#KICKING MY FUCKING FEET
Note
I’m so glad you liked the jokes!
(I though they were hilarious because my sense of humor is nothing if not bad dad jokes, puns, and sarcasm. But I can’t even take credit for them because I found them online haha)
For the blurb idk if you intended for me to ask for something specific or not but I kinda just want to see what you’ll come up with if that’s okay? I feel like any idea you had would be better than mine anyway lol. Up to you really on whether or not you already have ideas or need some help. ♥️
the jokes were so so good i loved them truly. my sense of humor is the exact same way. and oh bless your soul for letting my mind run wild. i present to you all an idea that literally sent me feral, in which you've got some new perfumes and eddie is a blind idiot.
warnings: fem!reader, reader is very vaguely described as having hair that is at least shoulder length as well as buying items such as bras perfumes and chapsticks, hints at sexual themes but no actual smut, neck kissing and just good old fashioned kissing happens, eddie is kind of a perv? a little bit? also, not edited (what's new?) minors dni.
wc: 4.1k+ (i got a little carried away)
“Smell this.”
The demand is paired with a sudden wrist in Eddie’s face that nearly has him falling off the bed.
“Excuse me?”
You and Eddie had been best friends for a while now. Since that first week of freshman year. Eddie, in all his awkward glory, had leaned up from his seat behind you in Mrs. Damon’s first hour English class, stabbed you right in the shoulder blade with a dully sharpened pencil just to inform you that he liked your shirt. You, in all your teacher’s pet façade, had only shushed him harshly and glared before turning back around. But some time between the ice breakers and the saving grace of the first bell of what would be a long high school career, you’d decided you would address him before you’d scurried out of that classroom and thank him. But not before you’d informed him that you didn’t even know the band displayed, had just thrifted the shirt for looking cool, and had unknowingly sent Eddie on a mission to educate you in the glory of his favorite band.
And nearly six years later, he was still on that mission. You were stubborn and had sworn loyalty to Fleetwood Mac before Eddie and Metallica had ever even stood a chance.
He doesn’t mind. He’d listen to the Rumors album on repeat for the rest of his days if it meant he always ended up in this position at the end of the day — in his room, on his bed, lounging with you to pass the time.
Your wrist is still held up dangerously close to Eddie’s face in the present day, a look of determination and contemplation overtaking you, “Smell. My. Wrist.”
Six years is a long time to grow comfortable with someone. And, in Eddie’s case, fall in love with your best friend.
“I’m not smelling your wrist, weirdo,” he mumbles as he swats your hand away, squinting at the way you were perched on your knees as they sunk into his mattress. He had been halfway to a much needed nap before you had lost interest in whatever magazine you’d been reading, “Why do you even need me to? What didja do to it?”
His words are still half slurring from fatigue. If he cuts off your pestering strategically enough, he might still achieve that nap his heavy bones so desperately yearned for.
You readjust yourself, flopping down to sit beside Eddie with your legs stretched out as he lifts himself up. Shoulder to shoulder, calf along calf, the two of you prop your backs against his warm bedroom wall, “I went to Starcourt yesterday with Nancy and bought some new perfumes-“
“Perfumes?” he wrinkles his nose, “Plural?”
He would have sworn he’d have noticed a new perfume, but these days, he’d been trying to put some restraint on his pathetic crush. Tried to tame the yearning inside of him, which meant less indulging in things like sniffing the air like a freakish dog whenever you entered a room just to drink in the smell of you that had brought him so much comfort over the years. Less letting his eyes linger on the straps of the bras you’d started wearing more of since you’d begun to hang out more with the likes of Nancy Wheeler, who had been single-handedly teaching you how to be a girl in a way Eddie had never witnessed from you.
You’d wasted most of your critical youth surrounded by boys, by Eddie. Go figure that Wheeler was jumping at the opportunity to mold a blank canvas.
“Yes, I bought perfumes, plural, as in multiple- oh, don’t give me that look, Munson,” you scowl when he makes a face, wrinkles forming adorably between your brows. (Brows he was pretty sure Nancy had plucked for you last weekend, but again — Eddie wasn’t supposed to notice those things anymore. Tampering the crush, or whatever idiotic goal he had set for himself.), “They were on a BOGO sale. Bite me. Anyways, I got these new perfumes, and one of the ladies was telling me and Nance how you should layer your scents. Which, God, doesn’t that sound ridiculous?”
Eddie hums, eyebrows raised skeptically at where this rambling was going.
“So I bought these scents that she said might pair well together. But then, she was talking about body chemistry and-“ you cut yourself off, clearly realizing how boring this topic might be to someone like Eddie who hadn’t even picked out his own drugstore cologne (you had), “Listen, just… just stop questioning it and smell my wrist.”
Once again, you hold your arm out in front of Eddie’s now softening face. He’s holding his breath, which he hopes you don’t notice, as he weighs his options.
Smell your wrist, probably subjecting himself to a terrible sort of pain when he realizes he'd much rather be placing feathery kisses there before moving onto your knuckles as he holds your hand. Or deny you, possibly hurt your feelings or offend you as he brushes this off as another girly thing he wanted nothing to do with.
The fleeting image of your face if he were to reject you in this moment is enough to make his choice for him.
He never could say no to you.
“What am I even supposed to be smelling it for?” he grumbles as he reaches out and grabs your forearm, opting that safer territory than your hand as he guided your skin closer to him, “Like, I’m not a scents expert, sweet-“
Oh.
Eddie’s brain short circuits as the tip of his nose brushes your soft skin. The pet name dies on his tongue, the inhale through his nose cutting off just as suddenly.
Oh, God. Oh, fuck.
He already knows he's a sucker for you, a dog with a bone when it comes to your presence and attention. He already relished in your old perfume's scent and the way it would cling to a room, lingering on his sheets when you’d sleep over after a movie night gone too late. When you’d borrow his Hellfire shirt and return it without washing it, leaving the collar tainted with sweetness and enough undertones of vanilla to make a chasm within him yearn terribly.
But this new perfume, perfumes technically, were something different. They weren’t the same as the body spray you’d been using every day since freshman year. They were deeper, more complicated, more womanly than he had prepared himself for.
“Does it… does it smell good?” you meekly ask him, suddenly going shy at his frozen state, “Like, is it working with my… my own smell? Sometimes perfumes smell good on their own but don’t work with your body’s chemistry, that’s what the lady had been explaining to me and Nan-“
“It’s working.”
It’s all he can manage to choke out as he lets go of your arm so that it falls away and takes the sweet smells with it.
God, it was working.
Eddie felt more embarrassed than he had that first month of puberty, when he was just discovering girls and noticing the stretch of t-shirts over chests. He felt even more affected than the first time he’d let his eyes wander over the back of Cheryl T’s thighs the last day of eighth grade, and discovered the wonders of an ass’ curve.
All his blood would not be rushing south. No. Absolutely not. He wouldn’t allow it, not when he was fully grown and should have some self-control, and certainly not when he was wearing his thinnest pair of boxers with grey fucking sweatpants.
Your eyes are wide with innocence, or at least what he hopes is innocence, “Really? It smells good?”
He has to clear his throat before he can properly reply, “‘s good, yeah. It, uh, yeah. Smells good.”
Think of naked grandmas. Think of kicked puppies. Think of literally anything except her soft ski-
“Awesome!” you’re suddenly sitting crisscross beside him, facing him fully, “Okay, that’s- awesome. Cool. Cool, cool, cool,” were you just as flustered as he was? Was he reading this wrong? “The lady actually told us - okay, I know it’s stupid and boring so bear with me - but she told us to put them on all our pulse points. So that way, it… uh… it makes the perfume last longer.”
He can’t get the smell out of his nose. Something so sweet, something so enticing, something so… you. The perfumes were fancy, but somehow, they were you. Smells of summer and spring and tooth-aching sweetness that was driving Eddie mad.
He’ll never be able to let you sleep in his bed again. He doesn’t want to consider what shameful, hormone-fueled decisions he would make if he had to experience his pillow smelling like that even when you were long gone.
Get it together, Munson.
“Makes sense,” he lies, still struggling to get his tongue to function properly. All he’s thinking about is trailing it over that sweet spot on your wrist now, lips sucking on every inch of skin you currently had exposed- Naked grandmas. Kicked puppies, “Is that all you needed? Can I take a nap now?”
Hell, he’s torn between wanting you to stay and ushering you out of his trailer so he can have a few moments alone. Weighing the risks of escaping to the bathroom for a few minutes too long just to get his problem under control.
He’s twenty, not fifteen. A girl’s perfume should not be affecting him this way.
Your face falls ever so slightly, “Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry. Like I said, I know it’s boring-“
“It’s not boring,” he interrupts, realizing that he’s mere seconds away from genuinely hurting your feelings. Or perhaps he’s already there, having been a complete idiot. He still remembers your face the day he’d contained his reaction to your new bra — how he’d gone into autopilot and snapped the strap like some little boy on the playground just to play off how flustered it made him. You hadn’t admitted it to him, but his reaction had hurt you. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, “The whole science behind it — it sounds pretty cool, honestly.”
Nothing that made you so excited, so giddy, could ever be boring to him. He loved seeing you buzz with your emotions and expectancy. He just didn’t love the way his heart and mind seemed to run with every single, little, goddamn bone you tossed him.
You were his best friend. He shouldn’t think of you like that. He couldn’t.
“It is,” you light back up in the slightest, saucer eyes boring into his again. Not quite as animated as before, but not quite as deflated as you had been heading, “Actually- Can I ask another favor?”
Anything.
“Sure, sweetheart,” his heart had finally slowed its pace, the reigns back in his control as the perfume lingered in the air but didn’t overwhelm him, “What’s up?”
“So… the wrists aren’t the only pulse points you’re supposed to wear perfume on.”
Oh, God. Where were you going with this?
“No?” he tries to tease, tries to smile at you. It’s fruitless — his heart has begun to pound again, “I sure hope it wouldn’t be. I mean, blood kind of rushes everywhere, isn’t that the point-“
“The neck,” you blurt out, making the rest of Eddie’s sentence disappear into the air, “The, uh, the neck is the other place. Well, not just the neck, it’s…” you trail off, twiddling with your thumbs for a second before you lift a hand to gather away any stray hairs from curtaining the side of your neck. You even go so far as to secure the hand behind your ear, “Behind the ears. You’re supposed to spray it behind your ears, too.”
“Okay…” he enunciates slowly, resisting the urge to bite his lip as he starts to catch up with where you’re going with this, and desperately hoping that he’s wrong.
“Can you… Would you…” you pause and take a deep breath, eyes shutting for a second. When you open the back up, a new wave of determination is set around your pupils, “Eddie, can you smell my neck?”
What sort of sick, twisted, wet dream am I living in right now?
Eddie is suddenly convinced you never interrupted his attempt at a nap. He’s asleep right now, soundly curled into himself, and you’re still lounging casually with your magazine on the other side of his bed. That must be it, because there’s no way you’re actually offering him to press himself so closely into your vicinity as he’s only ever dreamed of.
“What?” he weakly questions.
If this is a dream, dear God, don’t let me wake up.
“Can you smell my neck?” you repeat yourself with a little more confidence before pulling your best puppy dog eyes, “I just- I want to make sure it smells good. Everywhere.”
Damn Nancy Wheeler for whatever journey of self-discovery she’d sent you on. Damn her, and damn the perfume lady, and damn Eddie for reaping such benefits.
He should say no. He should really, really say no.
He’s wearing goddamn grey sweatpants, he should say no.
“S-Sure.”
Famous last words.
Your hair has already been moved, making it easier for Eddie when he leans forward at his waist. You lean in as well, jutting out your chin and angling your neck for his taking.
It’s such a bad idea.
The tip of his nose is bumping your skin again as his eyes flutter shut. He’s trying so hard to contain himself, to not make a fool of himself. But when he feels that softness again, when he’s being unraveled by warm notes of vanilla and patchouli, deep breaths of apple blossom of blackberry – he just breaks.
He doesn’t realize that his lips have joined his nose in brushing up against your sweet spot until he hears you let out a shaky gasp, one that almost resembles a whine.
His reaction should be to pull back. He should remove himself, apologize for going too far, stop before he’s fallen off the cliff himself. He doesn’t.
Instead, he takes a moment of stillness as his head reels, overcome in the smell of your new perfume again and ears straining relentlessly to seek out another one of those pretty sounds.
He wants to hear it again. He needs to know if it was a moan or a gasp, or nothing more than a ticklish breath.
His lips pucker with intention this time. His nose trails up behind your ear, taking in the full bodied scent of the perfume on the skin as he places another chaste kiss against your pulse.
It’s racing. Your heartbeat is goddamn racing.
The moment his lips connect, another gasp sounds. A sharp intake of breath that whistles so sweetly to his ears before you’re exhaling with a proper, albeit quiet, whimper.
No amount of naked grandmas or kicked puppies can save him now. He’s a goner – he’s been a goner – and he leaps off that cliff full force now as he leans back and out of your space.
Your eyes are shut. Eyelashes fluttering prettily, just barely brushing the skin beneath your eyes.
He almost whispers out a gentle sweetheart as he stays close enough for you to feel his breath on that very same cheek, but when your eyes finally do open to meet his, he can’t get a single word out before his body moves to its own accord.
His lips press to yours before he can overthink it.
He waits for the inevitable – for you to freeze up against him, for you to shove him off, for you to curse him out. He shouldn’t have done that. He should’ve asked for permission, he should have had more self-control.
But you don’t. Instead, you take him by surprise and you kiss him back.
Instantly, without an inch of hesitation, your lips work in tangent with his. Parting and welcoming him as if they had been waiting for this moment longer than he could comprehend. Pressing back with just as much, if not more fervency as his do. You match his desperation every step of the way until you’ve both exhausted all the breath inside your lungs. He has no choice but to pull back, to part from you and gulp in oxygen before he makes any more bad decisions.
Lord know he’s full of them when he’s suddenly gazing into your glossy eyes.
“I’m sorry-” he immediately rushes out to apologize, but a sharp shake of your head halts him.
“Don’t be,” you whisper, “I… Do it again.”
“What?”
“Kiss me again. Please.”
Eddie isn’t in the business of making you beg; he never really can say no to you.
He kisses you again. And again. And again. A collage of pecks and soft slipping, tasting your chapstick and somehow moving the two of you so that he’s back to his original position with his back against the wall, and you now straddling his lap. You hover, completely unaware of how much you’re affecting him. When you let his tongue slip into your mouth without any bartering, he ends up letting out a moan that slips right down your throat. His hands are still so hesitant, but when you reach down and encourage his palms to engulf wherever they please, he’s on a mission of exploration. Soft caresses to your thighs, from the ditch of your bent knees to the skin hardly hidden beneath the hem of your lounge shorts. They wind their way up the pathways of your hips, squeezing at the soft give of the flesh there before he continues upwards. Up, up, up – until they find home in the curve of your waist, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you impossibly close.
That damn perfume doesn’t just linger, not anymore. With you pressed against him, with the way he’s wound so tightly around you, it drowns him. Vanilla, coffee, blackberry, apple blossoms. A multitude of scents he’s sure his plain nose can’t even pick up on, and that he doesn’t really care to name. All he cares about is the smell of you. Something new and something fancy, but so very you.
“I-” you break from the kiss, “Can’t-” you smack another one on him, beginning to take initiative, “Believe-” the next one misses his mouth, hardly landing against the upturned corner, “It took-” your final kiss lands on his dimple before you pull back fully and cup his hands within your palms, still hovering and straddling his waist, “A stupid fucking perfume ruse to get you to kiss me.”
He’s lovedrunk, all slow blinks and dumb-founded smile as he looks up at you, hardly processing the words, “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” you squeeze his cheeks a little tighter in your touch, “I can’t believe I had to pull that whole stupid act of fluttering my lashes and oh, Eddie, can you smell my perfume for me? To make sure it smells good? To finally get you to just do something.”
His head clears a little as the ghost of your kiss still buzzes on his lips, “Wait- what?”
Your palms slide away, scratching at what scruff has gathered across his jaw line before your hands fully fall away, “You made me act like a damn fool, Eddie Munson.”
“It was all just an act?”
“I can’t believe you were so oblivious.”
“You only made me do that so I’d kiss you?”
“That,” you shrug, curling your hands into fists and gingerly placing them on his chest as his arms untangle from you slightly, only his knuckles resting on your waist now, “And the bra thing. And the whole thing when I bought all those chapsticks and couldn’t pick a favorite flavor.”
“They all tasted good,” he says, confused as he peers up at your faux annoyance, “I even tried them on for you-”
“I didn’t want you to try them on,” you whine, letting a few breathy laughs slip as you sit back, resting your weight entirely on his thighs and narrowly missing his boner you surely hadn’t noticed yet, “I wanted you to taste them off of me. I wanted you to make me put each one on, and kiss me stupid before you’d demand that I move onto the next one. I wanted to be the one to get your lips all sticky, not the fucking chapstick tubes themselves.”
“You-” Eddie’s mouth drops wide open, nearly wider than his eyes, “Hold on, you only brought that up so I’d fucking kiss you?”
You nod as if it had been obvious, grinning wildly now, “God, you’re dense, Munson. I kept telling Nancy you’d figure it out eventually-”
“What does Nancy have to do with this?”
“Nancy has been trying to help me concoct ways to get you to grow the balls and kiss me for months now. Although, to be fair, the bra thing had been Steve’s idea.”
“Harrington?” Eddie gasps out in disbelief as you only throw your head back in laughter. It’s a beautiful sound, one that makes Eddie’s heart race even more painfully than the perfume had, “You went to Harrington for advice about me?”
When you lift your head back up to look at him, you’re all soft smiles and delighted eyes as you quietly admit, “I was getting kind of desperate here.”
His chest heaves, finger unfurling from around your waist.
“I was starting to think maybe you just didn’t like me bac-”
Without warning, Eddie’s hands are gripping your hips and he’s flipping positions, pinning you beneath him. He can’t wrap his head around it. You’d been wanting him to kiss you all this time. And he’d been a blind idiot. Snapping your bra straps, stealing away chapsticks and applying them himself when this entire time, he could have been living out his wildest fantasies.
He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything more as he begins to attack you with kisses. One for every missed opportunity. No expanse of skin goes untouched as they graze over your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your neck – anywhere Eddie can access feels the pressure of his eagerness.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he curses himself over your giggles, coming up for air just to stare at you, “I could have- Oh my God. Sweetheart, I’m such a fucking idiot.”
“You are,” you agree breathlessly with aching cheeks, “God, you are.”
He balances himself on his forearms as he stays lifted above you, his hair forming a curtain to cut the two of you off from the rest of the world.
You’re beautiful. Even more beautiful than that first day he’d met you in class, when you’d shushed him and all he did in return was make absolute heart eyes at you.
His best friend. The person he’d be yearning and pining for for six long years. Who had been trying to get him to kiss her for over six months now.
“I like you,” you confess, not breaking eye contact as a hand comes up to his cheek. He’s quick to turn his head, to let your palm press against him as he presses a kiss to your inner wrist, the perfume engulfing him again, “In case that wasn’t obvious.”
He swallows hard, letting his lips remove themselves slowly from your skin and his nose to linger as it presses into the smooth skin, “I like you, too. Have for a few years now.”
“A few?”
“Okay, yeah- the whole time,” his words pull a wider grin from you, “Don’t look so smug. I’m not letting you live down this whole perfume bullshit scheme.”
“And I’m not letting you live down going feral over some overpriced scented oils,” you retort, your cute snort cut short as your breath catches when he kisses your wrist again, “In all seriousness, though… Do you really think it smells good?”
He takes the opportunity to finally lower his hips. Just enough so that his crotch is brushing against your inner thigh, “Yeah, I think you could say I think they smell very good.”
Your hand travels back, caressing at his ear and sending a shiver down his spine before both of them latch behind his neck, prepared to pull him down into a kiss, “You got hard over some new perfumes, Munson? God, you’re easy.”
“I am,” he doesn’t fight it as he lets you, not gravity, tug him downwards, “I am so easy when it comes to you, baby.”
“Good thing I’m wearing one of those new bras, then,” you muse, placing far too quick of a kiss for his liking onto his lips before you tug him a bit lower, burying his face back in the side of your neck as you whisper in his ear, “Prove it.”
Eddie should probably send a thank you card to Nancy Wheeler and the mall’s perfume lady. Not Harrington, though. Never Steve Harrington.
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar
ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @thebanisheddreamer @water-loos @dailyobsession @whenshelanded @happy-and-alone
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#ghost's stories#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x you#no use of y/n#i had so much fun with this i'm not even sorry#it had me YEARNING#GIGGLING#KICKING MY FUCKING FEET#god i hate him i wanna show him my new perfumes#shamelessly described my own new perfumes i just got too sorry
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so.
Help Wanted 2.
Hey besties what the FUCK
#i have NOT finished the game yet so dont. say anything but#dca..................#kicking my fucking feet#my gOOOOOD#nebula rambles#EVERYTHING SO FAR HAS BEEN WILD
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thinking of the time me and finn danced around my kitchen to 'araw - araw' by ben&ben ( which you should totally listen to btw ) while making popcorn
#꒰⠀file : actress dr⠀꒱#giggling so hard#kicking my fucking FEET#jsdhneujbwsujdwniufn#bambi!#shifting#shifting realities#reality shifting#desired reality#shiftblr#finn wolfhard#finn wolfhard x reader
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So i think almost everyone has seen Hocus Pocus 2 right? The freaking song in it (One way or another) puts me in such a freaking lee mood its not fair-
#let me listen to my songs#like#im gonna getch gecha gecha?!#MMMM#got me giggling and shit#kicking my fucking feet#the only time i will ask for any sfw teases-#sfw tickling community#sfw tickle
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Thinking of how Vash looks when he cums
#kicking my fucking feet#he makes the best faces#his reactions to pleasure are so cute#and delicious#makes me want more from him every time#because I want to see it all#color: blue 🎨#vluesh 💟☮️
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he really looked like he was gonna vomit tho,,,
#been unmotivated to draw cod stuff lately so i watched some Gaz cutscenes from MW2019 and MWII#i was INSTANTLY in love again. i was kicking my feet. jESUS FUCKING CHRIST GAZ............ (i liked seeing him angy..)#also made me realize i've been drawing his hair wrong.. so imma correct that now SHASHAHSA#my art#2024#call of duty#cod#call of duty: modern warfare#call of duty: modern warfare ii#call of duty: modern warfare iii#cod mw#cod mwii#cod mwiii#modern warfare#gaz cod#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#art#fanart#digital art#digital drawing#sketch#doodle#video games
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yet another flop from the 'we can always tell' crowd
#ramble#my gender is so affirmed right now i'm kicking my feet#i should be sponsored by testosterone this is proof that it fucking WORKS#at least they think my art is good and that i'm pretty#by the way i don't censor transphobes' names. you're on a public platform spewing BS you get the consequences of that#there are so many layers to this
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'Let's take things slow', she said. 'She has never been with a girl before', she said.
LOVE PATTRANITE as SUN and MILK PANSA as ONGSA NANNAPHAT
episode 7 of 23 POINT 5
#23 point 5#23.5 the series#23.5 degrees#23.5#ongsasun#milklove#love pattranite#milk pansa#gmmtv gl#thai gl#tosunset#userlovevivi#THEM#I WAS KICKING MY FEET BLUSHING LIKE A TEENAGER FUCK OFF#:: mygifs!#long post#th: 23 point 5
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Get yourself a guy that says HOORAYYY YAYYY !!! :3 when you show him your tits and fucks your drippy wet holes until you fall asleep with your tummy pumped full of cum
#xochimilli writes#🫀puppy#shitpost if you squint#but also I do this and I think I fuck my pup pretty nicely#also i kick my feet all happy and get blushy LMAO#bd/sm pet#ftm nsft#t4t nsft#bd/sm kink#bd/sm master#ftm dom#ftm top#queer nsft#queer ns/fw#ftm switch#ftm vers#nsft puppy#bd/sm puppy#puppy sub#kitty nsft#kitty top#kitty boy#kitten nsft#bd/sm kitten#ftm kitten#trans nsft#t4t puppy#t4t ns/fw#mlm nsft#mlm ns/fw
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also also the way yeah simon and wille got to be together yeah 1000% but sara and felice!! god it’s so rare for any media to portray friendship and platonic relationships as just as important if not more important than romantic. but!!!!! they were also in that car!! they were endgame too!! it just brings me such joy that this silly angsty little romance can also put such value in friendship too <3 oh young royals writers just kill me
#that car. that last scene with car.#ofc ofc ofc them being the most adorable thing in the universe in the back#but sara and felice in the front!! sara got her driver’s liscense!! felice said fuck new york!! she had her feet up!!!!!!#and while we’re talking about yr and the value of platonic friendship can we talk about wille and felice for a moment?!?!?!!!!!#all throughout i’ve been obsessed with their friendship#i mean just look at them her looking after him through it all#even more cus they’re a boy and a girl!!! more platonic friendships between boys and girls in media!!! boys and girls can be friends#and that is just as valuable as boys and girls being in romantic relationships!!#kicking my feet over the friendships in this show on their own#let’s normalise going insane kicking feet twirling hair climbing walls gnashing at bars over platonic shit yeah mhm#young royals#young royals season 3#young royals season three#young royals s3#yr s3 spoilers#young royals spoilers#young royals s3 spoilers#kori shitposts#felice#felice ehrencrona#sara#felice young royals#sara eriksson#sara young royals
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i know Jadzia is Like That because Woman On Television be Nice And Smiley And Hyper-tolerant At All Times or the execs get pissy but whenever she smiles i feel like im in on a joke. like im giggling behind my hand while she deals with the conversation. she never actually looks at the camera but i can easily picture her giving the audience a glance in every cheeky interaction and something about it is hilarious to me. it can be a customer-service smile but it never lasts she just looks like she's perpetually amused and trying to not break composure. and considering all the bitches in her worm's head she probably is. she probably hears six jokes at once when a new person talks to her at any given moment. like in her head there's a choir of oh here comes mr Feetguy Bashir again. and its somehow completely natural for her brain but she's still equally as amused as if her past co-hosts had said it to her directly. i suppose in that sense it is Jadzia who is in on a joke. but this effect is contagious to me so therefore Jadzia Dax funniest fuck on Station Deep Space Nine
#ikildaman shut the fuck up#ds9#i see jadzia on screen and i start giggling kicking my feet like omggg jadziaaaa youre sooo funnyyyyyy
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Fr bro I love your energy! Noritoshi is so pretty and so criminally underrated. Keep up the good work in making more of us lusting publicly for him. You've done amazing job! That boy well-deserved it :)
tysm!! I try to open the eyes of the public to his qualities. join my cult yall, Noritoshi is so good listen to me.
but on the topic of energy, whether you're high or low energy, Noritoshi loves it. the only difference is how he reacts to it.
Let's say you're low energy or prefer subtlety in your affection..
Noritoshi will initiate first! ..after a while... in his own way.... He needs to gather enough courage and collect his thoughts properly, then hes good to go! He prefers more subtle displays of affection too, but if needed he'll be blunt about it. He'll learn to adapt to slightly teasing remarks, going as far as to banter and tease back, moreover he's just very loving. So loving it can be embarrassing from time to time because of how intense the atmosphere can get.. the best way he can be described here is princely.
A small smile forms on Noritoshi's lips when he feels you're around. He turns to you, already memorizing each and every quirk you have so that he doesn't waste any time setting his sights on you again. His hands reach out to tug on your sleeve as he looks at you with a gaze so needy you can practically tell what he's about to ask. "May i hold your hand?"
His voice comes so smooth that if you didn't know him, you would've missed the twinge of desperation it carried. You couldn't help yourself, you shook your head, a mischievous grin slowly creeping onto your lips at the sight of Noritoshi's pouted lip. Of course he'd do as you say even if it was clearly unfair, but not without some complaints.
He clicks his tongue, a quiet mutter of "cheeky.." escapes under his breath. He knows you do this on purpose to mess with him, he was tempted to beg a little, but decided against it. it was an embarrassing thought to begin with. Seriously, how mean can someone be to make a guy think like this? ..Extremely, if the guy's pouting is cute enough!
Noritoshi lifts his hand to his chin, thinking of the many ways he can try to get around this obstacle you cruelly placed in front of him. He leans in close, hovering next to you as he usually does when he thinks. He faces you as who knows what goes on in his head, his closed eyes not even giving you a hint as to what he could be thinking. "Ah, pardon me, I got lost in thought. I suppose i can keep my distance, so long as you keep looking at me with that charming gaze of yours."
Ah, so he was just winding up for a pick up line. How lame, but.. get used to it. He's going to shadow behind you the entire day with more one liners like that unless you shut him up yourself.
Wait.. was that his plan?
The faint sly smirk tugging on the corner of Noritoshi's lips and the warm hue on the apple his of cheeks are all you need to figure out the rest.
If you're high energy or prefer more blunt methods of affection..
Noritoshi gets overwhelmed and flustered from such raw approaches from you that he comes off as a bit rude. It's only because you make his heart so full that he needs to shut you down or else he'll do something embarrassing!! He wants to impress you, of course he enjoys your advances very much, but it's not very slightly to see someone like him act like a crushing school girl!! or so he thinks.
Noritoshi yelps in surprise as you snake your hands around his waist from behind. He doesn't push you away or even move for that matter, he's frozen stiff. Is he still alive? Like any good lover would, you benevolently press your ear against his back to listen for a heart beat.
..You didn't hear anything until the sound of Noritoshi sharp inhale came through. That was unexpected, but it works. He squirmed a little, seemingly trying to shrug you off but quickly giving up, accepting the fact that you've got him trapped. "You imbecile, e-enough of this!" he scolded, though he made no actual effort to stop you.
Noritoshi remains stiff for the most part, but looking at the back of his increasingly flushing neck reassures you that he is, indeed, alive. He's just being stubborn! Not turning or even a greeting, just rude name calling again! You raise one hand and place it over his heart to hold him tighter in your embrace.
As expected, its practically pounding against his chest. He swats your hand away and finally turns back to you with those cute furrowed brows and rosy cheeks. "You're such a bully, you know that?" he huffs out, any semblance of sternness failing to take effect as his jutted bottom lip quivers.
Mercifully, you finally let go and spare him by not pointing out the quiet whine he let out. He stumbles forward and turns around to face you fully, trying to keep an eye out for any more of your stunts while he catches his breath. He felt so dizzy from being in your arms, if he were held for a moment longer, he surely would've melted right then and there.
Noritoshi's hands trembled as he smoothed out his clothes, his mouth opening and closing as any and all words died in his throat. He wanted to yell at you for being so forward, for giving him no chance to prepare, for letting go of him, for a lot of things..! Yet he just pouted as he tried to calm the flush on his face.
His hands instantly whipped up in front of him when he noticed you took a step towards him. He can't handle another display of affection right now, he'll go weak at the knees! But how can you hold back when he's just so damn cute?
The most likely outcome is a mixture of both with a heavy leaning towards one. Either way, you're very right!! He's extremely pretty.
#noritoshi#kamo noritoshi#noritoshi kamo#noritoshi x reader#kamo noritoshi x reader#noritoshi kamo x reader#ezralva#cw: shotty writing from an amateur writer who is desperate for you to see his vision and why hes frothing at the mouth over a guy#could you feel the yandere undertones. i couldnt help myself. sue me#basically you give him enough time to gather his rizz if youre low energy but jumpscare the fuck out of him if youre high energy#and you know how he handles jumpscares according to this cult#heh#oh and you got me kicking my feet and shit bro#lusting publicly for him.... i couldnt word it better myself#thats the entire reason for having a cult and indoctrinating the public. ty my beloved cult member#BUT YEAH. LIKE I HAVE TOO MUCH ENERGY AND BRAIN POWER DEDICATED TO THIS MAN#I GOTTA INFECT OTHERS CAUSE HES SO. RIPS OFF MY FACE#TYSM FOR THE COMPLIMENT. I EAT THOSE UP MORE THAN ANYTHING. I LOVE YOU BRO#GOD HE *****DOES***** DESERVE ALL THE LOVE AND ATTENTION FUCK. HES SO!!!!!!!!! //PUNCHES MYSELF
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seungmin aegyo + pitch 🥺
cr. SEUNGM1NE
#stray kids#skz#seungmin#kim seungmin#bystay#staydaily#staytay#usersun#userbeepls#usersa#userlau#meltracks#jennalook#majatual#userbinsuns#!melstuff#he's just sooooo fucking cute i'm crying screaming kicking my feet on the fucking floor
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Thursday - Application For Release From The Dream
#we are SO fucking back#flashing#eyestrain#fire#flames#<- if you know how to trigger tag this one please let me know!!#thursday band#my gifs#kicking my feet and giggling we have new thursday we have new thursdayyyyy
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🕊️🐢 :D I
WAILS!!! LOOKIT MY PRETTY BOY!??!?! ; 0 ; I LOVE HIM TY
#sobbing screaming throwing up#i love him#i wILL TREASURE IT FOREVER#MY PRECIOUS SON#he is so fucking pretty in ur style wow ; w ;#im love him....#thank you....#swanatello#swanatello fanworks#giggling wildly#kicking my feet
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