder and straight into the black iron bars that encircled the arena.

The bald man crashed head first into the unforgiving metal, and part of his face crumpled as his cheekbone snapped. His left eye hit just wrong against the metal and nearly popped out of his skull in an explosion of blood.

He slumped to the floor. The crowd was silent as they waited to see if he would stand up.

The tall man slowly straightened up, chest heaving from the effort, and slicked back his hair. He raised a single fist in the air.

A feral din arose from the audience as they hollered at the defending champion’s victory.

The figure immediately raised a hand. Flood lights lit up the enclosed space.

The victor stumbled back from the blinding light as the crowd’s cheering was cut short, groaning as their eyes tried to adjust. Confusion settled like a hum as people called out, wondering where the light had come from.

Shadow-like figures from the crowd sprang into action, grabbing onto audience members, shoving them to their knees and binding their arms.

“It’s the Patrol!” a single voice yelled, and the fifty-strong crowd started to scatter en masse out of the arena.

It was bedlam.

Flailing bodies clambered over each other, trying to avoid containment. The shadowed figures weaved deftly through the screaming patrons, avoiding the desperate punches and sloppy kicks, and incapacitated their would-be attackers with precision.

As the first figure watched, the victorious fighter grabbed his opponent and, throwing his arm over his shoulder, hustled to an exit hidden from her view.

Some dozen people managed to wriggle past and out into the tunnels that led to the outside, throwing others into the path of the small squadron of military personnel.

But some 20 minutes later, over two dozen people were knelt, hands and feet bound before the ten or so patrol officers.

Lae Stenford finally pulled off her hood, eyes sweeping the area. A couple of her comrades stepped up to her.

“Shall we get to that appointment?”

—

“You want me to give up my best fighter?” the Chief scoffed, leaning back in the ratty leather backed chair, his grimy finger nails combing through his slick, greasy hair that fell down his back. “Don’t waste my time. I have a match going on.”

They were sitting in another small pocket of the mountain, this ‘room’ retrofitted to be the Chief’s office. Moisture coated the walls, and a persistent chill hung in the air. A couple of doors were hastily nailed together from some planks of wood and placed over the two exits that led deeper into the mountain.

“You would be well compensated,” a pouch of grain was tossed on the table, and the Chief snorted. He looked across at the young woman he was negotiating with.

Her hair was wound into a tight bun, almost black in the darkly lit room. Her eyes flashed gold in the meagre glow of the lamp on his desk. She was clad in a simple grey hooded jacket, and black jeans. She lounged casually on the rickety wooden chair he had provided for her, but her piercing gaze belied her true nature.

“I can make that much off one of my rookies,” he spat out a wad of chewing tobacco, some saliva dribbling down his chin. Lae’s eyes didn’t waver from his.

She simply threw another pouch on the table.

The Chief merely raised his brows. She inhaled slowly.

The Chief was a common type of business thug. He had built this underground fighting ring to feed upon the desperation of hungry citizens by tempting them with the lure of gambling and reward in a meagre world with little entertainment and fewer resources. This Chief also knew when an asset was becoming more profitable, and intended to milk these people for all he could get from them.

“C’mon sweetheart. I know you got more in you than that” he sneered, and Lae let out her breath.

“One last chance, Chief,” she warned him, throwing a third, slightly larger bag of grain on the table. His eyes widened in mock fear, before barking out a laugh.

“Believe I’m the one in the position of advantage, sweetheart,” he told me, before jumping out of his seat and sweeping the bags of grain off the table. “What’s a bitch like you gonna do?” he snarled.

She didn’t let the stench of his breath linger for even a second.

Lae grabbed him by his greasy locks and slammed his face down hard into his rusted, metal desk. He slid backwards, groaning as he struggled to lift his head.

His nose spurted blood, bent at a horrific angle.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he yelled. “GUARDS!”

No one came.

The Chief felt his pulse quicken as he tried desperately to breathe through his mouth. The woman in front of him merely raised a brow, and leaned back into her seat, arms crossed, and legs stretched out before her.

“GUARDS!” he yelled once more, coughing as blood dribbled into his mouth.

Still no one arrived.

“You starting to get it?” he turned at her voice, and her gold eyes glinted meanly.

“What,” he stammered. “What did you do?”

His breaths were coming out in ragged gasps as his vision swam.

“Took out your guards about a half hour ago.” She ticked off her fingers. “Most of your crowd is now tied up and the winnings confiscated.”

“Hang on. Wait. What-” he mumbled, blinking rapidly. She leaned forward and laced her fingers together on the desk.

“Believe this means that I’m the one in the position of advantage, sweetheart,” she grinned, baring her teeth in what he could only describe as a snarl.

Footsteps sounded down one of the halls and for a moment, the Chief’s heart leapt in hope, but a stocky blonde man, and two others he did not recognise entered instead, and made a beeline for the woman.

He felt the pit in his stomach grow more painful.

“Have you cleared out the arena?” Lae asked, not taking her eyes off the snivelling mess of a man before her.

“All done Lae” Stefan reported. She nodded, before pushing away from the table and standing.

“Clean him up,” she gestured to the Chief, who know slumped in his chair, head hanging heavily to the side. Stefan moved forward to bind the semi-conscious man.

“Should’ve taken the deal, Chief” she clicked her tongue in mock disappointment, turning away.

The Chief watched her move away as his vision blackened, the bitter taste of bile coating his tongue. Soon he was deadweight, and Stefan grunted as he dragged the unconscious man out of his chair and into the hands of the other two patrol officers.

Just then, another person burst through the doors to the makeshift office.

“I’ve found all the fighters,” he announced and Lae swept out the door after him.

There were six cells lining the hallway. Built into another heavily pockmarked section of the mountain, simple iron bars were slotted into the overhanging rock above and into the rock below, using the more shallow indentations to create enclosed rooms.

In these rooms were a motley assortment of fighting folk, garbed in simple leather armour and dirty cotton clothing underneath, each cell housing 2 people.

“King’s guard? Come to save us poor, unfortunate souls,” a sneering young woman’s voice came out of one of the cells. Lae looked at her. Fierce blue eyes and tightly braided red hair running down the centre of her head, with either side shaved clean. A fitted plastic prosthetic in place of her right forearm and hand.

“Would you rather stay here?” Wollis asked, banging the hilt of her knife against the cell bars. The woman winked, leering at the other woman.

“Maybe if you were in here with me,” Wollis snorted, and kept following Lae as she walked past the other cells.

“You were out there in the crowd,” another voice called down from the end of the hall. Lae walked down and found the man she had watched earlier, shoulder propped against the cell bars, smirking at her. Also inside the cell was the man he had defeated, nursing his wounded eye on the bottom bunk.

Lae stood in front of his cell, but said nothing. He scanned the woman, noting her stance and the severe look in her golden eyes.

“You look like a fighter. What say we go a few rounds?” He winked, but with one eye beaten shut, it looked more like a muscle spasm. Lae pursed her lips, and the man briefly wondered if she was considering his proposition.

She shrugged. Lae nodded for Stefan to open the cell door, and the cell clattered open.

The man slowly straightened, eyes locked on hers as he swivelled to face her head on. The bald man watched warily, his one good eye riveted to the pair.

A beat passed.

Suddenly, like a snake, he lunged forward.

Immediately, Wollis, and another of her crew, intercepted and restrained him, clipping him in the back of the knees so he thudded to the floor, back bent forwards, hair hanging in stringy clumps in front of his face. Most of his curls were matted and stuck to his temples, still dripping with sweat from the match not even 20 minutes prior.

Lae sniffed, before crouching to eye level with the man.

“Can’t take me yourself?” he scoffed as Wollis shoved his head down.

“Don’t wanna waste my time and energy,” she nodded at Wollis to let up and she let go of the man’s neck. “What’s your name?” Lae asked.

He flicked his hair out of his eyes and looked up. Gold met black and he grinned. His teeth were bloody, and his face was coated in grime.

“Alta Brennan, my lady,” he bobbed his head in a mock bow as a smirk fell on his lips.

Lae looked at the dishevelled man for another beat before nodding to her companions.

Stefan immediately stepped forward and addressed all the prisoners.

“Your Chief has been apprehended and the Pit shut down,” he announced. “We will be transporting you all to Base 3, and from there you will be processed.”

“Oh, we’d be delighted to join you!” Alta mocked.

Lae pursed her lips, and flicked her eyes over to Tran, who restrained the other side of the dishevelled pit fighter.

“Can we gag him too?” Tran chuckled, though he suspected his captain was only half-joking.

“Do whatever you want to me, sweetheart. Just let me clean up a bit.” Alta winked. Lae gave him a long look.

“Tran?”

“Yeah boss?”

“Gag him.”

#and thats that #wip #work in progress #writing #writing wip #original story #long post #story #story ideas #story writing #lae stenford #alta brennan #post apocalyptic #dystopia #yes i'm back in my dystopia ya fiction phase #this is what happens when you watch shows made mid-2010s #chapter 1 #no this does not have a title #undetermined dystopia ya fiction chapter 1

0 notes

gingerbaker · 3 years

Text

it is times like these where i remember how much i luv system of a down

#op #i am about to get very therapy on you people in the tags so if you dont want 2 see my emotions i need you to leave #anyway. i think i got attached to system of a down when i was 12 because i liked their music and then i learned more about them and exploded #not in a bad way i was just like oh god oh fuck the classic immigrant parents special! did not help that i was also having an identity crisi #s #why the hell do i keep running out of space right as i finish my sentences. tumblr is homophobic #ADDITIONALLY DOES NOT HELP THAT I WANT 2 DRESS LIKE ONE OF THEM #sometimes the world is cruel and sometimes it is unhappy but then i put on a big t shirt and it gets better #me wearing a huge t shirt like hmm i will get a good grade in daron malakian something every normal human wants to achieve #or however that post goes idk #anyway i am listening 2 shes like heroin on repeat idk this is my comfort song now. it has been for a while not bc it's deep or anything #i just think it's silly. funny even #also today has been. kinda rough so i enjoy having time 2 myself to be funny on the internet #ok that concludes today's therapy session. in case you could not tell my therapist had to reschedule my actual appointment

2 notes · View notes

janecrockeyre · 3 years

Text

scum villain is a greek tragedy disguised as a regular tragedy disguised as a comedy disguised as a danmei

this is going to be long, and this is only PART ONE.

a.k.a, Analysing the plot of Scum Villain’s Self Saving System through Aristotle’s Poetics, because I Have Mental Issues

Part One: Introduction and the Tragic Hero

Scum Villain’s Self Saving System is a tragedy disguised as a comedy, unless you’re Shen Yuan, in which case it’s a mixture of a romance and a survival horror. It's a fever dream. It's a horrible, terrible book that made me feel new undiscovered emotions when I finished reading it.

The thing is... SVSSS shares characteristics with some of the most famous tragedies in the West, such as Oedipus Rex, Medea, Antigone, the Oresteia... if you haven’t read these, I’ll explain everything. But the gist of my argument is this: SVSSS is the perfect tragedy. In triplicate.

Tragedy as a genre is old as balls and so it has meant slightly different things to different people over the last few thousand years. I'll be focusing on ancient Greek tragedy, which was performed at the yearly Festival of Dionysus in Athens during the 500-350s BC (give or take a hundred years). Aristotle, when writing about this very specific subset of tragedy, had no idea that one day Scum Villain would be written, and then that I would be using his work as a way to look at Shen Qingqiu’s Funky Transmigration Mistake. Anyway!

Greek tragedy greatly influenced European dramatic tradition. I have a lot of opinions about white academics idolising and upholding the classics as the "paragon of culture" but I'll withhold them for now. I have no idea if MXTX has read Greek tragedy or not, so don't take this as me saying they are writing it.

In my opinion, tragedy is a universal human constant. We are surrounded by pain and hurt and none of it makes any sense, so we seek to process that pain through drama, art, literature, etc. We want to understand why pain happens, and how it happens, and try to make sense of the senseless. The universe is cold and cruel and random. Tragedy eases some of that pain.

On that note: Just because I am analysing Scum Villain through a Greek lens doesn't mean that it was written that way. I'm pasting an interpretation onto the book when there's probably a very rich and deep history of Chinese tragedy that I just don't know about. If you ever want to talk about that, please, god, hit me up, I would love to learn about it!!

Anyway, tragedy. MXTX is excellent at it! Mo Dao Zu Shi? Painful dynastic family tragedy. Heaven Official's Blessing? Mostly romance, but she managed to get that pure pain in there, huh?

But in my opinion, Scum Villain holds the crown for the most tragic of her stories. MDZS was more of a mystery. TGCF was more of a romance. Neither of them shy away from their tragic elements.

Scum Villain would fit right in between the work of Sophocles, Euripides and Aeschylus. How? Let me show you. Join me on my mystery tour into the world of "Aristotle Analyses Danmei..."

Part One: The Tragic Hero

What is a tragic hero? Generally, Greek tragic heroes are united by the same key characteristics. He must be imperfect, having a "fatal flaw" of some kind. He must have something to lose. And he must go from fortune to misfortune thanks to that fatal flaw.

There are two (technically three) tragic protagonists in SVSSS and all of them are tragic in different but formulaic ways. Each protagonist has their own version of “hamartia” or a “fatal flaw”.

Actually, hamartia isn’t necessarily a flaw - rather, it is a thing which makes the audience pity and fear for them, a careful imperfection, a point of weakness in the character’s morality or reasoning that allows for bad things to happen to them. For example, in Oedipus Rex, the king Oedipus has a “fatal flaw” of always wanting to find the truth, but this isn’t exactly a flaw, right? Note: this flaw can be completely unwitting, as we see with Shen Yuan. It can also be something that the protagonist is born with, some kind of trait from birth or very young.

Shen Yuan

Shen Yuan’s “hamartia” is his rigid adherence to fate and his inability to read a situation as anything but how he thinks it ought to be. He believes that Bingmei will grow into Bingge, and it takes several years, two deaths, and some truly traumatising sex to convince him otherwise.

Shen Jiu

Shen Jiu’s fatal flaw is his cruelty. It is his own sadistic treatment and abuse of Binghe which directly leads to his eventual dismemberment. This is kind of a no-brainer. Of course, it isn't all that simple, and as an audience we pity him for his cruelty as much as we fear it because we know it comes from his own abuse as a child. This just makes him even more tragic. Delicious.

Luo Binghe

Luo Binghe’s fatal flaw is a complicated mix of things. It is his position as the “protagonist” which compels him to act in certain ways and be forced to suffer. It is his half-demonic heritage, something entirely out of his control, which sets in motion his tragic reversal of fortune when he gets yeeted into the Abyss. He also, much like Shen Yuan, has the propensity to jump to conclusions and somehow make 2 + 2 = 5.

As well as having their respective “flaws”, all three protagonists match the rough outline of a good tragic hero in another way: they are in a position of great wealth and power. Even when you split the different characters into different “versions”, this still holds true. Yes, Luo Binghe is raised a commoner by a washerwoman foster mother, but his dad is an emperor and he also ends up becoming an emperor himself.

Yes, Shen Jiu is an ex-slave and a victim of abuse himself, but Shen Qingqiu is a powerful peak lord with an entire mountain’s worth of resources at his back.

Shen Yuan is a second generation new money rich kid.

Bingge is a stereotypical protagonist with a golden finger. Bingmei is a treasured and loved disciple with a good reputation and a privileged seat by his shizun’s side.

In a tragedy, having this kind of good fortune at the beginning of your story is dangerous. Chaucer says that tragedy is (badly translated into modern english) “a certain story / of him that stood in great prosperity / and falls out of high degree / into misery, and ends up wretchedly”. If we follow this line of thinking, a good tragedy is about someone who has a lot to lose, losing everything because of one fatal point of weakness that they fail to address or understand.

If we look at Shakespeare, this is what makes King Lear such a fantastic tragic protagonist. He is a king in control of most of England, who from his own lack of wisdom and excess of pride, decides to split his kingdom apart to give to his daughters, favouring his murderous, double crossing progeny, and condemning his only actually filial daughter to death. He loses his kingdom, his mind, and his beloved daughter, all because of his own stupidity.

This brings us to:

Part Two: Peripeteia

This reversal of fortunes is called peripeteia. It is the moment where the entire plot shifts, and the hero’s fortunes go from good to bad. Think of it like one of those magic eye puzzles, where you stare at the image until a 3D shark appears, except you realise the shark was always there, you just couldn't ever see it, waiting for you, hungry, deadly, always lurking just behind that delightful pattern of random blue squiggles.

Each tragic hero has their own moment of peripeteia in SVSSS, sometimes several:

Shen Qingqiu

In the original PIDW, SQQ’s peripeteia presumably occurs when he finds out that Bingge didn’t perish in the Abyss but has actually been training hard to come and pay him back. There’s really not much I’m interested in saying here - as a villain, OG!SQQ is cut and dry, and the audience doesn’t really feel any pity or fear for him. As Shen Yuan often mentions, what the audience feels when they see OG!SQQ is bloodlust and sick satisfaction. There is also the trial at Huan Hua Palace, which I will talk about in Shen Yuan’s section.

Shen Yuan (SQQ 2.0)

One of SY’s most poggers moment of peripeteia is the glorious, terrifying section between hearing Binghe for the first time after the Abyss moment, and getting shoved into the Water Prison.

“Behind him, a low and soft voice came: “Shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu’s neck felt stiff as he slowly turned his head. Luo Binghe’s face was the most frightening thing he had ever seen.

The scariest thing about it was that the expression on his face was not cold at all. His smile wasn’t sharp like a knife. Rather, it showed a kind of bone-deep gentleness and amiability.”

This is the moment of true horror for Shen Yuan, because he knows what happens next: the plot unfurls before him, inevitable and painful, and he knows that death awaits him at Luo Binghe's hands (lol). Compare it with the bone deep certainty with which he faces his own downfall during the sham of a trial later in the chapter (I’ve bolded the important part):

“In the original work, Qiu Haitang’s appearance signified only one thing: Shen Qingqiu’s complete fall from grace. [...] Shen Qingqiu’s heart streamed with tears. Great Master… I know you’re doing this for my own good, but I’ll actually suffer if she speaks her words clearly. This truly is the saying “not frightened of doing a shameful deed, just afraid the ghost (consequences) will come knocking”!”

After the peripeteia is usually the denouement where the plot wraps up and the threads are all tied together leaving no loose ends, but because this tragedy isn’t Shen Yuan’s but the former Shen Jiu’s, it’s impossible to finish.

Shen Yuan cannot provide the meaningful answers that the narrative demands because 1) he doesn’t have any memory of doing anything, and 2) he wasn’t the person who did them. Narratively, he cannot follow the same path as the former SQQ because he lacks the same fatal flaw: cruelty.

This is why Binghe doesn’t kill him - because he loves him, rather than despises him. And this is why Shen Yuan has to sacrifice himself and die for Luo Binghe in order to save him from Xin Mo: because the narrative demands that denouement follows peripeteia, and SQQ’s fate is in the hands of the narrative.

(Side note: I believe that this literal death also represents the death of OG!SQQ's tragic arc. The body that committed all those crimes must die to satisfy the narrative. SQQ must die, like burning down a forest, so that new growth can sprout from the ashes. After this, Shen Yuan's story has more room to develop instead.)

It must happen to show Bingmei that SQQ loves him too. And this brings us to Bingmei.

Bingmei

Bingmei has two succinct moments of utter downfall. The first is a literal fall - his flaw, his demonic heritage, leads his beloved shizun to throw him down into the Abyss. From his point of view, SQQ is punishing him simply for the status of his birth. He rapidly goes from being loved and cherished unconditionally, to being the victim of an assassination attempt.

He realises that he is totally unlovable: that for the crimes of his species that he never had a hand in, he must pay the price as well: that his shizun is so righteous that no matter what love there was between them, if SQQ sees a demon, he will kill it. Even if that demon is Bingmei.

The second moment is when SQQ dies for him. Again, from his point of view, he was chasing after a man who was struggling to see him as a human being. Shen Qingqiu’s death makes Bingmei realise that he has been completely misunderstanding his shizun: that SQQ would literally die for him, the ultimate act of self sacrifice from love: that SQQ loved him despite his demon heritage.

Much like King Lear holding the corpse of his daughter and wailing in sheer grief and pain because he did this, he caused this, Bingmei gets to hold his shizun's cold body and cry his eyes out and know that it was his fault. (Kind of.)

(Yes, I’m bringing Shakespeare into this, no I am not justifying myself)

Maybe I'm a bit sadistic, but that scene slaps. Let me show you a comparison of scenes so you get the picture.

Re-enter KING LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms; EDGAR, Captain, and others following

KING LEAR

Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:

Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so

That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!

I know when one is dead, and when one lives;

She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;

If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,

Why, then she lives.

[...]

KING LEAR

And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life!

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,

And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,

Never, never, never, never, never!

Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.

Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,

Look there, look there!

Dies

Versus this scene in SVSSS:

Luo Binghe turned a deaf ear to everything else, greatly agitated and at a loss of what to do. He was still holding Shen Qingqiu’s body, which was rapidly cooling down. It seemed like he wanted to call for him loudly and forcefully shake him awake, yet he didn’t dare to, as if he was afraid of being scolded. He said slowly, “Shizun?”

[...]

Luo Binghe involuntarily held Shen Qingqiu closer.

He said in a small voice, “I was wrong, Shizun, I really… know that I was wrong.

“I… I didn’t want to kill you…”

PAIN. SO MUCH BEAUTIFUL PAIN. Yes, I know Shakespeare isn’t Athenian, but he was inspired by the good old stuff and he also knew how to write a perfect tragedy on his own terms. Anyway. I’ll find more Greek examples later.

This post was a bit all over the place, but I hope it has been fun to read. Part Two will be coming At Some Point, Who Knows When. This is a bit messy and unedited, but hey, I’m not getting paid or graded, so you can eat any typos or errors. Unless you’re here to talk to me about Chinese tragedy, in which case, please pull up a seat, let me get you a drink, make yourself at home.

ps: if you want to retweet this, here is the promo tweet!

#svsss #scum villain #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #greek tragedy #hello followers this account has been silent for a long time but today i bring you whatever this is #long post #i am gonna cross post more art here from my twitter i think #you guys really like my shitposts on here

758 notes · View notes

reidgraygubler · 3 years

Text

caught in the nets (spencer reid/reader)

Title: caught in the nets

Requested: no

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader

Category: smut, fluff

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (penetrive sex, unsafe sex, public sex (public bathroom), fingering, handjob, grinding, groping, heavy petting, fucking with fishnets on, tipsy sex, possessive), hand on jaw/neck (no pressure), swearing, drinking, mentions of a gun, mentions of casework, friends to lovers

Word Count: 3,944

Summary: Spencer loves what reader is wearing while out at a bar with the team

A/N: hi guys, gals, and non-binary pals! Here’s another thing i wrote. this is another thing I was super excited to write. AND I wrote it for one of my bestest friends @spencer-reid-in-a-pool for pom’s server fic swap. I wrote it in literally two days bc I had a week to write it. But it does have a prompt and a few other things she likes in it! also quick shout out to @newportonmymind for proofreading this!! i really appreciate you! I really hope you guys enjoy this piece! Thank you all so much for the love and support! I appreciate it and you! Check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

Rough cases will always be the worst. Sometimes they felt hopeless, like we weren’t able to figure out how to save a victim. In the end we were able to save the victim and arrest the unsub. But it was still rough.

So drinks were a must when it came to the end of rough cases. I know it’s a bad thing to turn to drinking in a rough time. But sometimes nothing helped more than a drink. It was easier to relax with a little liquor in your system. Well, it was easier for me to relax with a little liquor. I couldn’t say about the rest of the team.

I was the one who offered up the idea of going to a bar when we returned home. I just needed a little something to help me unwind. Luke, Penelope and Tara were the next to say they’d be coming. After some light convincing, Emily, JJ, and Matt agreed. David was quick to leave before we could get to him about it.

Which left Spencer. At first he put up a fight, arguing that he had to go home. Home to what? We have the same situation. Eventually Penelope wore him down and got him to go.

“Okay, I’ll meet you guys there. I need to change out of these clothes.” I looked down at the business attire I had worn on the plane. I really wished I had changed out of them too, and into something more comfortable.

“Sounds good, Sweetness! See you in a bit.” Penelope looked at me with a smile. I returned the smile before collecting my things from my desk, and leaving.

Part of me wanted to wear a sweatshirt and sweatpants. But I also wanted to wear jeans and a tee-shirt, just to be comfortable. I also wanted to wear something more… party like. Mostly because we’re going to a bar, where there were going to be lots of people. Mmm…

I went with the latter. My outfit ended up consisting of a plain black top, paired with short-shorts and a “comfortable” pair of heels. Under the shorts I wore one of my favorite clothing items, a pair of black fishnets. They were one of my favorite things because I always gained the attention of someone. And I usually enjoyed that attention. I just don’t know whose attention I wanted.

Once I was satisfied with how I looked, I grabbed my bag and left for the bar. I was the first to leave the BAU, but the last to show up to the bar. Even Spencer was there before me, which was a rarity.

“Hey sorry I’m late. Traffic was nuts… And I just wanted to look nice,” I laughed nervously as I looked down before sitting beside Penelope. Everyone’s eyes were on me, and I tried to avoid the feeling of the stares. At first I tried to not be self-conscious, after all I was the one who wanted to dress a little more… sexy and get the attention of others.

“What are you wearing?” Luke asked after he took a sip of his beer. I looked down at my attire and shrugged.

“Wanted someone’s attention. Figured I’d get it here.” I gestured around the room towards the many groups of people. “Already got yours, Lukey-poo,” I cooed as I looked at him. He looked back at me with a weird look in his eyes. “Where’s Spence?”

“He went to get a drink.” JJ nodded towards the bar before sipping her drink. I looked over my shoulder and towards the bar. My eyes quickly identified the lanky and awkward body of Spencer standing beside the bar as he waited for a drink.

“Has the bartender been flirting with him the whole time?” I looked back at the team with wide eyes. Tara looked over at JJ with a smug smile before nodding. “No ones gonna save him?” “Figured we’d give him a try first.” Matt shrugged as he looked back at me. I let out a mildly annoyed sigh before standing up.

“Where are you going?” Emily asked as she looked at me. I smiled as her eyes very slowly lingered down my body. There was an obvious struggle, and I liked that. I was definitely getting the attention I craved tonight. Even though it’s from my superior.

“Gonna go save boy wonder from inevitable embarrassment that he will probably succumb to.” I rested my hand on the table as I looked at the team. JJ and Emily shared a knowing glance. “And I’m getting myself a drink.” I shrugged before shoving my hands in my small pockets and walked towards the bar and Spencer.

“Hey Spence!” I exclaimed as I looked at him. He looked away from the bartender and smiled. His smile, however, quickly melted away and a hungry look took over his eyes.

“H-hey,” he mumbled before looking back at the bartender. She looked between me and Spencer before muttering a few profanities and walking away. I smirked before taking the space up beside Spencer.

“You seeing something you like, Reid?” I asked as soon as I noticed him staring at me again. I leaned over the bar beside him and smiled.

“I.. Uh, I…” He cleared his throat before looking away from me and down at the counter. Well, maybe I did know whose attention I wanted…

“Anyways, I’ve come to save you.”

“Save me?”

“The bartender…” I whispered before nodding in her direction. Spencer looked down at her and we both caught her looking between us before dropping her gaze.

“The bartender?”

“Just get your drink and come on,” I laughed before standing up and away from the counter. Spencer looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. He was obviously confused as to what I was talking about. But I’ll honestly save him the embarrassment. “Oh, wait. I want a drink too!” I exclaimed as I leaned over the counter.

Once we both had our drinks, I silently led him back to the table. I enjoyed the feeling of people’s eyes on me as I walked by them. I could even sense Spencer staring at me. To be fair, my shorts were a little on the shorter side…

Maybe the attention I was getting was from the person I wanted it from the most…

Spencer and I returned to the table, and we were quick to join into whatever conversation they were having. The entertaining stories that Matt told about his kids made everyone go into a fit of laughter.

The laughter only grew the more drinks that everyone had consumed. We weren’t exactly drunk, well some of us weren’t drunk. But when someone in the bar orders a round of drinks for the table, it’s hard to say no.

JJ, Spencer and Matt were the only ‘mostly sober’ ones. Followed by Tara and me being tipsy, but sober enough to know what was happening. Penelope, Luke and Emily had enough to drink and had left the table to go dance with each other and random people in the bar.

“I wanna dance,” I muttered as I looked down at the table. Matt cleared his throat, causing me to look up at him. He was nodding a Spencer, who was looking around the room at all the other people. A small smile grew across my lips before I jumped from my seat. Spencer and JJ both looked at me with shock on their faces.

I looked right at Spencer and smiled. “You.” I pointed at him. “Me.” Then I pointed at myself. “We’re dancing,” I spoke as I jerked my thumb behind me. Spencer’s face fell slightly as he watched me walk to stand in front of him. I smiled as his eyes lingered on my body for a brief moment before landing on my face. “Come on. Let’s leave mom and dad alone.” I lifted a hand for him to take. He looked at it for a moment before hesitantly placing his hand into mine.

Once he stood, I dragged him over to the dance floor, where we both stood still. I didn’t know what was going through his head, but I wished I did. His body wasn’t tense, in fact I could tell he liked that I was being daring and the close proximity I was in.

We, and by we I mean me, hardly danced. It was mostly just me. And my dance moves consisted of me grinding on him. Which seemed to rile him up enough to entertain me. I enjoyed it more when he rested his hands on my hips and held me in front of him.

I looked around the room at all the people, watching as they continued dancing with their friends and people. Then I looked back at Spencer before grabbing his hand. His once hazel eyes were blown out black and a look of hunger and lust was settled in them. He looked like he knew what he wanted, and he was about to do anything in his power to get it too.

I looked away from him and around the room, again, looking for a familiar face. It wasn’t that I needed someone to save me from this moment. No. I needed to make sure none of our friends saw what I was about to do next.

I turned to face Spencer again and pressed my chest to his. He placed his hands on my hips and pulled them flush against his. The breath was knocked from my lungs when I felt how hard he was through his slacks and my shorts.

I grabbed his wrist and turned away from him before dragging him out of the bar and towards the bathrooms. He didn’t say anything when I pulled him into the women’s bathroom and into a stall. I’ll forever be grateful for that too because I don’t know where else we would go to.

I pulled him into a stall and locked it before pushing him against the door. His lips quickly attached to mine, and before I knew it his teeth grazed across my lower lip. And just like before, when we were out in the bar, his hands fell back to my hips and he pulled me against him. He rolled his hips to mine, pressing his bulge into my body.

“I can’t believe you,” Spencer groaned against my mouth. I looked up at him and smirked. “Why’s that? What makes me so unbelievable?” I whispered as I pressed a hand to his front. Spencer’s body froze and a hiss came from his lips.

“You coming to this bar, dressed like that, acting like you own the place,” his voice was low as he spoke. I smiled before I looked for his belt. “Acting like you aren’t arousing every man-- and woman-- here. That’s right, I saw the way Emily looked at you,” he continued as he looked at me.

“I just wanted attention from someone. But I’m sure happy that it’s your attention that I’m getting, Spencer,” I whispered before I pressed my hips against his.

“Well… I don’t think you’ll be getting attention from anyone else other than mine from now on.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re mine now, Sweetness,” he mildly mocked the pet name Penelope had given me earlier today. I stared at him, my breathing growing shallow. “And no one else’s.” Goosebumps grew like fire across my skin once I realized the honesty and reality of his words. Or, well, I should say his possessiveness. At first I wasn’t sure if I wanted or believed what he said, but a moment passed and I realized… I wanted it so bad.

We both fell into a silent stare down. My hands, however, kept busy as they looked for his belt. But then a smirk grew across my lips the second I realized he still had a hard on waiting for me.

I was quick as I tried undoing his belt buckle, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But he obviously did when I began struggling and fumbling for a moment.

“Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me, Reid?” I whispered as I carefully slipped my hand into his pants and briefs. My question was otherwise rhetorical. I knew for a fact it was a gun. But I also knew it wasn’t a gun.

Spencer took a deep breath of air once my hand was wrapped around his length. I smiled as I slowly moved my hand back and forth, gently applying pressure.

“It’s a gun,” Spencer returned, keeping his voice low, “But I’m more than happy to see you. Trust me.” I could tell he was trying to be sly with his words. Because when he started talking his voice was deep and a little rough, but as he continued on talking, they got a little shaky and a little bit higher. I wanted to mock him, but I knew better than to do that.

“Oh… I do,” I whispered as I quickened my pace. My lips were hovering over his. His breath fanned across my face, and I could just barely smell the gin and tonic he had drank earlier.

My heart was beating hard in my chest because I was about to fuck my co-worker in the bathroom at fucking bar. I wondered if his was doing the same thing. I wondered if his thought process was the same as mine too.

I also wondered if he felt the same way. Maybe I’ve always wanted the attention from Spencer. He was right there, and always has been, and always will be. Plus we’ve known each other for years. So what’s the harm? Maybe he felt the same?

The grip Spencer held on my hips started to tighten as I continued to stroke his length. I could feel his tension growing the longer I went. My lips slowly curled at the corners as I realized how much I was going to enjoy this.

Then it happened. Spencer flipped our positions so I was pressed against the door. Both of my wrists were in one of his hands, held above my head. His other hand was already messing with the button of my shorts.

“You think you’re the only one who can do that, Sweetness,” he whispered before pressing his lips to my neck. It was his turn to grind his hips against mine, easily taking my breath away again.

“Spence…” I gasped once his hand was finally down the front of my shorts. I tried hard to pull my hands from his hand, but his grip only tightened.

“See, two can play at this game,” he spoke softly as he swiped a finger up my slit. I bit my lips together as he gently moved his finger around the sensitive nub between my thighs. “But unlike you I’m going to let you finish.”

“I was go-oh…” I whimpered as my knees buckled down causing my hips to grind on his hand. He smiled before carefully pushing a finger into my entrance. It was suddenly hard to concentrate as he curled his fingers just right.

“That’s what I thought,” Spencer murmured against my ear before moving his mouth to the corner of my mouth, then to my neck. A small moan fell from my mouth as he sucked a spot onto the base of my neck.

I stayed silent as Spencer continued whispering dirty things in my ear. Part of me almost forgot who I was with. Not because of what was happening, but because of what he was saying. I had no clue Spencer could say such dirty things. My train of thought was all over the place, derailing the moment I would gain a coherent thought.

Once I did eventually finish on his fingers, he pulled his hand from my shorts and looked down at me. It was a silent moment of a stare down. I was quiet because I was sure of what was about to happen. I was about to fuck Spencer Reid. I was willing to bet Spencer was calculating how long the events of everything would take. I didn’t care, I just wanted it and I wanted it now.

I broke the stare down, looking down at his slacks and the bulge that was still pressing against the fabric. I silently undid the button and zipper and pushed his pants down.

Spencer stopped me before I could do anything else. I looked up at him, my eyes staying on his face as he pushed down my shorts. Then it happened. I was expecting sex to happen like normal. Half naked.

I furrowed my eyebrows when he started getting ready. My tights were still on me properly. He didn’t forget. Man has the best mind in the world. He wouldn’t forget about my tights.

“Wait,” I whispered as I went to pull my tights off, but Spencer stopped me. His hand wrapped around my wrist before he pulled it away. “I gotta take my tights off if we-Oh…”I looked up at him with wide eyes once I realized what he wanted.

“Keep them on,” he whispered so softly I almost didn’t hear him. I nodded lightly. Truth be told, I could see the appeal in it. I did wear the fishnets for a reason. And I knew how I looked in them.

“I can do that.”

Spencer hoisted one of my legs around his waist and pressed my body against the wall. I stared at him, my arms wrapped around his neck to keep me up right. He also helped keep me up by keeping his hands on my hips. Once I was steady, Spencer ripped a hole in the crotch of my tights.

My teeth bit down on my lower lip as he dragged the head of his cock down my pussy. I almost couldn’t handle the way he teased my entrance. I wondered if he could see how frustrated I was starting to get. He’s a profiler. He should just know already how much I needed this.

“I swear to-” ‘God, Spencer.’ My words were cut off with a moan as he pressed into me all at once. It was hard to keep my head up right, and I fought for a moment before finally dropping it to rest on his shoulder. I brought my hand to my mouth and bit down.

Spencer moved a hand around to rest on my bottom. My mouth fell as his hand began massaging my flesh. That, paired with the way he began moving his hips started becoming too much for me.

He looked down at me, sweat beginning to mat down his hair to his forehead. His eyebrows were furrowed together as he picked up his pace. My leg around his waist pulled him closer to me.

“Don’t stop, please, please don’t stop,” I whined as he finally moved closer to me. My body began moving up and down the door. The cloth of my tank top had started riding up, and my hot skin was instantly touching the cool steel door.

Spencer lifted a hand to my head, placing it on the backside before pulling my face to his. His lips pressed everywhere on my face, not one spot was ignored. I pulled my hands away from his neck and grasped his shirt and tie, keeping him in his spot.

“You could’ve worn anything and I still would have wanted to fuck you. Sweatpants and oversized tee-shirt, that pencil skirt you wore back in Oklahoma… But the fishnets really do take the cake.”

“I-I knew someone would like them.” I tried to keep my voice steady. But it was so hard when pressure began growing in my stomach and between my legs.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this? You here, looking like this,” his voice was almost a growl. My chest began heaving with each word he said and each movement he made. “Too damn long, that’s how long.”

Spencer removed his hand from the back of my head and dropped it to between my legs, resting it high on my thigh. His thumb moved back and forth on my leg, over the material of the fishnets. The look in his eyes drove me wild, and I loved it so, so much.

“Better me than anyone else. I’m not willing to share.” Spencer actually growled as he moved his finger to the crest of my legs. He smiled when I looked up at him with a mildly panicked look in my eyes. “Do you understand why, Sweetness?”

“N-no.”

“As I told you earlier, you’re mine,” he struggled as he tried to hold back a moan.

“Fuck,” I cried as my head dropped back down to his shoulder. I pressed a hand to the wall beside me. I gasped for air as the pressure in my stomach grew to the point of exploding.

“Only I can make you feel like this. You got that, Sweetness?” Spencer groaned, which quickly caused me to nod.

It was impossible to stay quiet as the pressure built up more. The situation was pushed more as soon as Spencer started moaning more into my ear. It was so overwhelming the second he said my name.

And then it happened. I finished before him. But it wasn’t too long after that a familiar warmth spread throughout me.

Spencer dropped his head to my shoulder, and we were both left in panting, breathless messes. My eyes were stuck open as I tried recollecting myself.

“I waited a long time for that too, Spencer,” I whispered, breaking the silence after a few minutes passed. He laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Of course you do.” I shook my head and pushed his body off mine. He looked down at me with a smirk. “What… What does this mean?”

“Could mean anything. We let things happen naturally, or we pretend nothing happened at all. I’d prefer the former, if I’m going to be honest with you.” He gently lifted a hand and rested it on my face. My nose twitched as soon as I felt something rolling down my thigh. Then my eyes widened.

“N-naturally… Yeah,” I whispered, mostly to myself, as I reached for a wad of toilet paper. I quickly cleaned up the mess that was between my legs and shook my head.

“We should go. Get you properly cleaned.” Spencer spoke up once I was done cleaning myself a bit.

“Well now we gotta go out there and pretend like nothing happened,” I whispered as I looked up at him. Spencer shrugged like it was no big deal. “Where did this sudden cockines come from?”

“When I realized you could have any guy in the bar… And you chose me.” He smiled before wrapping an arm around my waist. I widened my eyes as we exited the bathroom and entered the crowd of people together. People stared at us as we walked by, but I couldn’t tell if it was both of us they were staring at or just me. Spencer’s grip around my waist tightened as he pulled me closer to him. “Remember, Sweetness… I don’t like sharing what’s mine,” his voice was low. My body stiffened once the reality of his words hit me. His.

“Where were you guys?” Emily looked between Spencer and I. I looked at her with wide eyes, my expression telling her (and the rest of the team) everything they needed to know. I’m sure I looked like a hot fucking mess.

“Sweetness here was outside not feeling too well. So I brought her to the bathroom and helped her out a little bit,” Spencer lied with a smile.

Even he knew the lie was useless. But I think everyone would rather believe the obvious lie than rather just know the truth. To be fair, I’d rather tell them all a useless lie rather than the truth. “She still doesn’t feel too well. So I’m going to take her home.”

“Oh! Bummer! I hope you feel better!” Penelope was the first to speak up. I was thankful too that she played along because I really couldn’t handle that embarrassment…

“I will.. Hopefully by morning… I’ve got the best doctor I know taking care of me.” I smiled softly as I looked up at Spencer. He glanced back at me with a smile.

“Have a nice rest of the night.” Spencer nodded to the team before guiding me away from the table and towards the front doors.

“My place or yours?” I looked back at him once we were finally outside and walking towards his car.

“Mine.”

if you want to be a part of a taglist (lmk if ur 18+ for smut) or have any comments about this one-shot, let me know here

taglist: @thebluetint @muffin-cup @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @spencersmagic @90spumkin @jareids @broken-stardust

#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds fan fic

433 notes · View notes

honey-harper-official · 3 years

Text

Hey umm so in light of NEVER having scene or read about a character with eczema (or skin problems at all for that matter) I'm going to go over how to write and draw eczema without being rude and making people self conscious about it.

Some general stuff:

This shit is PAINFUL! Like EXTREMELY PAINFUL sometimes

It may look red and swollen

It may look very dry and flaky

On darker skinned people it's not always going to look bright red. It's going to be patches of darker skin with more red undertones

It may look very rough skin and slab covered.

It can cause immense fatigue

It can make mobility hard

It may look bad but feel like nothing

It may look fine but feel painful

We can't stop itching. It's literally painful to not itch. It makes my thrash around if I can't itch

I have spent night being exhausted but unable to sleep bc of eczema and how painful it is

A flare up is caused by literally anything and often times we don't know the cause

It's usually on the back of the knees or the insides of the arms but can appear anywhere. Other popular spots invlude the neck, face, hands, and wrists

It causes hyper pigmentation but it's mostly notice in the summer or after summer since you're tan and the patch goes away, leaving untanned skin and the place where the patch was drained of a bit of color anyways

Nearly everyone who's had it has it on the inside of their arms and has had it there forever. I have hyper pigmentation there however it's in a patchy way. A lot of people have paler inside arms but mine isn't a smooth transition of color.

Hyper pigmentation does happen and it's not always permeant. It can just last until the summer tan is gone or it can take literal months to even years to fade which is what's happening to my arms at the moment

It will come in patches at random places at random times though usually stays forever on places like the inside of arms and legs

If it's on the inside of one arm then it's going to show up on the inside of the other arm. Same goes for the back of the knees however there might be one side that's typically worse then the other. It can switch back and forth but unless you're on medication one side will be noticslly worse then the other though both will not be looking good

It can stay one place for a few years and go away but then show up in a new place and stay there for years.

Medication and shots are a thing that we use

Steroid creams and prescription lotion are also things we use

No one is using scented bath and body works lotion. Scented stuff irritates it and makes it burn. Take your Bath and Body Works and leave.

I'm not just going to pick up any lotion or cream at the store either. I'm doing careful research on what will work best, finding what works best for me, and sticking with it

A lot of things will make it burn such as lotions, perfumes, and even water

A lot of people wear jackets and hoddies to cover it up

I also wear a special hoodie for flare ups bc the material feels nicest and I don't want to ruin my other clothes with all the lotions and stuff

Certain materials are itchy and irritating. (Looking at you wool I hate your guts) while others are soothing and comfortable (cotton and silk and bamboo fabric are life savors)

Random and obscure allergies that cause it to flare up

When a patch clears up and goes from rough to soft I will continue to touch it bc I'm excited and I forgot what it feels like to have my skin like that. I once had it on my eyelids and cheeks and once it cleared up I cried and wouldn't stop touching my face bc it didn't hurt to make facial expressions and it felt so nice to have my skin back

Speaking of which it can and will show up on your eyelids and make them swell up

It can get into your brows and you'll lose hair in your brows bc of it

I don't know one person with eczema who hasn't felt self conscious about it or try to hide it even if it's nothing to be ashamed for

Doctors will take one look at people with eczema (especially those who aren't skinny white boys) and pass it off as a rash. Dermatologists do this and actually allergists have been more helpful with clearing up my skin in my personal experience

You will get super greasy hair from all the lotion. If it's on the neck or face your hair will catch in the lotion and make it greasy. It doesn't help that it can be painful to shower and stuff with eczema

Baths >>>> showers. Especially since there's a lot of stuff people will soak in to help. Salt baths and bleach baths are a thing to help kill bacteria and things like putting in mint leaves and that sort of stuff help cool and soothe it

Ironically most of the lotions I've been given I ended up being allergic to. This is something some other people I know experienced. Lavender is supposed to help but it just makes things worse for a lot of people I know ironically believe it or not

Also it's an AUTO IMMUNE DISEASE! It's going to weaken the immune system and make it easier to get sick. The real kicker is when you get sick you get more prone to infections and your skin will get infected and it's a downward and very painful spiral

Writing:

Have your character have a flare up. Have their skin go from fine to red and itchy and dry and maybe a little bloody

Scabs. We've got them. I have scars from scratching at scabs from eczema bc they're itchy. Your character most likely will too and probably did so as a child as well bc it's a scab vs a kid

Have them go to bed early bc theyre tired

It makes sense for them to go to doctors appointments specifically for their eczema and to have it done often. Look into things like having your characters go to get shots often or doing light therapy

Have them feel under the weather bc of it. Make them take a benadryl and clock out in a blanket with a material they like

Silk pillowcases are great for skin. So are bamboo materials. I know a lot of people who've invested in these including myself to make sleeping and drying off more comfortable. Chances are your character and their family have invested in them too and a lot of household materials will be like that or they will have their own special towels and bed sheets that need to be washed separately from everyone else and need to be washed at the right time so your character has towels and bed sheets

Give them allergies. They're probably allergic to something that causes it and usually it's some chemical like fragrance jn perfume or over processed foods too. A lot cleaning supplies make me flare up and dust is a big one too. Lavender and chamomile are ones which is very ironic based on how people tell us to use those to help

Coconut oil and stuff like she's butter. I guarantee you that your character has or will use it at some point to help with eczema. They're honestly life savers

Have them keep a jacket and some prescribed lotion with them. At night have them put on a bunch of different lotions and skin care stuff and probably even gloves or socks over their hands to help lock in moisture. However they will also probably rub these things against their skin to scratch

Write a character with clear looking skin but hyper pigmentation and taking shots to keep a flare up at bay. Dupixent is a shot a lot of people are using and it works wonders

Gloves when sleeping. Put on lotion and then gloves and have them go to bed and then be frustrated when they can't swipe on their phone.

It's okay to have them feel gross about it just don't make it happen often. After I put on all my lotions I feel super greasy and gross because of it

Have other characters hype them up despite their eczema. It's not a bad thing. It doesn't make us ugly. Stop acting like non perfect skin is a terrible thing. When I'm down or upset about it my friends will hype me up about it

However while I can go out without hiding my eczema and still feel good about it that doesn't mean that myself or any character you're writing with it won't wish that their skin wasn't clear. More so bc it hurts and is uncomfortable then anything.

Clothes made from cotton and silk and that stuff are good for every day clothes but also fancy stuff if need be

Speaking of clothes do not put them in a wool sweater that shit sucks and so do a lot of mixed fibers. There's special clothes that are made without seams or with special materials for people who have textural issues and I have gotten stuff from those places. Always keep a few long sleeves in my closet for my worst days and have a long sleeve from my favorite brand in nearly every color and pattern. Your character will probably do the same the second they find a piece of clothing that feels good on their skin. However eventually all the lotions will make the insides knit and the clothing will be stained darker if you use them for flare ups after putting in lotion

My mom has come home and dropped a pile of new shirts on my bed because they were from the brand that makes clothes that are safe for my skin and she got them in every color or style. Your character will have parents that will do the same. I don't know if it's a universal eczema experience but if your character has parents who are really concerned about it and arw very involved and caring then it makes sense for something like that to happen

Designated flare up shirts are a thing. I will put it on and wear it to bed or to school or anywhere

Give them a designated flare up shirt that they where for a while in a flare up. However also give them a hoodie they like bc trust me they're gonna wear a specific hoodie when there's a flare up

If you're going to have a random character point it out or ask questions, it's completely logical for your character to be annoyed about it. I know other people are just curious but when a bunch of people bombard you for something you would obviously know is there it's very tiring

Have them change clothes when they get home. It helps and I do it and so do other people. Don't want to being things from the outside into the household.

They aren't going to put on perfume for a fancy evening and chances are their friends won't either because that stuff irritates it so much even if we aren't the ones wearing it

It's okay to say that the skin was red and patchy. It's okay to say it cleared up

Don't say that the character looks like they have spots or scales or looks like a tomato or stuff like that. It's really rude and the amount of times I've been made fun of and told I have lizard skin is horrifying

It can look anything from a little bit of red and pink to being full on scabs and blood and puss all over ones arm or body part.

Let them itch and then have someone tell them stop itching. It's annoying but realistic. Points if your character immediately stops but tries to find some way to still itch or glares at the other person or says some remark back. Their parents are going to be the number one people to tell them to stop itching

Eczema is uncomfortable. Have them be uncomfortable sometimes because of it

You don't have to make the whole story about it but include little things like them itching or before bed putting on a bunch of lotion. Have them have a favorite outfit bc it feels best on their skin

Use words like: red, patchy, dry, burning, itchy, stiff, and swollen

Avoid things like: spots (for hyper pigmentation), any animal like description, comparison jokes to things like "oh they're as red as that sweater". Stop comparing our skin to objects and animals. It's not funny. This may be a personal thing but it's a huge let peeve if mine and one of the reasons I've always been self conscious about it

Please don't have people make rude comments about it or have random people ask a lot of questions I'm seriously begging you. If you do at least have then give some sort of come back or have the other character asking questions approach it in a more polite and sympathetic way. It's so annoying how many times people will walk up to me and point at my eczema and go "what happened to you?" Or even worse there have been people who think they're going to catch some disease from me. I've dropped my pencil and the person by it kicked it over to me instead of handing it to me bc they took one look at my skin and made a disgusted face. So as realistic as it is so have those things I'm really fucking annoyed by those types of comments and don't want them in my books unless there's a good comeback please and thank you

People are very mean about it and it's the source for the self consciousness so do your best to avoid that bc while I get the person saying it is going to be framed as mean or rude it's still :/

Drawing:

put down your base skin tone

Pick a red tone off of the base

Pick a lighter tone of of the base

Do the same with your shadow and highlight colors

Now you have your skin tone color palette

Draw on white patches and red patches to the proper base tones you used

Don't blend them out. They're distinctive

Just put them on the inside of arms or on fingers and face and neck and legs and wrists at random in blots of all shapes and sizes

Don't draw it as a pattern

Don't use a splatter brush

Feel free to draw on scabs and dark spots here and there

You don't need to draw it like scales or show how dry and flaky it can be if you're a really realistic or more detailed with your art style

Use references

Boom. Done.

It's literally just dry and red skin. We've all had that before. The only difference is it's wide spread. If you can draw skin then you can draw eczema on it

It's not hard.

As always do research! Ask questions! Just be nice and have fun with it! Eczema isn't a big deal but I can't tell you how much it would mean to me to see a character with eczema!

#writing resource #writing reference #eczema #writing eczema #drawing #drawing resource #drawing eczema

797 notes · View notes

shotosprincess · 3 years

Note

BAKUGO SCREAMING AND IZUKU

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ AAAA HIII TYSM FOR REPLYING TO THE BNHA PLAYLIST THINGY FOR FICS I LOVE YOU MWAHMWAH

anyways aaa bet !! ill do midoriya first if you don’t mind bc im currently in such a soft mood and hajdjj i just love him sm :((

— 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙯��𝙠𝙪 𝙢𝙞𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙮𝙖’𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨

inspired by this playlist by nimbus on yt !! pls check them out ansjdjf their playlists r heaven ^^

❝ you never truly understood that about him, the way he continued to put himself through the pain, to push himself, even, past his limits and then some—

plus ultra. and now his arms were all but littered with rough scars of diluted white and blunt tan. ❞

notes ! gender neutral! reader,, best friends to lovers au ,, 2nd person pov

summary: in which your best friend deku shows up at your dorm late at night due to kacchan locking him out. he asks for bandages to stabilize his newly-healed scars, and you ask to kiss them.

genre: fluff !! <33

it went without a doubt that deku had been to recovery girls’ office more times than anyone else at the academy. it hurt, honestly; each time you saw his still-healing figure emerge from the little swing of her door, a sharp pang reverberated starkly through your chest, for though the freshly-scarred over wounds didn’t diminish his beauty in the slightest, you simply couldn’t deny that an empty eddy of sadness settled in you whenever he was in such a state.

and unfortunately for you, he was constantly in it.

his body could only take so much. and he was still so young too—the very same held true for your heart.

it’s been that way ever since the two of you had first entered ua as shining, eager students. though in all fairness you had to admit, he was...different from the very beginning. even as the prelude to his eventual rising and growth in his quirk, he had shone with a certain unmatched brilliance ever since the entrance exams. and over the years you spent together, you had watched him persevere so passionately towards the glow of his ultimate goal; to be a hero who can help others. little did he know just how much he already had. he had always been so excruciatingly oblivious and aloof to even the evidence and affects of his own kindness, and you hated the fact that so many tended to take advantage of it. of him.

though, of course, this did not mean that he was weak in any form. no, if anything he was quite the polar opposite—he had proved it time and time again, and yet it didn’t mean that he couldn’t get hurt too. the dull aching of tiredness ringing in his eyes, the one he tries to desperately to mask, the ragged marks scattered across the pale valleys of his once-scar-barren skin; he wasn’t immune to pain, to injury. and yet, he fought. you never truly understood that about him, the way he continued to put himself through the pain, to push himself, even, past his limits and then some—

plus ultra. and now his arms were all but littered with rough scars of diluted white and blunt tan.

nevertheless, truth be told, you actually admired it a great deal. his sheer determination, the purity of his motives, it was more than laudable. despite all of it, you truly couldn’t help but feel this...magnetic urge to help him. protect him. if you could soothe the pain in any way, even if it would be but a temporary relief—

three knocks clack on the door.

you and izuku’s secret door code—just a silly little something the two of you made up a few months after the dorm system had been put into motion, and all so you could sneak out to the grass-flooded yards of the building and train together.

naturally, you open the door.

“ heyyy there you are! “

your head perks up at the cheery jingling of his voice, all drafts of exhaustion and sleep deprivation washing away almost instantaneously. he might as well be the very personification of caffeine at that point, despite how direly he needed it himself.

the starry shine of his eyes meets with yours as a diluted sanguine seeped colour into his face. he turns his head away awkwardly.

you lean against the doorframe, smiling at him. “ deku...you didn’t tell me we’d be training today. plus it’s a little late right now, don’t you think? i’m already in my pajamas. “

“ yeah, um, sorry about that. kacchan...kinda locked me out. “

“ he what? “

“ he locked me out. “

“ how does that even—don’t you have separate rooms? “

“ well, yeah, but we were racing down the halls after glass today and he...got to my room before i could. well, honestly i have no clue what he’s doing over there. “ he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“ oookay then. little concerning, i won’t lie. “ your shoulders lift in a shrug, arms crossing in front of your chest as your shy laugh matches his.

“ so i was wondering if...you know...i could maybe stay here for a bit? “ his voice wavers subtly, though you’re quick to catch it. the tips of his ears flush with a deepened pink.

you can’t help but silently gush about how cute he looked.

you’re quick to snap out of that too. eyes bursting open with a brilliant shock, you notice he’s fiddling nervously with his fingers as you remain absolutely, positively frozen in place.

“ i’m—what? “

his countenance immediately shifts to one of sheer embarrassment. flustered, he begins to frantically wave his hands in front of him, as if to put some sort of considerable distance between his panicking self and your seemingly-composed demeanour. and as if that would do anything to deescalate the tension which was only progressively building between your equally-timid selves at this moment.

“ ohmygod i didn’t mean it in a weird way or anything! i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’ll just—i’ll just go— “

you slide against the wood a little bit, pushing your weight against the slightly-agape door, so it swung open even further to reveal the, admittedly, fairly-messy state of your room. draped carelessly on the side of your bed, a sweater you had taken off earlier because the temperature of your room had suddenly decided to heat up an unreasonable amount. countable cups holding shallow pools of hour-old drinks scattered throughout nearly every shelf. a creased textbook splayed out, cover up on your desk.

yep. definitely looked like someone’s lived here.

“ i mean...you could come in if you want. no one’s stopping you. it’s a little messy though, i haven’t found much time to properly clean it yet, with exams coming soon and stuff. “ a small smile accompanies your growing blush, despite how much you were trying to play it off as nonchalantly as possible.

psh, right. as if letting him in your room—something you had never done prior in the history of your friendship—wasn’t a big deal in the slightest.

his eyes shoot wide as his arms flail about. you have to keep yourself from laughing at his silliness.

“ uhm, i mean...only if that’s okay with you! “

“ yeah, yeah, of course! you need a place to stay for now, after all. who knows when bakugou’s gonna let you back in? “

“ yeah, i guess you’re right. well, i mean, if you really don’t mind— “

you playfully roll your eyes, giggling as you shove him into your room.

“ oh, quit it with the politeness. you’re too nice, you know that? “

“ too...nice? “

“ too nice. “ you reiterate, giving his shoulders a little squeeze.

his head lolls to the side as he carefully lowers himself onto your bed, his sweater shifting with the subtle movement.

for a few moments, the space between you is occupied with a simple, comfortable silence. it’s refreshing, really. a welcome difference from all the boisterousness of the academy. you loved the action and everyone’s energy, of course, but sometimes what you really needed was really just a simple break from everything. to do nothing but exist for a little while, to simply be without the constant pressure of having to get up and jump into action all the time. just for a few moments. and so you relished in these said moments spent with him, for who knows when the next time you could ever be with him like this again would be?

and then his voice fills that void of silence, but you’re not disappointed in the slightest.

“ hey. “

“ yeah? “

“ you don’t happen to have any extra bandages, do you? “

“ bandages? for what? “

he clenches his fist, flexing the muscles in his arm. “ for...stability. just in case. i can’t afford for my arms to get hurt more. “

“ oh. well, uhm...i think i have a few spares in my drawer! “ you push yourself off the bed, leaving the comfort the soft sheets brought about, pulling open a tiny drawer. taking out a transparent box of bandages, you jump back onto the plushness, sitting cross-legged directly across from midoriya, who’s already presenting his arm.

your lips silently part as your fingers wrap themselves around the thick ivory fabrics of bandage, rolling them around so you could wrap them around him.

another pause of wordless silence falls.

“ hey deku? “

“ yeah? “

“ could i...could i kiss your scars? “ you whisper, afraid that he’d get mad, though you knew he was anything but the type to do such a thing.

the meadow depths of his eyes kindle a cozy hearth within you as his initial surprise quickly softens, melting away into what could only be described as the most endearing smile to exist.

“ sure. “

jagged patches and uneven streaks of faded cloud white and prominent earthy tans decorate his arms, and you can’t help but bring the rosiness of your lips to meet them. you decide begin with the ones littered along his fingers.

one kiss for the scar resting within the curved dip between his thumb and index.

“ for every time you used just a flick of your fingers to defend everyone back then, when you didn’t even have full control over your quirk. “

a longing sigh leaves him as he reminisces briefly on the memory. you place a soft kiss upon the scar resting at the side of his pinky.

“ for every fist you made with this hand, for every punch you’ve delivered in the name of other’s safety. “

a drop splashed onto his arm, trickling down and tainting the scars etched into his forearm with a subtle, diaphanous sheen. you look up through your lashes, and a prominent gloss coats the kindness of his dark emeralds. your hand comes up to carefully caress his cheek, cupping it gently as the pad of your thumb swipes beneath his eye, wiping away the upcoming tear. your features are knitted together in concern.

“ are you okay? i can stop if you want me to— “

he takes your hand in both of his, squeezing as if to keep you there forever. “ no, don’t. please.“

it’s a tiny whisper, a softened plea into the dark quiet of the night, as if he were ashamed for wanting to be taken care of. your brows curve downward as you pull your twined hands to your lips, tenderly planting your lips where your skin kissed his.

“ hey, hey. it’s okay. it’s okay. “ you hush him, running your free hand through his thick tendrils of vivid, verdant green.

he leans into your touch, nodding at you as if to urge you to continue, which you gladly accept.

you shift a little closer to him, kissing the thick mark of serration painted into the skin of his wrist.

“ for every countless moment you’ve sacrificed for your dream. “

another kiss to the one just above it.

“ for every hour bled into the night that you spent helping me train. “

your fingers dance along his arm, finally stopping at the scar stretching from his elbow and dragging upwards. as per routine, your lips come down to delicately kiss it.

“ for every ‘ plus ultra! ‘ you’ve ever passionately shouted. “

little giggles left the both of you at that.

your touch trails to the scar just beside it, kissing it as well.

“ for every life you’ve ever saved. “

you look him in the eye. holding his arm like this, you were so close to him. and yet, you didn’t want to pull away. if anything, it was the very last thing you would ever want to do. he matched your stare, a certain sense of longing displaying in your gaze as it reflects off of his. the prolonged stare lasts longer than it probably should, longer than what best friends should probably look at each other this closely, this intimately for. the moonlight dimly shines through your window.

and then it happens.

his lips collide with yours in a captivating symphony, hands going straight to twirl through the locks of your hair as you wrap yours in a loose loop around his neck. everything feels as though it had all snapped into place, and the tension you had felt before was all completely dissipated now, displaced into the passion in which this kiss exuded. it was earth-shattering, galaxy-shredding. it felt as if even pain itself could never reach either of you, not in this moment.

this moment was for the both of you, and no one else. in this moment, in his arms, nothing and no one could hurt you.

he pulls away, stunned, lips parted with a saturated red. you stare at him with just about the same level of blankness, of utter shock at what you two had just done.

but then the realization catches up with him, and he is pulled out of the daze. much to your surprise, he doesn’t move away. if anything, he pulls you closer, enveloping both your hands within his just as he did before.

and just as you had done earlier, he brings them to his lips.

“ and that’s for every ‘ i love you ‘ i’ve ever wanted to say to you but never had the guts to. “

249 notes · View notes