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xxbottlecapx · 8 months

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I saw someone talk about this idea (can’t find them now) so-

Steve is walking down the street and he hears the jingling of a dog collar so he turns around to ask to pet their dog but it’s just Eddie.

Steve might have a meltdown. He seriously might. This was the worst day he’s had in a long fucking time.

The day started with a fucking seizure, of all things, when Steve hasn’t had one in months, so he decided to go to the emergency room to get checked up just in case.

The doctors said he was fine, the scans and blood tests came back just as normal, but he ended up missing lunch so he didn’t get to have down time with his best friend Robin, and she was the biggest reason he could manage his anxiety and PTSD.

His mom called him when he was at the hospital, even though she disowned him ten years ago when he was forced out of the closet as bisexual. He thought she wanted to talk but apparently her husband (Steve’s father, unfortunately) was dying and wanted Steve to help with the hospital bills considering apparently their business went under, which Steve hadn’t known about because he hasn’t seen them in ten years. It led to a fight over the phone which triggered another seizure, so he’s had two in one day. Because of his history with seizures, the hospital decided to let him go, which he wasn’t entirely sure would be a good idea, but what else were they supposed to do? It’s not like Steve knew. Besides, he’s pretty sure they were understaffed and maybe they just didn’t have a place for him. They just gave him some painkillers, gave him a form so he wouldn’t have to go to work for a week, and let him go after giving him an IV. Steve would have argued about the work thing, but the doctor was able to convince him that having a bad seizure in front of a bunch of toddlers might be a bad idea, even if they’ve dealt with his smaller ones before.

He decided he would go for a run because that always relaxes him before remembering that he shouldn’t go running after having two seizures, so he decided to go for a walk instead. Of course, this only makes things worse for himself. First, he forgets to take his dog Farrah with him on the walk, and then he realizes that he’s wearing a thick knitted yellow sweater in 86 degree heat, also he lost his glasses somehow?

He must have still had some postictal confusion left because he very quickly got lost and then he couldn’t find wherever the fuck he put his phone, so he couldn’t call Robin to pick him up, and it’s not like his anxiety would let him walk up to some random person and ask.

It was getting dark, so he wasn’t going to approach a woman, which was something Robin had to teach, and Steve was kind of scared of men, which might be stupid because he was a man, and also taller than most men, but anxiety is a bitch so it’s not like he could argue with it.

His heart beating outside his chest, Steve realized he very well could have a third seizure, or a panic attack if he didn’t calm the fuck down, so he went to hide behind a alley which just so happened to be behind a bar.

That was fine.

The music was dampened by the concrete wall and sometimes silence made Steve’s existential dread even worse. He missed his dog. Farrah was a white teacup chihuahua and Pomeranian mix that Steve had adopted from a shelter he had been volunteering at. She kept getting bullied for her size even when they put her in with the other babies, and the shelter asked someone to foster her. It was a foster fail but Steve didn’t regret it.

Steve tried to think of her as he sat down, working on the deep breathing his therapist had told him about. Of course, Steve sat on the floor and got beer and gunk on his jeans, but he was so tired that he was past caring.

A migraine was coming on, all of his bones hurt, and he had white spots dancing in his vision. His hands were shaking. It’s very possible he had a small seizure when he was getting here and he didn’t remember it, that happened sometimes. He really hoped Robin had done okay at school without him. They taught a kindergarten class together. He really should have called to get her an aid but it had slipped his mind and she was going to be pissed.

He would just stay on the floor until he felt better. Then he’d call and apologize.

He did remember to feed Farrah and she had some pads on his living room so she would be okay. When he got home he would give her a lot of treats. Maybe he would make Robin cupcakes.

Steve’s nerves picked up when he heard someone open a door behind him. Luckily for him, he had a switchblade in his pocket (he got it from Max, and who knows where she got it from) so he could use that in case of an emergency if anyone tried to accost him. Then again, this was a bar, maybe they’d just think he was drunk and leave him alone.

The jingling of a dog tag gets Steve’s attention, and suddenly he thinks he might actually cry if he doesn’t get to pet this dog right now.

The person’s heavy footsteps get closer, the dog chain making cute clinking sounds, and Steve readily looks up to ask, even though his face is already red with embarrassment, because what if the person says no?

But then he sees the man’s thick-heeled boots, and then his leather jacket with all the metal spikes on the shoulders, and Steve thinks no, he doesn’t have to ask to pet the guys dog, and then he chokes when he realizes there isn’t any fucking dog. The man is wearing a collar.

Steve tries to quickly shove his head between his legs, curl into a ball so the man might not notice him, but whatever sound he makes is enough to draw the guy's attention. Fuck.

“Hey, what were you going to say? I saw you try to ask something.” The guys crouches down in front of Steve. Steve assumes the guy is going to beat him up for looking at him weird or something, but the man’s voice, while deep, is actually very calm. He has a few more chains hanging from his black jeans, which were absolutely shredded, and the clinking noise still reminds Steve of Farrah but now he’s embarrassed about it. Is he wearing fishnets under his jeans? Oh my god, Robin is going to kill Steve in the morning if this guy doesn’t kill him first.

Steve thinks about answering but his words get clogged in his throat. Sure, he didn’t ask to pet the guy, but he thought about it, and his face burns and Steve wishes he could jump into the dumpster a few feet away.

He must look weird, because the guy, already crouching down to him, gets closer until their knees are touching.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks, very gently putting a heavily ringed hand on Steve’s arm.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve sobbed, finally lifting his head to meet the guy's face. The dude’s hair is long, held up in a ponytail, which shows off the fact that he has an undercut with a pattern shaved on it. This man is absolutely terrifying, oh my God, how is Steve going to get out of this situation without dying?

The guy's eyes widen at the words, but he keeps his movements slow as he places his hands against both of Steve’s trembling arms. Not constricting him, just pressing, just adding a bit of pressure.

“You’re okay, I’m not angry.” The guy says soothingly, “You haven’t done anything. Why- why are you crying?” The guy’s voice goes high pitched, cracking a little. If Steve wasn’t so terrified, maybe he’d find it comforting.

Steve doesn’t know what comes over him. He tells himself he’ll come up with something stupid, but his body hurts and lying takes a mental energy that Steve doesn’t have right now. His head pounds and the sound of his blood rushes past his ears.

“Uh, I heard your collar and I thought you were a dog.” He whispered, putting his head between his knees again. “I was gonna ask to pet you. I’m so sorry.” He sounds absolutely mortified, which is good because he is. Why was he saying this? Steve was about to die and then Farrah would go back to the shelter and Robin would find another teacher and forget about him and no one would be able to teach Dustin to drive because he’s too annoying to keep a normal driving instructor-

“You can pet me, if you want.” The guys interrupt Steve’s spiral. He moves so he’s sitting next to Steve, both their backs to the wall, his chains clinking all the while until their thighs are touching. Steve could briefly feel the dull spikes on the guys jacket pressing Steve’s shoulder.

Steve’s brain completely blanks out.

“…Uh-“ his hands are close to his chest, in fists, but mostly he’s just confused. Why is this guy being so nice to him? Steve thought he was a dog. He was never going to live this down.

“I like petting.” The guy says, a small smirk on his face that brings charming wrinkles to his cheeks. Steve blushes.

“Ca….” He can’t tell if the guy is serious, but the dude quickly pulls his hair out of his ponytail, shaking his head- like a dog.

Maybe it’s just the seizure talking, but Steve tries to call his bluff.

“Can I pet you?” Steve whispers, confusion and uncertainty lacing his shaking voice.

“Yeah.” The dude replies calmly, tilting his head.

Well, Steve realizes, now he kind of has to, doesn’t he? Shit. The guys hair looks really fucking soft. Steve’s allowed to touch it?

Without knowing what else to do, Steve stiffly pats the guys on the head, which makes the guy laugh. Still, he doesn’t attempt to make Steve stop. In fact, he gets closer, until Steve’s arm is wrapped around his shoulder, playing with the hair on the crown of his head. Steve doesn’t really know what to do at first, but the dude smells really minty, but also like weed, and Steve doesn’t hate it as much as he thinks he should. He brushes his fingers through the guy's brown hair until there are no knots, letting his heart settle until the spots in his vision go away.

“So, what are you doing out here?” The guy asks quietly, letting Steve mess with his hair, his eyes are closed almost like he’s enjoying it.

“I got lost.” Steve starts. The guy hums, so Steve continues. “I, uh, I had a few seizures this morning, and I got confused and got lost and I can’t find my phone or my glasses-“ Steve only realizes he’s rambling when the guy gives him a very concerned look.

“Do I need to get you to a hospital?” He asks, clearly trying not to frighten Steve.

“Oh? No, no, it’s okay, I’m sorry,” Steve said, almost absently as he braided a small strand of the guy's hair. He tried to focus on that instead of the raging headache he has crawling up his spine. “I went to the emergency room already, this is normal, it happens a lot, it’s just been a bad day. I’m sorry.”

He can feel the guy nod, his body relaxing slightly. His hand casually moves to touch Steve’s collar with the tips on his fingers, his short nails painted black.

“Your glasses are on your shirt.”

Steve looks down where his glasses were hanging off the collar of his sweater. He blanches.

“Shit, thank you. I’m sorry.” He mumbled, hurriedly putting them on. His face goes hot, and he wants to sink into the floor. He might cry again, he was so embarrassed.

“Can you call someone?” The guy asks, not bringing up the panic on Steve’s face, which Steve is mighty grateful for because bringing it up will make him cry, he thinks.

Steve shakes his head, “I lost my phone. Sorry.” He chokes out.

“Can I call someone?” The guy specifies.

That’s a really good idea. Sure, it’s getting dark, but Robin always has time for him. She’s probably out of work and blowing up his phone trying to contact him. She might even have broken into Steve’s apartment by now.

Steve closes his eyes, trying to push past the fog in his brain. The only thing it does is add pressure to the backs of his eyes.

“I… I can’t remember any numbers right now, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He puts his hand over his mouth to stop himself from speaking.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The guy delicately pressed his palm to Steve’s shoulder, which draws attention to the fact that Steve’s breathing has sped up again.

Steve gulps, blinking hard to stop himself from tearing up. He feels so fucking stupid.

“Uh, with chronic seizures, there’s this thing, called a- uh, postictal state,” he tries to explain, voice way more breathy than he would like. He’s gripping maybe a bit too firmly to the frayed ends of the guy’s hair but he makes no move to stop him. “Which I like to say just means my brain hasn’t, hasn’t caught up to my body, like it’s, um, still processing.“

The guy nods, taking Steve’s rambling with grace. “Do you like champurrado?” He asks, Steve opens his mouth, closing it, opening it again. The guy nods, hurrying to explain himself.

“We could go to my apartment and I could make you some. You look like you could eat. I made albondigas yesterday. When you can remember, we’ll call someone.”

Steve really shouldn’t. This guy has already been too nice to him. Steve didn’t want to impose. Also, the guy was very kind, yeah, but Robin would kill him if he got hurt following this dude somewhere. But then Steve takes stock of the aches in his body. If he didn’t go with the guy, what would he do? Sit here all night? It was going to get cold and Steve’s anxiety wouldn’t let him sleep outside in the dark in an alleyway behind a bar playing very loud, aggressive metal music.

Steve sighs, defeated. “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry.” He felt like he was doing something wrong.

The guys smile brightly, almost blindingly so. He stands, chains jingling, and holds out a hand for Steve to take it.

“You gotta stop saying sorry, man, you just had what, two seizures? It’s fi- holy shit.”

The man’s hands were soft, which Steve wasn’t expecting, save for a few well placed calluses on his fingers. Steve tried not to think about it as he stood and wiped some gunk off his jeans, staring at the messy floor before figuring out something was wrong. He looked up, and the dude was staring up at Steve with his eyes wide, mouth agape.

“What? What’s wrong?” Steve whispers, folding in on himself a little. What the fuck did he do now?

The music rages on, but now it’s overwhelming. He feels static in his head.

The guy’s heavily tattooed arms were held limply at his sides, “You- you’re really fucking tall.” He says unabashedly.

Steve gulps, trying to shrink a little to make himself smaller, like that may alleviate the problem. Unfortunately, thought he did this often, It did mean he had terrible posture so his neck began to hurt.

“Oh, I’m really sorry.” Steve wouldn’t look at him.

“Why are you apologizing? It’s hot.” The guy says, Steve’s head shoots up to look at him as they stare at each other until the dude realizes what he just said. “Wait, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” The guy puts his hands up, a nervous huff coming out past his lips as he was the one to start panicking now.

Steve can’t help but let out a small laugh, covering his mouth with his hands. He’s never had someone say he’s hot in such a way, he couldn’t help but be a bit flattered. Steve nods so the dude knows he isn’t upset by the random comment. Steve’s face was already red, and now he couldn’t even tell why.

The guy’s eyes brighten, if that were possible.

“Okay, let’s go. I’m Eddie.” He says, motioning for Steve to follow him. It takes a second for Steve to get the memo, with how slow his brain is working, so Eddie cautiously takes Steve’s arm in the way Steve watches men do in old movies.

“I’m Steve. Thank you.” Steve, honest to God, giggled. Maybe he should be worrying about his dad and the fight he had with his mother, but he tries not to think about it. They’re not his problem, and he has better things to do.

He does have to look down to see Eddie’s face when they’re not sitting, but that’s normal for Steve. He’s a few heads taller than most people he knows, and he works with kids so he’s obviously taller than them. He kind of just forgets, most of the time. No one else has mentioned it. His height was why he was so popular in high school before the seizures and anxiety messed it all up, though Steve is grateful he isn’t a bitch anymore. He’s only about a head and a half taller than Eddie, though.

Eddie laughs, and it’s a cracky, beautiful sound. “You’re welcome, big boy.”

Steve squints at Eddie as he leads him down the street. “Big boy?” He asks. As they get farther from the bar, there are less and less people out on the streets. No one jostles Steve, though, probably on account of the guy next to him, covered head to toe in spikes with black eye makeup.

“Really? Do you not see how large you are?” Eddie continued, looking up at Steve like he was insane as he led him to the left, then the right. “It’s honestly kind of scary.”

“Me?” Steve wasn’t scary, this guy had it wrong. Sure, he was big, but nothing about him was frightening. Steve couldn’t remember the last person he met who actually looked afraid of him. None of his students ever were.

“Yeah, you!”

“I’m not scared.” Steve protested, though he was also smiling. “If anything, you’re scary.”

Eddie throws his head back dramatically, covering his face with his curly hair. The bandana in his back pockets whips around.

“Why thank you.” Eddie grins, “Just so you know, flattery works on me.” He continued until they got to what appeared to be Eddie’s apartment building. Steve held on to his arm tighter. Eddie's dramatics calm him a little.

“I have a dog, so you can pet a real one.” Eddie teases, unlocking the door with his free arm. “Her name is Ozzy, she’s a Doberman Great Dane mix, so I hope big dogs don’t scare you. I promise she’s not violent.” There’s something in his voice that tells Steve there’s something else.

Steve smiles softly, “She sounds perfect.”

#steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steveddie #eddie x steve #stranger things #stranger things s4 #robin buckley #steve has seizures #meet cute #or meet ugly #depending #depending on how you look at it #modern au

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thottybrucewayne · 5 months

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Another James Somerton lie that's super egregious to me is his lying about Janelle Monáe having to come out of the closet when Pynk came out because "Everyone got confused and thought the song was a girl power anthem when it was really Janelle's coming out song." and making a big deal about erasure and what not but it's like A. None of that is true the second that music video came out everybody and they mama said, "Janelle Monáe gay?????????????????" That was the primary reading of the music video, and it's very well-documented B. It could be argued that the music is somewhat of a "girl power" anthem too and I doubt Janelle would have an issue with that interpretation given that Pynk has a very "owning your sexuality and taking up space" message. C. Funny that James Somerton would make such an impassioned defense of an artist being "forced" to come out because he literally lied on a bisexual writer who was forced to come out after people assumed that she was some gross straight woman obsessed with gay men. James, who supposedly did alllllllll this research, lumped that author in with the "Straight woman who writes gay men's stories." in his video and proceeded to get pissy with her when she left a pretty mild comment of "Hey, after a whole harassment campaign against me forcing me to come out of the closet it kinda sucks that people are still calling me straight." Then, after very gently being called out over him erasing her sexuality to fit his narrative, he proceeded to omit the title of that author's work in his later videos and make up a lie about her being mean to him on Twitter when his audience questioned him on it. LITERALLY TALKIN OUTTA BOTH SIDES OF HIS MOUTH

This whole situation reminds me of a TikTok creator who's been called out for stealing from Black women all the time and how every time it's brought up, it's met with silence. Once, He just straight-up read out a Black trans femme's tweets without properly crediting her or asking her for permission to use her work. Making the excuse of "Well, I screenshotted the tweets and put them on the screen so..." then his fans spent days bashing her for calling him out on using the work of other creators without asking and making fun of her for having a donation up which I don't think he ever addressed outside of the occasional stray comment.

This way of "building a progressive brand" through stealing the work of marginalized writers is actually common in left circles and academia and has been an issue, particularly for Black trans femme essayists, for a while. Black MaGes (people of marginalized genders) will come out and say, "Hey! This really popular essayist ripped me off word for word bar for bar" and get paid dust because their platform isn't large enough to speak out and because their platforms are smaller, people are less inclined to care when they get ripped off. Like, it's easy for us to point at James and say, "Omg? How could he get away with stealing this much for so long?" when the answer is simple, nobody cares what you have to say if you don't have a big platform, thus nobody cares if you get stolen from and unfortunately, we're all complicit. Look at how much this situation has blown up just because a super-popular guy brought it up. If Hbomb and Todd in the shadows didn't speak on this story and these small creators made a bigger stink about James biting their shit, yall would have ignored them at best or crucified them and accused them of trying to tear down the body of work of a gay man and probably throw in something about them secretly being a kiwi farms troll trying to sew discord in the community (I know how yall get down...) at worst. To address this issue more substantially, WE have to be better about learning slowly and taking time to pour over materials ourselves and not fall into the trap of letting whatever video essayist we like the best at the moment shape how we think and feel about whatever topic they're covering. Ismatu Gwendolyn and their threadings essays on substack have really helped me personally start removing myself from the "quick learner" rat race and the need to digest as much information as possible that video essays fulfill and reintroduced me to learning slowly and with intention and reading sources for myself first without depending on the thoughts and feelings of a creator I like and agree with to color my view of things. If we work towards getting used to treating video essayists like essayists and not our parasocial besties being our beginning and end to learning on a topic, we can A. Mitigate the amount of misinformation and plagiarized work circulating by being able to identify them easier and B. Improve our personal relationship to learning so we don't have to rely on some stranger with "bisexual lighting" to make us feel smart.

Edit: Please rb the typo-less version,,,,

#thotty speaks #thotty rants #I linked Ismatu's substack because I cite my sources and am not a fawkin HACK #sorry had to get one more dig in <3

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davidtennantgenderenvy · 3 months

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My Two Cents On The “ Is David Tennant Queer” Drama

As some of you know, I spent a solid third of the past year working on a movie-length video essay about David Tennant. This video essay features an eight minute section titled “Gender, Vulnerability, and Why David Tennant Is A Queer Icon”, which does not speculate on David’s own sexuality, but discusses the queer coding and subversion of gender norms in plenty of his roles and his importance as an ally to the LGBT community. At the same time, I was also coming to terms with my own identity as nonbinary and bisexual, and it ended up playing a crucial role in me finally working up the courage to come out to my parents. Characters like Crowley and the Doctor, both in terms of how they present themselves and how and who they love, have been absolutely instrumental in me developing my queer identity, and my comments section was full of people who had had similar experiences, who’d realized they were trans, nonbinary, gay, etc thanks to David and his characters. And as a result, I won’t deny that if David himself were to be queer, it would mean a lot to me.

Do I think David is queer? It’s certainly possible. I see a lot of how I express my queerness in how david chooses to express himself, most prominently through his frequent queer coding of characters who don’t necessarily have to be played as such. This can especially be seen through his Shakespeare characters, such as Richard, Hamlet, and some would argue Benedick as well. When I was 15 I played Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet, who I chose to play as a closeted young gay man harboring an unrequited crush on Romeo. I think I saw this role subconsciously as an outlet for my own repressed queerness, both of gender and sexuality, as I had experienced an unrequited crush on my female best friend the previous year which I was still in denial about. I’ve described my gender identity as “a girl with a chaotic tortured gay man inside of her that needs to be let out every once in a while”, which has never been more true than with Mercutio- a character who I might add, I took a great deal of inspiration from David when playing! In terms of using roles as an outlet for one’s queerness, I could absolutelt see this being true with David, especially when it comes to Crowley, who seems to have had an impact on David’s style, behavior, etc in a rather similar way to how he’s impacted me. I don’t want to act like David wearing pink docs means he must be gay, I think people should be allowed to wear whatever they want regardless of sexuality, but taken in conjunction with so many other things about him, it does make one wonder, and the fact that a seemingly straight man has been so many people’s queer awakening is a bit puzzling to say the least. I won’t pretend that these “signs” (if you interpret them that way), haven’t been increasing somewhat in the past year, and if I got to share my own coming out journey with the man who inspired it, I would be absolutely thrilled. I also can’t specifically think of an instance where David has SAID he is straight, as opposed to Taylor swift, who has.

With all of that said, where I personally draw the line is when mere speculation crosses into interfering with the subject’s personal relationships and the sense that one is OWED something. I believe that what matters to David more than anything is being a husband and a father. I believe he adores Georgia and his children and would not do anything in the world that he believes would jeopardize his family. As happy as I would be for David if he were to come out (probably as bi) I realize that that would put so much unwanted attention on his marriage and family and I think that’s the last thing he wants. I don’t think it’s IMPOSSIBLE that he and Michael Sheen are having a passionate love affair behind everyone’s backs, but I absolutely don’t consider it my place to insist that they are, because as much as I may feel like I do, I don’t know these people! And besides, if David were cheating on Georgia, he really would not be the person I thought he was.

So many queer people see themselves in David and his characters, and that is beautiful. And I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with having theories that David might be queer himself. However, it must be acknowledged that these theories are THEORIES, and they should not be used to invalidate people’s real life relationships- after all, it’s totally possible to be bi/pan and also be in a loving and healthy heterosexual relationship like David and Georgia at least seem to be in! If David were in fact “one of us”, I would welcome him with the openest of open arms, but unless and until he himself decides to proclaim himself that way, I will not expect anything of him other than to be the incredible artist and person we know and love.

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huggingkoalas · 4 months

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heated tensions

pairings professor!vanessa shelly x fem!student!reader

synopsis after encountering one of your professors, professor vanessa shelly, by chance at the club, the both of you drink together at the bar. you go over to her place afterwards for some ‘private time’.

word count 1.8k

warnings smut, pet names, degradation, cursing, oral sex, top!vanessa, bottom!reader, teacher-student relationship

author’s note less use of ‘flowery’ language this time, i tried to be more quick with the writing but still ended with 1k words D: will probably be on hiatus for abit because of work and family issues </3

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It was a seedy bar, barely on the cusp of legality. You let out a series of coughs at the reeking smell of sweat and sex. You had heard from your friends that there was a lesbian bar near your dorm. You were a sophomore at the University of Utah and haven’t had any luck getting a relationship with anyone at the university so far. You were a closeted bisexual, so you decided to try the lesbian bar instead of a normal one.

You were disappointed by the lack of choices for the evening. The attractive ones looked like they were taken, and there were others you could not picture being with. You sighed, sipping on your glass of rum and coke.

You knew that you shouldn’t be so picky, it had been over a year since you’d had sex. You were so busy with your studies that you didn’t have time to have a social life. Your fingers and toys worked occasionally, but only for awhile, and you wanted some real company. Toying with your drink, you decided to give it five more minutes, and if no one remotely attractive arrived, you’d go home.

The five minutes went faster than you had hoped, so quickly that you decided to give yourself another five and then another. Letting out a ‘tsk’, you drank the last of your rum and coke and stood up. You quickly cast a desperate eye towards the door.

And that was when a familiar figure walked in. Your eyes widened as you realized that it was your writing and rhetoric studies professor, Professor Vanessa Shelly. The surprise of seeing her in such a setting made you freeze for a moment, but curiosity got the better of you.

Vanessa’s gaze roamed the bar and landed on you. She approached you, weaving through the dancing crowd to reach the service bar. “Hello, Ms. L/N.” She called out above the music.

You took a shaky breath. “Oh, good evening Professor Shelly! It’s... Uh, it’s not what it looks like.” You stammered, a faint blush colouring your cheeks. “I’m just here for a drink. I’m not into women.”

She chuckled, trying to put you at ease. “No need to explain. We’re not in university, you can call me Vanessa. Why don’t I get you a drink?”

The both of you navigated your way through the bar, settling into a quieter corner where you could converse without shouting over the music. You let your gaze roam her outfit, realizing that she was still in her work clothes. You admired how her grey pantsuit hugged her body. and that blue tie she wore. You had always thought your professor was attractive, especially when she wore a tie. You had never thought that she might also be gay. Why else would she be in a lesbian bar?

After a moment, a lively individual with a charismatic smile approached us. “What can I get you two?” The bartender asked.

You glanced at Vanessa, giving her the opportunity to choose first. She pondered for a moment before deciding on something simple. “A shot of vodka, please.”

The bartender nodded, turning his attention to you. “And for you?”

You offered a smile. “I’ll go with a rum and coke, thanks.”

While waiting for the drinks, you could see Vanessa cast worried looks at the people around the bar. Was she nervous that someone would recognize the both of you? Your thoughts were interrupted when your drinks came. You raised your glass to your lips, appreciating the familiar comfort it offered. Vanessa downed her shot of vodka, letting out a hum at the taste.

You asked her nervously. “And what about you, Vanessa? What’re you doing here? I never expected to see a professor here.”

With a smirk, Vanessa placed down her glass. “Unlike you, Ms. L/N, I’m gay.”

“Oh.” You replied, her cheeks turning a light shade of red.

She reached her hand across the table and placed it gently on yours. You didn’t react by snatching your hand away, but your gaze did shift nervously away from hers.

“You’re not here for a drink, are you? You’re gay.” Vanessa said carefully.

“I... Well, you’re correct. I’m here because I’m gay.” Your gaze fell to her hand holding yours. “I feel so disgusting, though. I can’t help it, it’s just the way women look - they do something to me. I know it's wrong to feel like this.”

Vanessa stroked her thumb against the back of your hand and tried to speak encouragingly. “It’s not disgusting. Some women like men, while others like other women. Neither is right or wrong.”

“Thanks, Vanessa.” Your hand that wasn’t holding her hand lifted to wipe away a tear. “I wish I could be like you. To have no restrictions on sexuality.”

Vanessa’s eyebrows rose. You could see that she was taking time to think about her following words. “Why don’t we go to my place? We can talk further in private.”

“I... I’d like that.” You smiled. You downed the last sip of your rum and coke. You wondered if she knew if going back to her place was another way of saying ‘to go back to her place to fuck’.

Vanessa switched on the light in her apartment and turned to you. “Make yourself comfortable.”

She went over to a counter beside the television. A vinyl recorder sat atop the counter. She sifted through a box full of vinyl, choosing the perfect record for the setting. Finally taking her pick and placing the vinyl on the recorder, soft, soothing music began to play from the instrument.

She went to her kitchen to grab a wine bottle and a pair of wine glasses. She joined you on the couch, placing them on the coffee table. She poured the wine into the two glasses, the red liquid reminding you of the colour of her lipstick.

Raising both of your glasses, Vanessa exclaimed. “Cheers.”

“Thank you, Vanessa.” The both of you clinked your glasses.

The both of you sat drinking on their glasses of wine for a couple of minutes. You recognized that the music playing on the vinyl recorder was a classic song you favoured. Vanessa placed down her glass and stood up, extending a hand to you. “Wanna dance?”

“N-Now? Here?” You were stunned. You exhaled nervously, taking Vanessa’s hand to pull yourself up. "Alright.”

Vanessa danced energetically. It took you time to ease your shyness to dance as energetically as her. The both of you threw themselves around the room like two hyper-high school teenagers, laughter dancing in the air. You laughed as you walked over to take another sip of your drink. She walked over to the vinyl recorder and replaced the album with a more upbeat one. She sauntered back to you, her hips swaying as she danced to the song. You stayed still for a second, admiring how her body looked as she danced.

“Come on,” Vanessa called, beckoning you with a finger and a wink.

You put down your drink, walking over to join her. While the both of you were dancing separately before, she was moving closer to you, so much so that your body was almost touching hers. You smiled as you looked up at her, and she beamed back. Vanessa reached behind you and pulled you towards her.

“V-Vanessa-” You stuttered.

Vanessa’s smile turned into a smirk. She leaned forward, closing her lips onto you. Your lips melted on hers, your lips opening to give her tongue permission to roam your mouth. Realizing what was happening, you pulled back in shock, your cheeks reddening.

“I-I’m sorry.” Vanessa apologized, unwrapping her hands from your waist.

“I-I should be the one apologizing, it’s me. I’m not ready.” You smiled weakly, “I’m attracted to you, but you're my professor, and-”

Vanessa gave you a quick peck on the lips, shutting you up. “I know, but we’ll figure something out, alright?”

Speechless, you nodded. Vanessa wrapped her arms around your waist, and you wrapped your arms around her shoulder. This time, you were the one to initiate the kiss. You deepened the kiss, sucking on her bottom lip in favour. As the both of you kissed, Vanessa couldn’t help but move her hands from your waist to your butt, squeezing it lightly.

Your hands went to the buttons on her pantsuit, unbuttoning them. She broke the kiss, looking at you with raised eyebrows. “Are you sure about this?”

You nodded. “Yes, please-” Vanessa grinned and laid a trail of kisses around your neck, her hands sliding underneath your shirt. She was surprised to feel nothing but bare flesh, squeezing your breasts.

“You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?” Vanessa whispered. You grabbed the hem of your shirt, taking it off in reply to her question.

“Are you going to punish me, Professor Shelly?” you teased, calling her by her professional term.

The music had stopped long ago, but the two of you were too entranced by each other. Vanessa grabbed your hands, pulling you over to her bedroom. She pushed you onto her bed, your back hitting the soft mattress. You pushed yourself back until your back hit the headboard, spreading your legs wide for Vanessa.

Her knees hit the mattress, crawling to you and sliding a hand up your clothed thigh. She didn’t waste any time pulling down your pants and panties, eager to touch you. You let out a shaky breath, reaching forward to pull on her blue tie to give her a bruising kiss. “I need you, Vanessa, please.”

Vanessa lowered herself to your heat, tenderly kissing your inner thighs. She could smell you, her mind hazing at the thought of tasting you. She moved the tip of her tongue to enter your cunt, the bittersweet tang on her taste buds. You gasped in pleasure, your sounds becoming more high-pitched as she pushed more of her tongue into you. You gripped her shoulders as she explored your wet heat, swirling and pressing her tongue on your inner walls.

“Oh god, that’s so good,” You murmured. Vanessa’s hands gripped your thighs, squeezing them as she slammed her tongue deeper into you.

“Don’t stop, please.” You cried out in frustration. Erotic and wet noises could be heard as sje lapped on your heat in hunger. Your thighs were quivering and your back arched as you thrust your hips. She was addicted to your taste, picking up the speed of moving her tongue in and out of you.

Your nails sunk deeper into Vanessa’s shoulder, blood beginning to draw out. “I-I’m cumming!” You screamed out, the sound reverberating around the bedroom. Vanessa licked up the remnants, her chin, and nose streaked with your cum.

Your cheeks and ears were flushed red, your chest heaving in deep, ragged breaths. “W-Wow, Vanessa.” You exclaimed, your thighs still quivering from the intense orgasm. “That... That was something.”

navigation main masterlist | request guidelines | about me

#lumi’s fics!#vanessa shelly #vanessa monroe #vanessa afton #elizabeth lail #vanessa shelly x reader #fnaf vanessa #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fanfic #smut #wlw

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fallow-hollow · 9 days

Text

take you home

…ft! chilchuck tims x male! half-foot! reader

…tags! fluff, pining, confession, dates, mentions of drinking, post-canon

…word count! 1346

…notes! i fully agree with the fandom consensus that chilchuck is a closeted bisexual

Chilchuck was a pretty prominent union leader on the island, so it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that he’d do the same when he moves back to Kahka Brud to set up shop.

If you’re a half foot in the area, especially one looking for work, it’s pretty much impossible not to know Chilchuck.

No matter your field, he’s a great guy to go to for making connections and financial advice in general.

The first time you talked to him was about negotiating for a contract with a potential employer, but honestly, you’d always sort of admired him from afar. Hard working, sharp-witted, not to mention good looking.

“What?!” You nearly jumped at the man’s exasperated shout, being that he was fairly close to your ear. Chilchuck agreed to help you take a look at one of the contracts you’ve been offered, so you were currently letting him take a look at a copy. This, of course, led to the man peering over your shoulder, which didn’t help your absolutely hopeless crush on him. Not that you were complaining, though.

To make it even worse, he even rested his elbow right on your shoulder to point something out on the paper. “They don’t even include consequential damages litigation here! No way are you going to be tricked into being liable for their lost profits!”

Not turning your head due to your own embarrassment, you merely looked at him in your peripheral vision. “So, what do you think I should do?”

“Wellll….” As he deliberated on your question, the man leaned away from you, allowing you to turn your body towards him more. “If you’re dead set on working with this employer, I’d say negotiate as much as you can. On your own, you can get brushed off easily, but if you need…” he wore a smug grin whilst rubbing under his nose with his index finger. “I can put in a good word for you.”

And if you’re a half-foot, the guy is most likely taller than you. It’s noted that if the entire canon party were half-foots, he’d be taller than even Laios.

By this point in the timeline, I also imagine he’s patched things up with his family, but not in a romantic relationship with his ex-wife anymore. They’re friendly and see each other regularly, and she and his daughters even tease him about putting himself out there again.

From conversations you’ve had with him, you’re more than aware he’s been married before and has kids, and that doesn’t deter you from seeking a relationship with him at all. In fact, if you ever meet his daughters, you’ll likely get along well if you’re as amiable with them as you are with their father.

“I like him,” Puckpatti would declare the moment you left the room. “He seems sweet! You definitely need somebody like that to coax you out of your whole crab apple act, Papa.”

“It’s not like that!” He would instantly retort, causing his two more outgoing daughters to giggle. Even Meijack, albeit not as boisterous as her sisters, had a hint of an amused look on her face.

“Yet.” Flertom winked. “If you ever need some tips to speed up the process, you really shouldn’t be afraid to ask!”

The mere offer turned the man into a stuttering mess. “Stop that or I’ll— I’ll tell your mother!”

For a moment, Meijack’s eyes flitted to her father’s face before retreating back to the side. “She already told us she knew you swung that way.”

Chilchuck would’ve downright screamed if not for your return. “Hey guys, what’d I miss?” He dared not turn around, lest you notice how flushed he’d become in mere minutes.

Puckpatti, with a look so innocent that you could hardly believe she was tormenting her father just moments before, clapped her hands together and grinned. “No, you came at just the right time! I wanted to ask more about how you and Papa met!”

Chilchuck has never dated another guy before, so he doesn’t have a lot of experience in that field. Honestly, since his wife and he were childhood friends, I’m not sure if he’s dated anybody else at all. Most of the guys he knew well were coworkers, drinking buddies, or both, so emotional connection wasn’t always a priority.

Your friendly attitude and respect for his craft already drew him in, plus your little acts of affection drove him absolutely crazy. Give him a hug as a greeting and he’s doing everything he can to resist melting. Could a person really be this sweet with no ulterior motive? Someone like you has got to be even rarer than even the most valuable treasures.

More likely than not, you’d be the one to actually ask him out. You may need to repeat yourself when you ask him, though, cause the man might just die of shock.

Holding up the poster for the ‘couple’s night’ at the bar you frequented together was a bit of a nerve wracking experience, if you were being honest. Watching the other man’s eyes squint and scan over the text, you grinned and asked,

“Would you want to go together?”

For a moment, Chilchuck didn’t really know what to make of your request. You asking him to go out for drinks with him was a totally normal thing between you two, but why were you showing him that ad? After a minute or so of trying and failing to make the proper connection, he grinned and nodded like he’d figured it out.

“Ahhh, so you’re one of those people that’ll pretend to be a couple with their friend to get discounted drinks? Not really a thing I do, but since it’s you, I’ll consider it.”

Hey, why did you look so dejected when he said that? That’s what you meant, right?

Right?

“No, I meant…..” your eyes left his face in favor of lingering on the floor. Those words combined with your expression finally made it all slide into place, and the poor man could only blurt out with a feeling of intense guilt,

“Oh, oh, I’m so so sorry, I didn’t know you were asking—!”

You did end up going together that night, and it was pretty fun, too.

As a partner, Chilchuck is focused on providing stability. As much as he can act like a sleaze sometimes, he doesn’t seem like he does a lot of casual dating. He’d probably feel too old for that kind of thing either way.

When you’ve been together for a while, he may even offer to share finances and move in together. He says it would be “economical” and all, but you can also tell he clearly wants to be with you daily, and that makes you happy.

Protective as all hell. When he gets a little tipsy, he may get snappy with anyone he even thinks is looking at you the wrong way.

“Hey!” From beside you, you heard your lover’s voice slur. “You got a problem with my man?”

A sigh escaped your lips. “Chilchuck, he’s just collecting the empty glasses.”

Your words must not have either not reached him or not even affected him, because he continued to glare up at the waiter with a hazy, unfounded suspicion that truly only a drunk Chilchuck could possess.

A hand on his waist pulling him into your collar made quick work of sating him, a smile gracing your lips when he groaned into the fabric of your shirt. “We’ll leave soon, okay hon? Soon we can go home.”

Briefly, his half lidded eyes opened wider if only to look up at your face as if you were an illusion, something too good to be true.

“I get to take a pretty thing like you home with me….?”

Lord, for such a serious person, he really could make you laugh sometimes. It was probably just the lighting, but you hoped that the redness of his face really did intensify at your smile as you gazed down at him.

“You can every single night, Chil. Always.”

#ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ fallow’s works!#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #chilchuck tims #chilchuck tims x reader

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lizstory · 1 year

Text

The Party

Ethan Landry x Bisexual Reader

preghostface

summary- Anika, Tara, and Mindy all force you to join them to attend the halloween party. You had no idea what would happen that night but you weren't disappointed with the outcome.

word count- 1.8k

A/n- thank you for over 300 notes! I don't really like how this turned out but it was just a little cute idea I thought of. I will be writing more Ethan landry!

--------

"You like her?" Chad asked, his eyes staying on the road as he turned his wheel

"Shut up" Ethan looked around.

Chad chuckled. "Dude, we are in this car alone. Who is going to eavesdrop?"

Ethan bounced his leg. He had a crush on you since you met when you moved from Woodsboro, and you have gotten pretty close since then. You were his closest friend out of the 5 people who moved from Woodsboro. You were embedded in his head when he laid eyes on you. Your laugh, your smile, the way you scrunch your nose when you giggle. He noticed every little detail about you.

"You should make a move on her at the party" Chad tapped Ethan on the thigh.

Ethan shook his head. "What if she rejects me."

Chad scoffed. "Oh please, you guys were made for each other."

—---

Anika, Mindy, and Tara all wanted to convince you to attend the Halloween party. You were stressed out from school the past few weeks, and they all decided you needed some time off. They barged into your room, Anika holding up two costumes.

"What are you doing?" You asked

Tara sighed, seeing that you were once again doing schoolwork. She admired your work ethic, but the amount you did was self-destructive. "Come to the Halloween party with us tonight" She jumped onto your bed to lay beside you.

You shook your head. "I have to study."

Mindy groaned. "You always have time for that; this is a one-time thing" She grabbed your shoulders and slightly shook you.

Anika smiled, hanging the two costumes she brought to your closet door. "I brought two costumes I think you'll look hot in."

You stared at both costumes, rolling your eyes when you realized what they were: "You guys just brought two short, slim dresses."

Anika nodded. "It's the accessories that complete the costume."

The dresses were one black and one white. Knowing your friends and how last minute all of this was, the "accessories" they brought were predictable. "Please don't tell me you brought cat ears for the black one and angel wings for the white one." Your eyes averted to each of them, only to be met with cheeky smiles. "For fuck sake."

"Ethan will be there."

The girls always teased you for having a "crush" on Ethan, but you always denied it when they asked. He was just a friend. That's what you always told yourself, but you did catch moments where he was all you were thinking about. You felt safe with his company whenever you two went on a study session together. Whenever you hugged him bye, you didn't want to let go. They always said your smile was brighter with him, but you convinced yourself that was them just playing cupid. But now you find yourself staring at the dresses, imagining the things Ethan would tell you when he saw you in them.

"I'll try them on," you reluctantly agreed.

All the girls cheered. Anika pushed you towards your bathroom with the black dress firsts. You look in the mirror and undress. You didn't hate how you looked, but also, there was one thing apart of your body that you hoped the dress would cover. Slipping into the dress was an ease, the fabric hugging your body nicely. You stared at your thighs. The dress didn't cover up the scar you had. You stared at it in the mirror, grazing your fingers over it.

"Amber what the fuck” you screamed

Amber laughed, she had just revealed herself as Ghostface, and now she straddled you with a knife scraping your thigh. "You are so gullible" She stuck the blade straight in the middle of your thigh.

"Y/n? You ok?" Tara knocked

Your head shot straight to the door, Tara's voice returning you to reality. "Yea, I'm good," you coughed, opening the door.

Mindy and Anika both squealed in unison. Tara smiled at the outfit. She scanned your body, her eyes stopping at the apparent wound. Although it's healed, a light purple and brown stayed on your skin. A permanent reminder of everything they went through in Woodsboro.

"If you don't feel comfortable wearing it, we can always find something else" Tara gave you a weak smile.

You shook your head. "It's fine. I can't let it control me forever."

—-----

You let the girls go to the party first. It was last minute, so you still had to get ready. Anika left the dress and the accessories. You sat in front of the mirror, putting on the makeup you thought would complement the costume. You quickly finished the final touches, grabbed your phone, and headed to the party. The streets were packed, people laughing and yelling. New York was something else. You arrived at the door. It was already wide open. Students were drinking, dancing, and smoking, and couples were making out here and there. Anika saw you through the crowd. She quickly walked over to bring you inside.

"Y/n!" she cheered, grabbing your hand and making you follow her. "Here, I poured you a drink, and don't worry, Mindy was watching over it the whole time."

Mindy nodded. "Scared off any creeps."

You chug down the drink, wiping off any drops that fell down your lips. Anika laughed, pulling both her girlfriend and you to dance. The girls were right, you didn't go out much, and it wasn't wrong to care for your education, but a night out here and there never hurt anyone. You felt alive again, the music blasting through your ears, vibrations going through your body.

Ethan stared at you on the dance floor. Chad was grabbing both of them drinks. He was going to ask Tara if you were coming since she was the first person they ran into, but you immediately caught his attention. It was impossible for you not to. His heart crashed against his chest as if trying to escape watching how you moved. He always loved seeing you having fun, but this was a different kind of you. He had never seen you in this type of clothing and letting yourself go.

"They actually brought her," Chad smiled, handing his roommate the red cup.

Ethan turned his head, disregarding that he was staring at you. "Yea," he mumbled against the cup.

"You were checking her out weren't you?"

"What?no!" Ethan rambled

You stepped off the dance floor, catching your breath. Although it was a cold night, all the body heat near you made breathing somewhat difficult. You leaned up against the wall, still watching Tara closely. She was getting wasted too quickly.

"Hey"

Ethan stood in front of you, handing you a cup. You shook your head, assuming it was alcohol.

"It's water," he reassured you.

You didn't distrust Ethan, so you grabbed the cup without question. You wanted to giggle at his outfit. He had shown you a couple of days beforehand a "project" he was working on, but you didn't know it was a Halloween costume.

"It turned out nice" You looked at him up and down.

Ethan felt the need to turn around. Your eyes grazing over his body gave him shivers he hadn't felt before. "thanks. " He stared at your ears, then your entire outfit. "You look beautiful," he mumbled, hoping you didn't fully hear him.

Before you could respond, people behind Ethan nudged him closer, your back pushed against the wall, and now Ethan was hovering over your figure. He quickly pulled away, apologizing over and over again.

You laughed at the redness creeping to his ears. He was so cute. "Can you hold my cup? I'll be back."

Ethan nodded, grabbing the cup from your hands, and watched as you walked away. He hadn't realized the length of the dress until he saw you trying to pull it down. He wanted to walk behind you to ensure no one was looking where they shouldn't be.

You closed the door to the bathroom. You needed to splash some water on your face. It was getting too hot in the house. You grabbed paper towels, dabbing your face off, making sure the least amount of makeup was being removed. Adjusting the dress, you stepped back to get a good look at yourself. You hadn't realized how much of your scar was exposed, you were drinking and dancing, so your focus wasn't on covering up the mark. Your finger traced over the edges.

"I really didn't think you'd be that easy to fool. A few kisses and I love you, and you believed every bit of it" Ambers's face came close to yours, the drops of blood on her face falling to yours. She placed the knife on your jaw, glazing it down your neck.

Knocks were banging on the door, you opened it, and a boy holding his private parts rushed you. Before he could undress, you closed the door and marched outside. You needed fresh air. Ethan watched you storm out. Your face looked distressed, your body moving too quickly like it was trying to escape something. He followed outside, seeing you sitting on the sidewalk. He lightly treads over, careful not to scare you.

"Are you ok?" He asked, sitting next to you

You looked away momentarily, making sure no tears fell, then turned back, forcing a smile. "I'm ok just needed some fresh air."

Ethan took in a deep breath. The air between the two was thick. Nothing seemed like it could cut it. "Y/n," he said, catching your attention, "I'm glad you came tonight."

You smiled. "Me too."

He loved your smile. Your eyes lit up whenever you did. He had to admit he wished he was the only one that could see your smile.

"Ethan, have I ever told you that I'm obsessed with your smile"

He froze. His smile? You were obsessed with it. It was nothing special. In fact, he hated his smile.

"I always get lost in it" Without thinking, you leaned in closer.

Ethan's breathing hitched. "Y/n," he whispered. He could feel your breathing against his lips.

You instantly pulled away. Your heart was beating out of your chest. You didn't even know what you were expecting. You two were just friends-

Ethan placed a hand on your jaw, forcing you to look his way and immediately locking his lips with yours. You turned your head, allowing more movement. You placed your arm around his neck, pulling him closer.

He pulled away, placing his forehead on yours. "I like you."

You chuckled. "I like you too."

He had never felt this sort of joy. His stomach was twisting, and tingles invaded his hands. He pulled you down to the ground lying next to him. You burst out laughing at the sudden boldness he was experiencing. You enjoyed it. You wrapped your finger with his, holding tight. You didn't want him to let go. He turned his head, leaving kisses all over your cheek.

"Hey, have you seen Y/n?" Tara tapped Chad on his shoulder

He leaned against the wall, staring at the opened door and his friends outside. They were laughing, hands intertwined with each other. "She's fine," he said, pointing in their direction.

#ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry #scream 6 ethan #scream 6 #fanfic #fanfiction #scream 6 fanfic #scream franchise #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #reader insert #x reader #scream 6 imagines

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box-dwelling · 8 months

Text

Honestly one of my biggest Wrightworth fanfic pet peeves is people erasing Phoenix's bisexuality. There's kinda two flavours.

There's saying he isn't attracted to women and only dated Dahlia/Iris which closeted, which is just incorrect. He constantly makes jokes about sex with women. He's often shown to be attracted to them. I honestly don't think there's much to this take beyond bi erasure and maybe some people projecting which I can understand but still its a shame.

Then there's saying that the only man he's ever been into is Edgeworth and this one just really rubs me the wrong way because that's just not really how sexuality works. It's kind of a weird trope that has a weird purity complex around it and while I don't think it would be in anyway inaccurate to say he was likely his awakening, I think it's kind of naive to think Phoenix's never had any inclination towards other men especially as we get later in the game timeline. Like feenie era, absolutely a possibility. Trilogy era, maybe but only because he had hard Edgeworth blinders on and was completely unwilling to consider anyone else. But 7yg and beyond? No fucking way. I will not believe for a single second that Beanix was not being a queer little bitch. Not even just as my krisnix properganda. Just look at him. Chaotic Bisexuality incarnate.

The later trope does play a little better for Edgeworth because that attorney does definitely seem ace and if we presume he's on the demi side of things then given this is Miles god damn Edgeworth who does not do particularly well in personal relationships with many people other than Phoenix, it could well be that he actually hasn't felt any sexual or romantic feelings for anyone else before.

Idk just let him be bi. He can just be bi.

#ace attorney #wrightworth #narumitsu #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #beanix

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undead-supernova · 8 days

Text

Right Here, Right Now

Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 (TBC)

Masterlist

plot: corroded coffin's eddie munson agrees to an interview for the first time in three years, alongside a new album that is most definitely about you.

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: talks of familial death, depressing lyricism, angst

wc: 4.1k

note: I also wrote all of the lyrics in this chapter and made the images above of the album's cover and tracklist. I feel so proud of how much my hard work is paying off. DON'T USE THESE LYRICS ANYWHERE ELSE THANK YEW

Just one more mile.

You could do it. No, really, you could.

Tour really was coming up in the next six months and you had to build up your stamina now or else you weren’t going to survive. Things really were better now, though. You’d gotten rid of your personal trainer and switched to someone who did not suggest that you stop eating. It seemed like Sophia was a better fit anyways. If anything, she told you to eat more.

So here you were, on your poor attempt at a night run.

And you promised yourself that you wouldn’t think about him and how his album was dropping any day now.

Definitely, definitely not.

It was nearly midnight anyways, a few out from the witching hour but that’s not how it went for you. If anything, you were cursed with the threat of midnight being the worst hour of each day. It was like some switch flicked on and you were a mess of a woman, splayed out in bed and thinking. Furiously scribbling in a notebook as you lost to the thoughts in your head. Curled up in a ball in the shower, the white noise perfect for your never-ending thinking.

And who could forget sitting in your kitchen with a bowl of Kraft mac and cheese. Don’t forget the thinking.

Thinking about Eddie. His voice. The way he was willing to give you more than you deserved without any rhyme or reason. How desperate you felt to reconnect, to apologize profusely and beg for some semblance of forgiveness.

And now you were here, trying to outrun your problems while watching the headlights passing the windowpane.

Tried to stop thinking about how at any moment, Eddie could show up and you’d fall into his arms without any question. You’d tell him it didn’t matter. None of it did. And he’d say he wasn’t mad anymore and that he missed you and then you’d go on living like you once did.

Before you could lose yourself to wishing on headlights, a notification popped up on your phone.

Spotify exclusive: Listen to Corroded Coffin’s new album now!

Without any warning, you lost your footing on the treadmill and fell backwards. Hit your head on the floor, stunned. Let the pain throb in your head for only a few seconds before you dragged your body upright and clicked on the album.

Your eyes scanned the track list, heart pumping incessantly as a bead of blood rushed down your forehead.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Quickly, you threw yourself into the shower to wash off before grabbing headphones and padding into your walk-in closet. Situated yourself in the back corner, your body fitting snuggly in isolation.

And as you pressed that green play button, your grief washed over you at every line you called your favorite.

Welcome Home

“Dad’s disappearing acts and the award-winning smile

saying ‘sure, I’ll be comin’ back’

Well, I guess we’re both suckers for a little hope every once in a while

And, mom, is that why you stayed? Waited up praying, decaying all alone

Just so one day, you’d be able to say, ‘Welcome home’.”

Fever

“How could you ever fight a fever? God dammit, she’s more than a flame

Got her pinning me down, locked inside her heat wave

Sweat dripping, flesh gripping, I melt from her gaze

Just one more round, promise I’ll behave

Come on, darling, why don’t you set me ablaze?”

The Cost

“I ruined all the plans that hadn’t been made

Loving you as the bellbirds erupted in a haunted chorus

Rosy pink clouds turned into showers of blood and hate

I’m trying, baby, I’m trying to find a way out for us

But isn’t that the cost, darling?

Isn’t that the price of being with me?”

Tailor-Made

“We’re the only ones walking through the neighborhood

Sweetheart, don’t you think I know how to hide?

I’d never speak it, but I’d buy every house if I could

Marry you in secret, raise our kids benevolent and kind.”

Rose Petals (Interlude)

“Take a boy-turned-man, crucifying himself at your altar

Convince him your devoted infatuation will never falter

Paint his skies a vibrant pink then turn him into sheet metal

Leave him bleeding out, fractured, scattered like rose petals.”

As Good As Dead

“What’s more cliché than a man saying he’d die without your love

At least if I had an open vein, I’d feel something better than being numb

‘There’s no such thing as fate’ my thoughts screamed so fucking loud

But there was comfort in blind faith, that ill-fated crowd

Had a grip on your throat. Shit, maybe it always has

But now that I’m as good as dead, I can’t help my bitter laugh.”

A Mirage of Lovers

“There sat Elizabeth and Al,

on the front porch of their first house

Blind with momentary affection

And I swear when I looked at you,

I thought you were a lasting confection

But I swear there’s a mirage of lovers

Blurring in its reflection.”

Deluge

“It’s all there in my head, all in disarray

A cesspool of memories, a desperation for change

Fought for my life, thought it was so I could see you

Mother, I know that you’re not here, I’m still trying to heal

But please tell me now that love has always been real

Yet I wonder if you ever believed it yourself."

Hotwire

“Al loved a nice Hotwire

Pull ‘em apart, let them fray, twist ‘em till they go insane

And, yeah, I guess everyone I love is the same.”

Fallen Hero (Interlude)

“Every time I pick up a pen

It’s destined to dry out

And I refuse to go outside, refuse to call my friends

What’s the point when they’ll never understand?

I’ll leave myself behind just to have a pinch of hope

But I come back down from daydreams covered in blood

Just gotta learn to change, learn to change

Learn to accept being the fallen hero."

Intangible

“There’s beauty in the ways of intangibility

Like the touch of a woman in blushing gardens far away

The curve of her hips blooming in shades of futility

Laughter billowing like smoke lingering in the archway

And there’s places she will never be able to evade

A bouquet, a veil, a lover lying await in the shade.”

Out of My Hands

“If I could hear your knock, brought back by my revery

Each rap, each tap still committed to my memory

But that’s up to you, darling, it’s all up to you

And it’s the end I’m stalling, just for you

And I love you, baby. I love you

I hope you know I always will

Even if it’s out of my hands.”

Wayne

“There’s a new family in the trailer, I really wish I could believe it

'Cause once I thought we'd buckle under the weight of all that labor

No more scrounging up pennies for another first-aid kit

And you’re not here, Wayne. No, you’re not here.”

Lighter

“Give me back my lighter, any excuse to see you

Let it flicker, sit by the flame from sunrise ’til noon

Come running back, consider your exile foregone

I choose you in the low glow of dusk, love you ‘til dawn.”

Makeup starting to smudge, an outrageously expensive crop top and skirt still on, you threw off your pumps and let your aching feet lead you to the kitchen. Your black, white, and neon orange plaid outfit reflected vibrantly off the refrigerator light as you decided instead to make crescent rolls. Why the fuck not?

You were absolutely exhausted. Sleep hadn’t been an option for you in the last twenty-four hours, what with Corroded Coffin’s album keeping you awake and the promo you’d done all day. When you’d finally arrived back to your small California home, you were irritated and in desperate need of some food.

However, as the oven began to preheat, your jumbled thoughts kept piling on top of one another. The fog was too loud for you, having to rush to your living room to grab one of your many notebooks and pens. Sat at the island and just journaled.

It was hard enough knowing that Eddie had written all of that for you. About you. The disappointment, the self-loathing. The guilt of not feeling good enough. Searching through the past mistakes of his parents to make sense of the way you fell apart. As if that was the inevitable ending to any story he was destined to begin.

You felt sick.

And even though you ate every single crescent roll, your words just sunk into the page. You could’ve sworn a third of the notebook itself was smeared in grease and flakes and the intense shame rising in your chest. It was everything you’d hated about the last six months and more, all the goddamn childish emotions and wails of what was fair and what wasn’t. As if this hadn’t been your decision in the first place.

Enough was enough when you finished your plate.

“Okay,” you mumbled to yourself before letting out a sound of frustration. “Distraction. Now.”

Grabbing your laptop, you threw yourself on your couch and logged onto YouTube. Maybe you’d watch a deep dive on an amusement park. Catch up on some commentary. Look up that one video of baby sloths talking that usually had you crying from affection.

But there on the front page was an interview with Corroded Coffin on the new album. There’d already been over a million views despite being posted that morning. Something pooled in your abdomen as you saw the thumbnail, all the members posing together.

And you knew you shouldn’t.

But fuck it, what’s a little more salt to your never-ending wounds?

As you clicked on the video, some interviewer you hadn’t heard of popped up smiling before he spoke.

“Hi, my name is Marcus Sanderson and today I’m interviewing one of the most successful metal bands in recent history, Corroded Coffin. They have been hitting commercial success lately, after their incredible album, Fire Shroud, held electronic influences which have begun to redefine and evolve the genre for the modern age.

"Their most recent album, Elizabeth & Al, has only propelled them forward. I was given the rare opportunity to talk to Eddie, Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie about not only their writing and producing process, but their personal lives.

“First, we’ll open up with a cover of one of the band’s favorite songs of all time, ‘Solitude’ by Black Sabbath.”

It cut to the band and you couldn’t help a frustrated whine leaving your mouth at seeing him again. And, Jesus Christ, Eddie was fit like a daydream, donning a black Guns N’ Roses t-shirt with dark jeans and a long-sleeved plaid shirt tied at the waist. A shiny leather jacket, some custom-made Converse with Corroded Coffin across the bottom. Rings and bracelets galore, an obsidian choker hanging low on his neck. Black eyeliner that had wings along his lower lash line.

You didn’t think you’d ever felt so fucking weak for him.

He stood without his guitar for once, his full attention on his singing. Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie were all decked out too, makeup mirroring Eddie’s. All looking refreshed and well-rested. You noticed there was someone else there in the background playing the flute and as they started the song with a gentle solo, it sounded ethereal.

“My name, it means nothing. My fortune is less

My future is shrouded in dark wilderness.”

Eddie avoided the camera, eyes darting around the room. You could see his fingers shaking, white-knuckled around the microphone despite the stability of the stand.

“Sunshine is far away, clouds linger on

Everything I possessed, now they are gone

They are gone.”

Absentmindedly chewing on your lip, you couldn't help but let it sink in. This wasn't just the band's favorite Black Sabbath song—this was Eddie's. He'd told you how the song ripped him apart. How he'd rather die than to ever relate to it personally.

“Oh, where can I go to and what can I do?

Nothing can please me, only thoughts are of you

You just left when I begged you to stay.”

He leaned back as he began to change the notes of the lyrics, his voice building into a belt. Like it was a wail, like he was the most furious man alive.

“I’ve not stopped crying since you went away

You went away…”

The instrumental sounded, the flute having its own solo. Extending the moment, extending the devastation that was demolishing your soul.

Eddie was crying now, wiping the corners of his eyes in the background. Smearing his eyeliner like he didn't care, nose tinged pink through the makeup. And when he came back to the mic, you could see the pain sitting in his eyes. All glassy, all excruciatingly fragile.

“The world is a lonely place, you’re on your own

Guess I will go home, sit down and mourn

Crying and thinking is all that I do

Memories I have remind me of you

Of you.”

The footage blurred, fading before cutting to Eddie sitting alone in a chair with the interviewer opposite him. Like they were in a house, all casual and at ease.

“We’re starting off by talking to the front man, Eddie Munson,” Marcus said to the camera, smiling before turning his attention back to Eddie. “It’s nice to see you, man. You look great.”

Eddie chuckled. “Great to be back.”

Marcus nodded. “That cover of ‘Solitude’ was incredible, by the way.”

You could see some color flood into Eddie’s cheeks. “Ah, thanks. Thank you.”

“Do you feel like you’ve been in a period of solitude?”

“Uh, to be honest, kinda. I know people are, like, freaking out just ‘cause I haven’t been in public.”

“Where’ve you been?”

“Just making sure I’m focused on the work,” He gestured to himself before mimicking a pushing motion “and not on the external stuff, you know?”

“As we all should. Would you tell me a bit about your new album? Personally, I’m curious as to why you specifically named it Elizabeth & Al.”

“Yeah, uh, those are my parents’ names. My mom passed away when I was a kid and my dad…well, he wasn’t the best. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about what happens when two people who love each other just end up falling apart. Like, you just feel like you’re as good as dead, you know? And I wondered if my parents had that sort of crash and burn before she died.

“I don’t talk about it much, but my dad had a lot of issues with addiction and gambling and crime after my mom died. I didn’t grow up with the generic parent bleep. It was more like I was his friend than a son and sometimes I was a business partner. And, I don’t know, I grew up thinking that love could’ve been so simple if he gave just a little bit of effort. But I still thought he and my mom had a simple love.”

“I’m guessing they didn’t.”

Eddie let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, no. My dad was never really good at maintaining, like, any kind of control. And it’s so weird ‘cause all he ever did was try to have control over things. But it was self-sabotage, I think. He was never in control over his life. It felt so predestined.”

“What about your mom?”

He shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I think she just wanted love. Like, grasping for that shred of love that he provided every once in a while. ‘Cause it’s not like my dad was incapable of love. Just incapable of giving her everything. Maybe I’m projecting now, but you know what I mean.”

“So, is this album from the perspective of your parents?”

“Not exactly,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “They’re kinda just the reflection, you know? Like what I say on ‘A Mirage of Lovers’. Our parents end up being a kind of mirror we hold up to ourselves. And I think it’s up to us to decide if we’ll continue that cycle or not—especially in the face of heartbreak and loss. ‘Cause you can easily sit there and accuse yourself of being like your father or your mother. But ultimately, you’re just you. You’re not your parents.”

“And you wrote all of this within the last six months, correct?”

“Yeah, it was weird. Like, I just couldn’t stop writing. I was in such a dark place and the only thing I did was sit and write. And the band is so bleeping incredible. I showed them what I was thinking, and they were super, super receptive to it. And we got to work and got it done faster than anything else we’ve made.”

Marcus smiled, something genuine and real, shaking his head in disbelief. “That timeline really does shock me, just because it’s so seamless. There’s all these tiny details and every song just flows into one another.”

“Thanks, man. That means a lot. We kinda thought that having all the songs connect was sorta like, um, a stream of consciousness, essentially.” He started gesturing with his hands and you knew he was getting more comfortable. It almost made you smile. “Like, these thoughts all run together in a big loop. Like having one of those corkboards with all the evidence and red strings, you know? All of it just ends up running together and there’s no concrete answer. It just is.

“And, man. Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie are just the best. They know me better than almost anyone and they seemed to automatically get what they needed to do. Just, like, boom, boom, boom. One after the other, we just got everything right. No one else helped produce this album and I think it shows just how much we’ve learned and evolved over our careers.”

You felt something freeze inside you when the interviewer mentioned your name.

Eddie tried his best to seem unaffected, but you knew he was starting to squirm. You could see the top of his knee as it bounced.

“Are you two still together?” Marcus asked. “What’s the story there?”

Eddie’s eyes wandered the room, probably trying to calculate the best way to go. You selfishly wanted him to say nothing about the breakup, to refuse to confirm that it was truly over.

He cleared his throat before scratching his temple.

“My relationship with her is private and just between us. It always has. But I guess since I finally have a chance to say whatever I want to say, I want to make it very clear that the way the media has treated her has been just disgusting and unwarranted. She is not some plastic, shiny doll for everyone to point and laugh at."

Eddie then straightened his posture as he looked straight into the camera. "Oh, and let me be clear. If you’re sitting there talking about her bleeping body, then you are a piece of bleeping bleep and I hope you burn in hell.”

Just like that, Marcus Sanderson moved on, the shot cutting away to a shot of the rest of the band sitting on a couch. But you weren’t listening anymore. Your head was swirling with a concoction of disbelief and epiphanies. Something…clicked.

Because you’d never had a partner mention you on a public scale. Never had a partner willing to scream your love from the top of the world and still retain privacy. Never had someone so willing to defend you despite your faults. Despite your arguments and downfalls.

And you were realizing that you…had done none of that for Eddie.

You’d sat there, in a dreamy haze because Eddie gave you everything he had. But had you really done any of those things back? Had you given him an ounce of what he gave you?

You thought back to the AMAs, when you walked around your answers. Nearly yelled at him for standing up for you. Dropped his hand when he wanted to tell you how proud he was. Hell, you even broke up with him because of what other people said. He thought you wanted nothing from him, that you weren’t interested anymore.

You never even said you loved him to his face.

You treated him exactly the way all your past partners treated you.

Eddie Munson had given you his world and you’d given him a fraction.

“I fucked up,” you whispered before you really processed what was happening. “I FUCKED UP!” you screeched, scrambling to stand up and check your phone.

1:13am.

Immediately dropped it, watching it slide under the couch.

“FUCK!” you screamed again.

Dropping to your knees and enduring the carpet burn, you reached down and felt around for your phone. But you froze as you felt something else, something smaller in size. Pulled it out, recognizing Eddie’s lighter immediately.

You flicked the lighter on, only encountering sparks the first two times. But when you watched it transform into a flame, something in your chest began to ache. It was the kindling of a once-wet fireplace, the first stroke of fire you’d felt in months. Teardrops fell freely down your chest as you found the will to fight.

Fight for what you knew you could never live without.

Fight for Eddie.

Give me back my lighter, any excuse to see you

Come running back, consider your exile foregone

Without any thought, you stuffed it into your top, found your phone, and popped up to search for some socks. Barely registered the color before yanking them on. You didn’t care how dressed up you were or how oily your face felt. How exhausted your body was or the residue of a crescent roll sticking to the side of your mouth.

You had to get to wherever Eddie was, and you had to get there now. If you didn’t talk to him tonight, you didn’t know if you’d make it to daylight.

But where was he?

The thought made you pause, hands shaking as you thought.

And before the panic could completely consume you, you called the one person who seemed to know everything.

“Woah, hello there.”

“Jeff.”

“Hey, long time no see. Where you been?”

“Jeff, I’m sorry, but I really need you to tell me if Eddie is in California right now.”

“Uh, yeah, he is.” You tugged your white Keds on, breathing a sigh of relief. “He’s been holed up in his place for the last few days. Why?”

“I just need to talk to him,” you said, nearly out of breath as you started sprinting to the garage. “I need to talk to him.”

“Ever thought about calling?”

“Nope.”

Jeff’s laughter rang through the receiver. “You’re crazy, girl. I’ll give you that one.” A huff left your nose as you climbed into your car. “You gonna tell him you’re in love with him?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Finally.”

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, dreading any answer he’d give.

“Not at all. Just don’t leave him hanging this time, okay? He hasn’t been okay in a really long time.”

“Neither have I. I’m hoping to fix this and let it stay fixed.”

“Go get your man.”

As the garage door lifted, you noticed the pouring rain.

Of course it started fucking storming within the last hour and a half you’d been home. Of fucking course.

“Bye, Jeff,” you said quickly.

“Bye, girl!”

As you filed out of your driveway, a black SUV was already pulling out behind you. The protection was part of the job. You knew this. But sometimes, you just wanted to tell Scott that you had shit to do on your own.

But there was no time for this.

You just continued to drive, letting the soft hum of “The Long And Winding Road” by The Beatles lead you right back to the very place you knew you belonged.

“Scott,” James acknowledged.

“James.”

It felt like a showdown, Scott stepping in front of you at the gates. As soon as you’d arrived, you’d been prevented from pulling into the driveway. And it was James who’d crossed his arms over his dauntingly ripped chest, staring you down like you’d committed a crime.

You couldn’t blame him.

“What’s the situation?”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “I need to talk to Eddie.”

“It’s two in the morning. Kid finally fell asleep for once.”

“Let her in, James,” Scott said. “They’re people. Just let them figure it out on their own without us.”

“I really want to fix this,” you explained, earning a lifted eyebrow from James. “He’s everything to me and I know I screwed up. I know that. But I want to at least try to mend this. I’m a fucking idiot. Just…please.” Your eyes began to water. “Please let me try.”

James gave you a hard stare for what felt like ten minutes. Like he was assessing the risk.

But then he opened the gate, stepping to the side.

“Thank you,” you breathed, rushing past him to the door.

You knocked quite rapidly, your heartbeat matching the pace. Heard it pulse in your ears. Teetered on each foot as the adrenaline continued to catapult you further into madness. Waiting and waiting and waiting until—

There he was, barely visible in the glow of the front porch light, eyes squinting. Messy curls frizzing, wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. No accessories, no socks on his feet.

It seemed like he finally registered it was you when he straightened his posture. Eddie gazed down at your body and back up again, eyes widening with every passing second.

“Hey,” you finally whispered.

“Hey.”

bless @strangergraphics for always having the sickest dividers.

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #Eddie Munson x female reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar!Eddie x reader #rockstar!Eddie x you #modern!Eddie x you #boyfriend!Eddie x reader

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katz-chow · 8 months

Note

Coming from puff puffs blog 🤧🤥 hope you don't mind 😝🙈🙉 ur also totally gaining a new follower..

WHAT ARE YOUR HEADCANONS ON SOAP? 🥰🥰🥰 unless you've already done this before then I am so sorry 😓

relationship with soap headcanons

warnings: sfw, fluff, some angst, relationship arguments, family trauma mentioned, religious trauma, homophobia, bad dad

a/n: my fav cod man is soap so this took my top priority!!! i think about this man a lot, 09 and reboot version. reboot is my fav though, realistically, he's who i would actually get with. here’s all the things i’ve thought about him, there’s probably more tbh… OK OK HERE :))

childhood hcs

johnny soap mactavish comes from a large family of 5 siblings, he's the second oldest. it's elsie, him, blair, callum, and olivia.

growing up in a family of mainly girls got him on that respect women juice. he would always have to make sure his younger siblings are ok and aren't you know, being bullied. his parents were adamant on 2 year age gaps between them all.

his cousin, jack, was an sas operator and that was what made him want to join. they had to call security forces to arrest him out at some point because he kept sneaking in to watch them do stuff lol

elsie left for uni with her bf to live in soho when johnny was 16, the same year he would talk to recruiters around his hometown, driving hours and then getting rejected the same day due to his age

9th grade (year 10) chemistry got him obsessed with stem and its *explosive* results. he aced chemistry and then took advanced chemistry and physics just because he loved it so much

after this, as soon as he turned 18, he went to sign his papers THEN graduated school (he's just like me fr). his mom was so worried for him, especially when her sister told her about the danger that jack would get himself into. in the end, he promised he'll always call her and his siblings

his dad's an ass, hes an alcoholic, a cheater, a *bitch*... he would always take the kids to church on sundays and twisted the religion into a reason for his behavior. claiming that johnny's mom being at home was just "their culture"

she makes a killer shepherd's pie though

always had had some sort of love-hate relationship with the catholic faith. on one hand, it was nice to know there's always at least someone watching out for him, but after hearing the constant belittlement from his father, claiming he wasn't "manly enough" for not willing to give his life up in the service, he started to resent the “all merciful”.

he ended up blaming god for all his faults, letting him take accountability. this especially happened when he got diagnosed with adhd when he was 17, his dad didn’t believe in mental health. his mom was only a bit better about it, they both refused meds for him.

he's bisexual, leans towards women though. found this out after a truth or dare game in junior year (year 12) and some beers in a closet

at one point, callum acccidently let it slip at dinner when johnny had first moved out that he had met a cute guy and their dad screamed and yelled at the whole family, especially their mom, about "raising a fucking whore of a son, dragging the family down to shite"

blair called and told johnny a few days later and johnny rushed his work as quickly as possible and begged his chain of command for a few days off to go back home to his family

his family gets loud…like really loud. there’s 7 people what do you expect?

it gets especially bad when it’s sunday morning and you gotta get 7 people awake and looking their church best for an hour and a half 😔

johnny is the quickest everything there is, which has its downsides too. he could run and swim the fastest in the family, but he was also the quickest eater…meaning he’s on dish washing duty. he’s quick at that too so by the time everyone’s finished, he’s washed all the other dishes that took to make dinner

broke his arm chasing a cat through someone’s yard (he was 14)

had a goat scream and kicked him because he wanted to give it a hug

he got a part time job at a local bakery in 10th grade (year 11). the pay wasn’t much but neither was the work really. olivia, who was 9 at the time, made him promise that he’ll get her a doll to have tea with. her tea set had 4 cups but only one of her, so she must get another one to join her! he kept his promise; he ended up getting three dolls for her

he can make amazing soda bread and brioche loafs now too, still keeps a starter from the owner of the bakery to this day

he had a mountain bicycle that he would take everywhere. had room behind his seat for packages and his backpack, which he would tie down. that thing had such a loud bell too, would ring constantly to “let people know hes coming and get ready”

was terrified of selkies for some reason, always had the window closed and made callum sleep by it while he slept by the door

wasn’t much of a troublemaker, but would get into trouble with his adventurous heart.

got lost in the woods once and after a while of fake courage, he sat down and cried until elsie found him. he was 20 yards (13 meters) away from the clearing 😭😭

laugh at that guys, mf was 15

personality & relationship hcs

johnny is such a fun lover. he’s handsome yeah, but what makes ppl flaunt over him is his humor. he’s what jessica rabbit said “he makes me laugh”

such a charismatic and charming person, gets it from his dad. he could talk about just about anything, also the type to strike up a conversation with a stranger at the grocery store. then end up with their number and a date or helping them dog sit

this isn’t always a good thing though, one time before he was medicated, he would talk on and on, his story becoming incoherent due to the amount of self-interruptions he made, that a group of guys got so annoyed at that pub, they punched him.

he was young, 19, and couldn’t fight, so he didn’t win and came back to the barracks with a nasty black eye

he likes to be the big spoon, has to hold something in order to sleep

feel like he’s the type to wrap his arms around a pillow and lay on his stomach to sleep

speaking of sleeping, he HATES sleeping with socks on. he tried it one day and he just shivered at the feel of it, woke up and his socks were missing (he found them under the bed)

i also feel like he sleeps like a log, unmoving once he finds his comfort, i also think it's because he had to sleep in the same bed as his siblings at one point and he didn't want to wake them by moving, so he got accustomed to being a still sleeper

one time he accidentally got into a fight at a bar when a guy kept being misogynistic and was arrested and kept in jail for the whole night until one of his civilian friends bailed him out

johnny's the type to race you in the rain to the car. again, he's quick so he's always ahead of you but then he slips from the rain and ends up all wet and muddy and in the car.

his favorite thing to do is hear you laugh. he'll do anything to hear you laugh.

whenever you're sad, he'll purposely stub his toe or trip down the stairs or make you kiss his "owie" (a papercut) to get you to cheer up. like yeah it hurts like a fucking bitch but seeing you sad hurts more than a silly tumble

number one date event is city exploring and hopping. like cafe hopping, pub hopping, museum hopping, restaurant hopping, anything that makes you get up and get going with time to sit and chill at the same time.

feels like he can eat a lot, he's the type to eat your food if you end up not liking it or being too full

when he gets home from missions and the initial excitement of seeing you dies down, he also dies down and nap for hours until it's the middle of the night and he gets up to eat something.

he loves naps. feels like he needs a nap time every day if it was possible

he's a very kind lover, he's easy going so its not hard that sometimes people take advantage of this and push his buttons until he can't take it anymore

causes a huge blowup because he can have a nasty temper whenever he bottles stuff up and pushes things aside

not a physical manifestation of anger, but definitely a verbal anger, will say things he doesn't really mean just to say it and realize right after the words leave his lips that he fucked up

but he'll stake out in front of the guest bedroom in which you've locked yourself in until you come out and he gets the chance to forgive you

the type to stand in the rain and hold a sign saying sorry right outside your window, a very cheesy romcom style (gaz made him watch them)

he loves you more than anything and loves you even more than you can keep up with him and laugh at his jokes, no matter how awful they are

he wants 4 kids by the way

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percheduphere · 4 months

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So...Thoughts on the whole people thinking Sylvie is Aro-Ace? I can kinda see her being Aromantic, but with her mentioning she's more "hedonistic" than Loki and silently hinting that she's Bi too, can't really see her as Asexual. But what do you think?

LET'S TALK ABOUT SYLVIE'S SEXUALITY, HER RELATIONSHIPS WITH LOKI AND MOBIUS, & HER CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE SERIES NARRATIVE

Before I answer this, I think it's important to acknowledge that fictional characters exist for people's comfort and pleasure. I write original fiction, and I would hope that most artists believe in the right of the audience to interpret character to meet their personal needs. To me, canon is a sandbox. Everyone should play with it as they please and not hate on each other. There are more important things in life to worry about. Therefore, if Sylvie reads as Aro-Ace to you and that reading brings you joy, then she is.

This question inherently requires the need to talk about Sylki in this post. I predominantly analyze Lokius, so please, no hate! My number one rule is never yucking someone's yum. Furthermore, Sylvie plays a critical role in Loki's development and the philosophical thrust of the series, of which Mobius also contributes to as the other half of Loki's character arc equation (selflessness and sparing life [Mobius] + free will and revolution [Sylvie]). It would be biased and disingenuous to not acknowledge her contributions to the overarching narrative.

ARO-ACE INTERPRETATION

All right, your question! I can definitely can see Sylvie as being aro-ace. That's a legitimate interpretation based on how she responds to Loki's flirtation and romantic advances. It is also possible that she's an aromantic bisexual. This second possibility is more likely based on the text the audience is given.

THE CANON TEXT

Having said that, I think you're curious about what the source material is trying to say about Sylvie's character and how that influences her sexuality. I believe it's important to remember that external behavior doesn't dictate how someone defines themselves. Closeting and disengagement from intimacy because of trauma are prime examples of this.

The train scene in S1E4 reads as earnest. Loki and Sylvie are both very lonely characters. In this moment, both are trying to connect with someone who finally understands them because they are the same. It's actually a lovely nod to the queer experience.

The dialogue, lighting, and costuming (blue, purple, pink) in this scene communicates they are both queer, specifically bisexual. The lighting and costuming combining to represent the bisexual pride flag is an example of queer subtext in film. The dialogue, while direct, is also written in such a way that it avoids explicitly stating "men and women." Sylvie later comments that the brief flings she indulges in during apocalypses helped her "keep going". She even specifies that apocalypses make people desperate. This suggests that Sylvie likely didn't need to do much wooing or charming like Loki would to obtain a sexual partner. Finally, the way Tom and Sophie play this scene is vulnerable. I therefore believe we can take this on-screen admission at face value.

So the question becomes, why does Sylvie respond to Loki's flirtations the way she does?

SYLVIE'S BACKGROUND

Sylvie was orphaned and forced to run all her life from a very young age. Her backstory is deeply tragic. To live in such a way means that she never had the opportunity to experience adolescence.

NOTE: This is honestly my favorite gif of Sylvie. She's so sweet and cute when she's happy. I can't get over the 5 stars on her employee badge. "Sylvie, can you refill the straws?" "Already did it!" The sweetheart.

Sylvie working at McDonald's accomplishes two things: it allows Disney to fulfill their advertising sponsorship agreement for the fast-food franchise, and it subtly alludes to Sylvie's need to live the adolescence she didn't get to. The TVA forced her into arrested development. She never had the chance to make friends and safely socialize on her own terms. The centuries of trauma have made trust, let alone romance, completely foreign to her.

Which is why, when Loki and Sylvie have romantic scenes, she is often awkward or, if not unreceptive, wary. Her previous flings, as she agrees with Loki, were "never real". Physical intimacy without emotional intimacy is a familiar dynamic for both characters. Their relationship with one another is their first experience of emotional intimacy (or at least attempt at it) outside of their families. The pursuit of this emotional intimacy feels safe to them because they are the same entity and thus they know each other's base nature (versus nurture!) to some degree.

The difference between them is that Sylvie has not experienced social rejection in the way Loki has (nurture!). She recognizes the wrongness with which the TVA has treated her. She knows the absolute atrocities the TVA has committed. She is determined to destroy them to free herself and all timelines. Sylvie is consequently more self-assured, more confident in what she wants and believes in, than Loki. In S2, Sylvie's clarity on desire is what allows her to help Loki articulate what he wants: his friends back, most especially Mobius.

In S1E1, Loki, still posturing before Mobius, describes himself as a "liberator". At this point in the story, we know that isn't true, but it will become true by the finale. This line of dialogue foreshadows Loki's trajectory as well as Sylvie's revealed motivation in S1E4: to liberate.

THE NEXUS EVENT

There are a variety of ways for viewers to interpret what exactly the Nexus Event was. The canon, within the text of Mobius's dialogue and verbal confirmation from the creators, is that Loki and Sylvie fell in love. Now, I'm not going to spend time arguing over other interpretations here, but I will say that regardless of whatever pairing or OT3 a viewer ships, the Nexus Event was ALSO definitively this: two Lokis in the same place, at the same time, not feeling lonely together.

And Sylvie, who had confessed to Loki she has no friends and has never really experienced joy, answers Renslayer with the number of positive memories she has:

Sylvie doesn't state it outright, but the subtext is clear that her one positive memory was her time with Loki on Lamentis. Indeed, moments later, Sylvie prunes herself in an effort to find and rescue him.

SYLVIE & MOBIUS

But being the harshly pragmatic individual she is, upon arrival and encountering Alioth, Sylvie assumes Loki didn't make it. I don't think Sylvie means what she says in a cruel way. I think she believes this because she is accustomed to disappointment and accordingly guards herself with cynicism. Sylvie's traumas, her difficulty with trust, her inexperience with intimate relationships, and her cynicism all combine to create an individual who may appear aro-ace when that may not necessarily be the case. Please note, however, that Sylvie being aro-ace or aro-bisexual may still be a possibility. My analysis here is based on what the text and subtext seem to be telling us about her character.

Notably, it is Mobius who is more optimistic about Loki's survival, wondering if Sylvie truly believes that Loki is dead.

This moment is brief, but it is significant because Mobius's optimism implies that not only does he believe in Loki, he also wants Loki to be alive. Sylvie is intelligent. She can read between the lines. We can also assume an off-screen conversation took place between them that confirmed for Sylvie Mobius's genuine care for Loki. When Sylvie informs Loki of this fact, I believe we get this:

Mobius was conservative in how Loki might interpret their relationship, extending a handshake before their goodbyes. Loki, on the heels of his conversation with Sylvie, chooses to hug him instead. The result: Mobius is delighted!

I've long pondered on why Mobius would say, "You're my favorite" to Sylvie. I believe this is why: she helped along their friendship and opened the gates for physical affection between them. This demonstrates that Sylvie cares enough for Loki to ensure he is secure in his bond with Mobius. It likely helped that Mobius did not deny the TVA's evil when she pointed it out to him, and that he did not hesitate to apologize to her for it.

Ironically, it is Mobius's optimism, especially in the potential of broken things to become something better (whether it is Loki himself or the TVA), that creates the fraught philosophical divide between Sylvie and Mobius (and Loki) with regards to the TVA in S2.

THE S1 FINALE

The S2 finale is where the narrative between Loki and Sylvie turns, and the plot pivots to the deepening relationship between Loki and Mobius. Triggering this event is Loki's desire to slow down and think about the consequences of killing HWR in the Citadel at The End of Time.

This may seem out-of-character at first glance. S1E1-E4 have demonstrated that Loki's decision making is sometimes chaotic by virtue of impulse. What was the last impulsive decision he made with heavy consequences?

He ran off after Sylvie. A good decision ultimately, as Loki learns the truth about the TVA through Sylvie, but only by luck. This decision very nearly cost Loki a friendship, one he didn't even realize he had until Mobius called him a "bad friend."

Despite the fallout, Mobius recovers relatively quickly once he confirms Loki's claims and views Ravonna's recording of C-20. He reestablishes trust with Loki as soon as possible to help Loki be with the one he loves. Why? Because Mobius is ultimately selfless and wants Loki's happiness regardless of his own feelings of jealousy.

Which circles us back to the theme of trust and Sylvie's challenges with it.

Loki and Sylvie's relationship falls apart not because of lack of mutual interest, but because Sylvie loses trust in Loki and with good reason: HWR (and thus the TVA) is the cause of all her suffering.

It is not Sylvie's fault she is this way. She hasn't had enough time to develop meaningful relationships, and the one relationship that was meaningful to her (Loki's) became, in her eyes, a profound betrayal. This experience only adds to the other traumas Sylvie carries with her, making encounters with Loki in S2 emotionally difficult if not triggering.

The relationships of Loki & Sylvie and Loki & Mobius are intentionally set side-by-side for 3 critical reasons:

1.) To demonstrate Loki's growth by developing trust and thus emotional intimacy with others.

2.) To create the Plot B emotional source of conflict in S2.

3.) To set-up Mobius and Sylvie's individual beliefs and values (selflessness and sparing life [Mobius] + free will and revolution [Sylvie]), which Loki combines into his own system of beliefs and values. This combination gives Loki the strength and wisdom to ascend the throne and become the God of Stories (and Time).

THE S2 FINALE

Loki comes to his final decision after speaking with the two halves of his character arc equation. Loki first seeks out Mobius, who shares with him the distinction between himself and Ravonna. Now, this is brainwashed Mobius. Brainwashed Mobius believed Ravonna could do the impossible while he couldn't. But Loki knows Ravonna's corruption.

Beneath Mobius's wisdom that "most purpose is more burden than glory" is also Mobius's heart: he could not prune children and that instinct was the right decision. His "failure" was not a failure of duty but rather his humanity succeeding despite the brainwashing. It's this same intrinsic compassion that drove Mobius to convince Ravonna to spare Loki. Loki articulates this to Don as such. He therefore takes the message of selflessness and sparing life from Mobius to Sylvie.

Sylvie, in turn, challenges Loki, stating they should have the freedom and right to fight whatever comes on their own terms.

She also stresses that it is all right to destroy things. Upon hearing this, Loki comes to the conclusion that what is destroyed must be replaced with something better. What needs to be destroyed? Not the TVA and the people in it (not Mobius, Verity, OB, and Casey), but the Loom.

Loki sacrificed himself (selflessness + sparing life [Mobius]) in order to save all timelines (free will + revolution [Sylvie]). Loki sparing Sylvie's life is a direct consequence of Mobius having fought to spare his.

Through this sacrifice, Loki gifts Sylvie the chance to get the type of positive experiences she wants and needs, which includes future romance, if she so chooses. That is canon and is a genuinely romantic gesture regardless of anyone's interpretation of mutual reciprocation or lack thereof.

It is also canon that Loki loves Mobius and Mobius loves Loki. Their actions for one another across both seasons demonstrate this to be true. Is it also romantic? Absolutely. Is it sexual? On screen, no, and it doesn't have to be. Romance does not require sex, let alone physical contact, to exist.

Loki loves them both.

#loki #sylvie #loki series #loki meta #my meta #loki season 2 #lokius #mobius #loki spoilers

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bengiyo · 19 days

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23.5 Ep 6 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Ongsa took the big lie too far for me. They all attended Sun’s birthday party, and Sun explicitly asked Earth to attend the party as well. Ongsa failed to tell Sun the truth, let Sun cry, and continued the lie even further. Aylin got picked on again, but Luna has decided she’s not going to let that happen on her watch.

I like Alpha getting Aylin to go talk to Ongsa.

I feel so bad for this poor dog. He is panting in every scene.

The person who posted that Ongsa is losing to herself is so correct.

Episode 6: The Apocalypse

Ah, yes, the boys have also fallen in the makeup wars. I get that beauty product companies help fund our shows, but goddamn.

I respect Mawin for outing himself rather than be misunderstood as straight and interested in the wrong person.

Shout out to my boy Euro for having Mawin check out Tinh when he wasn’t looking.

I don’t mind meddling in this case, because it’s clear Ongsa is too paralyzed to move forward on her own. Still, I feel bad that even more people know before Sun even though I am amused that this sleepover is high-key turning into a double date.

Okay, Luna, that was a really decent opening you created there. I love the way View is playing Aylin’s increasing frustration with Ongsa. That lean over was great.

This bedroom scene is solid emotional work for View and June. I’m starting to see the vision.

KABE-DON! I WANT TO SEE HER MAD!

Ongsa, let’s take a ride. We need to talk.

Mhmm, and now Sun is finding out on her own.

“’Spies and thieves!’ she spits. ‘Spies and thieves!’”

Ongsa, you can’t run away from this!

Damn, Milk sold that fall.

Je ne sais pas aussi, Sun.

Ongsa, you got your whole family scared and running around in the streets like this. It’s too much!

Thankfully, Sun is bisexual and processing this fairly quickly.

Oh good. We’ve got decent parents and siblings in this one.

Oh, Ongsa. I remember being this young. I do not miss it.

“I’m sorry for being a girl.” Hold on, let me go lay down real quick.

Well well well. The “Let me think about it and get to know you better” era has reached GL.

Journey before destination? I love Sun, too.

Next week looks fun! Thank you for the reassurance.

Lord, Ongsa had me stressed all episode. I don’t ever want to be that young and anxious ever again. I felt so much old closet trauma welling up in me the entire episode. I need to go take a walk!

Doing a soft reset at this point is kind of interesting since we're at the midpoint. I'm curious how the back half will unfold.

#Ben watches #23.5 degrees #23.5 the series #thai gl #gl series

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ofstoriesandstardust · 11 months

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you’ll lose your faith for a bit and question if she's you (b.r.b.)

a/n: i’ve been working on this for nearly a year. this is my first pride month fully confident and (mostly) open about my bisexuality. i think sometimes it gets taken for granted, knowing/being allowed to explore your sexuality at a young age. therefore, i wanted to write something i saw a little more me in. happy pride month. you’re loved and valid, no matter what label you choose for yourself.

summary: Rebel has a life-changing realization.

title comes from “you might not like her” by maddie zahm

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | same mistakes-verse

warnings: denial of sexuality, internalized biphobia, mentions of past icemav, MavDad, mentions of DADT, alcohol mentions, swearing,

word count: 4.2k

"She’s so pretty.”

Hangman shifts, turning to look at you. “I agree.”

“I mean, really, she’s gorgeous.”

“Who’s pretty?” Coyote leans over, looking at the phone.

“Hailee Steinfeld.” You respond.

“Second that. Why’re you looking at pictures of her?”

“I think she was in the movie we watched last night.” Hangman responds, nodding down to his phone, looking through her IMDb.

“Oh, what movie? I’ve probably seen it, I love her.” You ask.

“That Bumblebee movie. I don’t know, Hangman picked it.” Coyote responds, throwing his hands up in the air.

You made a face. “God, that’s one of her worst films. Didn’t Dylan O’Brien voice Bumblebee? I can’t remember. Anyways, why would you pick that? She’s in so many better movies. Like the Pitch Perfect franchise does exist. Movie full of pretty women if I’ve ever seen it.”

Hangman turned in his chair fully, face full of confusion. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“You keep-ow.” Hangman turned, glaring at his boyfriend. Your eyes flitted between the blonde and your best friend, who had just pinched his boyfriend and was shooting him a look through narrowed eyes.

“Okay.” You say, laughing nervously. “Moving on. I’m hungry, so... food?”

“Javy, I think your best friend is gay.”

“No shit.” His eyebrow raised in question as his boyfriend shifted to sit up against the headboard.

“Really? Did I miss the memo?”

Javy sighs, reaching up to run a hand over his face. “No. I don’t think she knows and it’s not really my place to speculate on her sexuality.”

Jake watched the rise and fall of his boyfriends bare chest, admiring the glint of the dog tags in the moonlight. “But?”

“But there’s a really good chance she’s bi.”

“She ever say anything to you over the years?”

He shakes his head, shifting to look at Hangman in the eye. “No, but she’s said all this stuff, like she did this morning, over the years that has just... made me wonder. And she tries so hard to be an ally that sometimes I think she’s compensating for something.” Hangman reaches a hand out to his boyfriend, intertwining their fingers. “I tried once, about a month after we came out to the team. She was super defensive, adamant she was straight, and got pretty panicked so I dropped it. Haven’t brought it up since.” Jake catches his bottom teeth in his lips as he let out a sigh.

“So basically she’s so far in the closet she can’t even see it?” Javy shrugs.

“Maybe. Like I said, not my place to speculate. She’ll figure out or she won’t. That’s up to her.”

“Yeah, but don’t you think she’d be happier? If she knew that about herself?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Why are you so interested in my best friend’s sexuality all of the sudden?”

He sighs, letting his boyfriends hand drop as he moves to place his back against the headboard, crossing his arms. “Because. I remember what it was like to be so far in the closet the mere suggestion of being anything but straight made me want to run for the hills. Made me want shove anyone who suggested it off my plane over an ocean.” He tilts his head, looking to his boyfriend. “I also know that when I stopped hiding from who I was, stopped being scared, I was a lot happier. Felt a lot freer.” He swallows, reaching out to pick off a piece of lint from his sweatpants. “I also know she carries a lot of weight.”

“I just don’t know what she’s running from. If she is, I mean. Maverick would love and support her, so would Rooster. We would obviously and she doesn’t have a thing to worry about with the rest of the team.”

“Maybe she thinks Rooster will break-up with her. Kind of a life-changing realization, you know?”

“Rooster’s down bad for her, he ain’t going anywhere.”

“Not if she’s not into men.”

Javy moves, pushing himself off the headboard.

“You really think that?” The words are sharp, a little bit defensive, and Jake winces. “You, what, think she just stays with him because she loves him but that’s not enough?”

“No, Javy-”

“Then what, Jake? Think she’s got some internalized biphobia she’s projecting on to herself? This is my best friend you’re talking about.”

“Maybe she is Javy.” Jake whispers and Javy roll his eyes, reaching over to grab a pillow. “Hey, where are you going?” He asks as Coyote moves off the bed and towards the door.

“Sleeping on the couch. Don’t wanna hear this about her.”

“Javy, c’mon, come back. We don’t need to fight about this.” Javy spins on his heel.

“You drop it. Doesn’t matter whether she is or isn’t. Isn’t either of our places to discuss this or bring it up to her.”

Jake sighs. “I just think that maybe she’d be happier.”

“Regardless if she is or isn’t, she needs to figure that out on her own.” Coyote says firmly, but he’s already inching back towards the bed as Jake watches him carefully.

He throws his hands up into the air in surrender. “Fine, I’ll drop it. Please just come back to bed.” Javy nods, already climbing back onto the mattress, bouncing softly in Hangman’s awaiting arms.

You’re standing at the bar, talking to Penny amidst the loud chatter of the Hard Deck when Hangman slips an arm around you. He bends closer to your ear, words hushed.

“Hey, can I talk to you outside?” You nod, picking your beer up from the counter and waving to Penny as she moves farther down to serve other customers. You follow Hangman, weaving your way through the crowd, and once outside, you’re quick to slip off your shoes as you reach the sand. He nods his head to further down the beach. “Wanna go sit?”

“Sure.” You say, taking a sip of your beer. You follow him to a good distance away from the Hard Deck and follow his lead, settling into the sand. He sighs, setting his beer on the sand and bringing his arms to rest on his knees.

“Listen, um, we gotta talk about something.” You swallow, setting your drink down as well.

“Okay.”

He sighs, rubbing his hands together. “Before I came out, before I met Javy, I was... I was very in denial about who I was. Kept thinking something was wrong with me and kept screwing all these girls just to prove I was straight. I don’t know who I was trying to prove it to, myself maybe. And that shit... it was lonely. It was a heavy burden to carry. I’m glad I don’t have to anymore.”

You watch him carefully. Contrary to popular belief, you and Hangman were actually quite close. He’d never be Coyote but he knew when to keep it real with you and you appreciated the realness of your friendship more than anything.

Weird how things changed.

“How’d you know?” You hear yourself asking. You aren’t sure why. You’re straight.

“I don’t know, I guess when I met Javy I had this oh moment. Everything about me sort of made sense. I was still a few years out from learning to deal with it but something clicked.”

You bit your bottom lip, turning his words over in his head. You still weren’t sure why the two of you were having this conversation. “Where you going with this Hangman?”

“Do you ever feel that way? Like you have to prove something to yourself or that you’re carrying a heavy burden? Waiting for an oh moment?” You give a half-shrug, mouth gaping open. He sighs again, sitting back to rest on his palms. His gaze moves from you to the full moon on the horizon. “Are you gay?”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. You don’t respond, simply looking at him with wide eyes. He finally drags his gaze backs to you but holds firm, unwilling to back down. Finally, you force yourself to start breathing again, coughing nervously. You shake your head, looking down at the sand. “N-no, I’m not Seresin.”

“It’d be okay, if you were.”

“Yes, I’m very aware that it would be. But I’m not.” He tilts his head in acknowledgement and begins to stand up from the sand. All you can do is watch him.

“Okay, well, I mean, it just wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you were into girls.”

“I’m straight Seresin.”

You were... weren’t you?

“Yeah, I’m sure you are.” He picks his beer up from the sand, turning on his heel to head back towards the bar. You sit there bewildered, turning his words over in your head.

Still, there was some part of you that felt unsettled. Like Jake had prodded at something dormant just enough to wake it up.

You sat on your bed, trying to remember what you were doing. You groaned, running a hand over your face. A soft knock sounded at your door and you looked up to see Rooster leaning against the open door. His smile was soft but you’d known him long enough to see the concern in his eyes.

“Hey.” You whisper softly.

Ever since your conversation with Hangman, one that hadn’t really been a conversation at all, things in your world felt off-kilter. You felt like you were waiting for the band to snap, like for the realization to come, the thing that would change everything as you knew it. You’d been sick to your stomach most days, unable to sleep.

Admittedly, you had always wondered. Maybe a little bit more so after Javy had come out. But there was never enough to prove to yourself that you were that you had always brushed the thought off, burying it deep down. And now it was resurfacing in waves, questions and fears drowning you.

You weren’t... You were straight. You were sure of it.

...Right?

“-you listening?” You shake your head, eyes flickering back up to your boyfriend. His smile was still there but you could tell it was more forced than anything.

“Yeah, sorry, just zoned out for a minute.” You say, waving a hand. “What were you saying?”

He sighs, straightening up and crossing his arms. “Coyote told me you bailed. Third time this week. He’s worried.”

You shrug. “Just needed some time to myself.” He nods slowly, as if he doesn’t quite believe you.

You wouldn't believe you either.

“Hey, are you okay? You haven’t really been yourself lately.”

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you hear your Dad’s footsteps in the hallway. He appears just a few moments later over Rooster’s shoulder and he shifts to allow him room to lean up against the other side of the doorway.

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to come out to the hangar tomorrow? For the long weekend?” You nod, even though it’s the last thing you want to do with how messy your brain has been lately.

“Sure.” You look to your boyfriend. “Want to come with us?” Your Dad sighs, straightening up, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Actually, I was thinking it could be just us kiddo.”

“Oh.” You say, frowning slightly. “Am I in trouble?” He shakes his head.

“No. Hey, you okay? You got anything you want to talk about?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m fine.”

Just like how you’re straight?

You brush the thought off, moving to stand up from the bed. “I beg to differ.” Rooster mutters and you shoot him a glare.

“I’m fine. Now I’m tired so if the two of you would kindly-” You motion for them to shoo and they both sigh, exchanging a glance.

“Its like... 7 PM.” Your Dad says, glancing at his watch.

“Well- I’m exhausted, so I’m going to bed early.”

Exhausted of running from who you are?

Rooster gives you a wary look before conceding, moving a few feet to give you a kiss. It’s short and feels forced and sends a wave of cold over you. He grimaces as he pulls away and doesn’t say anything as he steps back, slipping past your Dad. Your Dad sighs, stepping back and closing your bedroom door behind him. You sit back down on your bed, trying to swallow the tears.

You watch as your Dad swings his leg over his chair, settling back with his coffee in one hand and the paper in the other.

Who still reads the paper?

Who denies their sexuality?

You swallow, looking up at your Dad. The two of you were meant to drive back tonight and if you wanted to have this conversation, your window was quickly closing.

“Hey Dad?” He hums, not looking up from his paper. “Did you ever... Were you ever...”

“Spit the question out kiddo.” He says with a chuckle, eyes still skimming over the paper.

You take a deep breath, trying to steel yourself to ask what is a mildly inappropriate question.

Still, you’d always looked to your Dad for guidance and if anybody would have some to offer you right now, it’d be him.

“Were you ever with a man?”

He grunts. “Where is this going?”

“Humor me, please?”

“Does this have to do with why you haven’t been acting like yourself lately?”

“Yeah.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I was, but-”

“Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. My real question is- Well, how did you know? that you were like... interested.”

He tilts his head as he finally meets your gaze. “My story is a bit more like Jake’s. For so long, I hid any part of me that thought I might feel that way and then-” His face raises in a smile, clearly thinking back to some happier memory. “Then I met someone who changed all that. Everything just felt right with him and suddenly that part of myself I tried to keep hidden from myself and the world clicked into place. It stopped feeling like something was missing.”

A silence falls between the two of you a you turn the words over in your head and he turns back to his paper.

“Were you and Ice ever...” You wave your hand as he looks up at you, pausing mid-sip. “Together?” He sighs, and carefully sets both of them on the table in front of him. He eyes you carefully from where your back is pressed up the feet of the other chair, making a home on the rug placed in the hangar.

“Yeah, we were.”

“Oh.” You hear yourself saying, ears ringing with finally getting the truth after years.

“That’s it?”

You shrug. “Well, I mean I always suspected but I don’t know-” He nods, still looking at you ever intently as you begin to pick at the rug.

“Yeah, we got together after that photo of us was taken. You know the one.”

You did.

“Anyways, we were together for a few years, but- it was hard. Especially with Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. I’ve loved your godfather, and I did until the day he died. But it was hard, being in the Navy, dealing with Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, and we both agreed it was better to love each other and still be friends than go down in ruins. Was going to tell you but you got older and closer with Ice and it just- never came up.”

You swallow, nodding. “Cool.”

“Is everything okay?” You sit there for a moment, turning everything over in your head. You knew, but you were so scared. It was like two sides of you were warring, what you knew desperately fighting with what you feared. “Hey, talk to me kiddo. What’s going on?”

You continued to sit there, tears beginning to form. Finally, you found the courage to say the words that were right there-

“Dad, I think I’m bi.”

The words are no more than a whisper but he hears them all the same. He didn’t say anything, just continued to observe you. A few more tears begin to slip down your face, and then a few more, and then more, and soon you were struggling to wipe them all away as your Dad stood up from his seat to sit on the floor with you. He’s quick to wrap you in a hug, a kiss being placed to the top of your head.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay.”

You shake your head, swallowing. “It’s not.” You whisper. He holds you close, tucking your head into his shoulder. “How can it be okay? I’m in my fucking 30′s, in a long-term committed relationship with the person I want to marry, and I figure out I’m into women. It changes everything.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He whispers.

“How could it not?” Your voice is thick, the tears still bubbling out of you. “He’s gonna hate me, like I lied or-”

“Hey.” He says firmly, adjusting you to be able to look you in the eye while still holding on you. “Give Brad a little more credit than that, please. He’s loved every part of you since you were kids and through all your years apart. He’s going to love this part of you too.”

“I’m bisexual.” You whisper, the words prompting a new round of tears. “It feels really good to say that.”

Your Dad pulls you back to his chest, squeezing you tight. “I’m glad you’ve finally found yoruself.”

You glance up from your phone, the text from Bradley sitting on your phone like it’s taunting you.

Text me when you get home please.

I love you.

“This isn’t our house.”

Your Dad turns the ignition off. “Nope.”

You blink, turning to your Dad. “Are you really making me have this conversation with him now?”

He shrugs. “You can tell Brad whatever you want, but I figured you'd probably want to see him.”

You sigh, sliding your seatbelt off. As always, your Dad was right.

You did want to see Bradley. You longed for a hug and for him to tell you that everything would be alright, that he’d still love you just like he always had.

“And kid?”

You pause, looking up at him as you climb out of the car.

“Yeah?”

“I’m really proud of you.”

You swallow.

“Thanks Dad.”

You climb out out the car, giving your Dad a wave as he drives off you. You sigh, pulling out your keys and thumbing through until you find the one that you had had since you were eleven years old, the key you’d never let go of, even in the years you didn’t speak to the person who inhabited this home.

You blink tears away at the thought it may one day become your home. That tonight could mean it would never be your home.

“Bradley?” You call out, toeing your shoes off by the entryway, straining for the sounds of him.

“In the kitchen, honey.” He calls back and you can hear him moving around. You enter the kitchen, hovering by the door.

Bradley’s cooking, sitting something on the stove, a towel slung on his shoulder as he tastes the sauce. He perks up at the sight of you, smiling. “Hey honey.”

“Hi. Sorry for dropping by unannounced.”

He shakes his head, holding a hand out for you. “You’re never a bother. Come try the sauce. Tash sent me the recipe for her grandmother’s and I’ve been tweaking it to perfection.”

He holds out the spoon for you to take but all you can do is stare.

“We need to talk.”

Bradley swallows, pulling back slowly. “Okay...” He trails off, leaning over to turn the stove off. “Do you want talk about it over dinner?”

You shake your head, glancing at the food. It looks and smells incredible, but you feel like throwing up, feeling the truth claw it’s way out of your throat on it’s own.

“Now please?” You say, voice cracking.

He nods. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it.”

He looks so earnest and honest in his words, so sure that whatever you have to say to him couldn’t change how he feels about you, that you start to believe it too.

You feel the tears stinging at your eyes as Bradley waits patiently.

“I’m not- I don’t mean to spring this on you or- or- I don’t want you to think I’ve lied about this or intentionally hid it from you-”

He grabs your hand, squeezing it before running his thumb over your knuckles. “Honey, you’re okay.” He whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay, whatever it is, it’s okay.”

You take a shuddering breath, leaning into his smell and the way he feels like home.

“Bradley, I’m- I’m bisexual.” You whisper.

It feels as though all sound is cut off as you watch him intently, not sure if seconds or hours ar epassing, anxiously waiting for him to tell you that he just couldn’t be with someone like that.

Rationally, you knew he’d never do that to you. You hoped he’d still love you just as you are, even with this new discovery of yours.

“If you wanna break up with me, I’d understand.”

Bradley’s face falls and he pulls you into a hug. “Oh, honey, no.”

You wrap your arms around him, desperate to find some sort of comfort.

“Honey, this would never, ever change how I feel about you or what we have. How could it? This is just one more part of you that I get to love and I’m so glad it’s something you were able to discover about yourself. I’m so happy you felt like you could share it with me.”

You swallow, tears still brimming in your eyes as you pull back to look him in the eye.

This time though, it wasn’t from fear but from the feeling sitting in you at the way he looked at you.

He gives you a soft smile, one of his hands reaching up to move some of your hair. “Besides, I’ve always had a suspicion.”

You raise an eyebrow, letting out a choked laugh. “You did? How?”

“Do you remember your friend Lexi from high school? Yeah, no one was ever really sure you two were just friends.”

“What?” You question. “I wasn’t into her like that.”

“Well, now I know that, but back then...” He shrugs, leaning up against the countertop. “I don’t know, Sli used to have this theory you were just dating Ben as a cover.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You mutter, reaching up to brush some of the tears away with a shake of your head.

Bradley smiles softly, knowing there's no real heat behind your statement. Your Uncle Slider had always been able to see things in a way no one else could, reading past the lies and bullshit.

Maybe the years of putting up with Mav and Ice had taught him how.

“Do you feel better?”

You nod, leaning into his touch. “Feels like a weight has been lifted, I guess. Like everything makes sense.”

He ducks to press a kiss to your cheek. “Good. That’s how it should be.” He turns back to the stove, retrieving his spoon. “Will you try the sauce now?”

You quirk an eyebrow, letting out a watery chuckle. “I have to admit I was expecting us to have a longer discussion about this.” You say, although you take the spoon anyways.

He shrugs as he places the spoon in the sink after you nod, giving him your approval. “It doesn’t have to be. It can just be as simple as that if you want it to be.” He pauses, facing you. “Why? Do you want us to have a longer conversation about it?”

You give a half-shrug, sighing. “Not- not really? It doesn’t change anything for me, I still love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you still want that, of course.”

He sighs, reaching out for you again. “I want to be here however long you want me here. You trusted me with something deeply personal and that means so much to me. I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”

You take his, intertwining your fingers with his. “I know.” You whisper.

He smiles. “Good.” He turns back to the stove. “Now, let’s get some food in you. Can’t imagine Mav cooked anything halfway decent this weekend.”

You laugh, reaching for the bowls out of the cabinet so Bradley can scoop the pasta up into the ceramic dishes. He tells you about his weekend as the two of you settle in the couch, close to one another. Bradley’s body heat isn’t the only reason feel warmth, the love you feel brining a certain type of peace you rarely experienced.

Later, after the two of you have had a couple of glasses of wine and are on your second helping of food, you remember your conversation with your Dad earlier in the day.

You pause in your bite, fork halfway to your mouth. “By the way, I learned something today about Dad.”

“Hm?” He prompts, shoving a bite of pasta in his mouth.

“He and Ice hooked up in ‘86.”

Bradley chokes.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #same mistakes

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bloodwrittenballad · 2 years

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Amazing | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie thinks you’re amazing

Warnings: Porn with a little plot, car sex (i don’t recommend doing this irl, it’s unsafe and uncomfortable) lots of swearing, oral (male and afab!reader receiving) teasing, pet names, praise, reader is in a band, eddie has thigh tattoos because I said so, it’s long, it’s messy, it’s dirty, it’s not proofread because we die like men. DNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR, THIS IS NOT FOR YOU. 18+ ONLY, PLEASE!!!

ps: feedback is appreciated :p especially if y’all liked this and would like to see more of our favorite bisexual disaster, eddie.

It was like he was in a trance.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

The way your hips swayed to the beat of the song, your luscious lips parting sensuously as you sang, the soft glow of your skin under the fluorescents… Every move you made, sound you hummed, all the little things you did was driving Eddie up the wall…

He couldn’t even get started on the song. The fuckin’ song you were playing your heart out to had Eddie on his knees. Your playful gasps and breathy voice each time you sang the chorus made Eddie’s black leather pants tighten around his tatted thighs so ferociously.

His already dark eyes were full blown black with how wide his pupils had blown, the long hair of his began to stick to his next with sweat. He could not fucking wait to get his hands on you and in you. Rings and all.

Luckily for him, Eddie didn’t have to wait much longer. You finished your song, ignoring the cheer of the crowd as they roared for an encore. You bid them your thanks and goodnight, as you and your band mates packed up your things and wrapped up.

With your bag over your shoulder and clad in a jean jacket - courtesy of Eddie’s closet - you called out a final farewell to your crew as you met up with Eddie by his car. There stood your boyfriend, in all his glory.

“Hi baby,” you said softly into his chest as he had immediately embraced you. “Did you like the show-” Before you could even finish what you were going to say, Eddie’s lips were on yours. You both moaned in to each other’s mouths, swallowing the sounds.

You only pulled away once you both became too breathless to continue, “so I take it you liked it, huh?” you teased him. “Fuck baby, you looked so sexy up there. Sounded so sexy, too. Couldn’t take my eyes off of you, off those fucking pretty lips of yours. God, baby, I needed you so bad. Still do, need you so bad.”

Rubbing your hands on his chest, your eyes met his as you looked up at him with a cheeky grin. “Well, I’m all yours now.” Eddie let out a mix between a whine and a growl, his leather pants tightening once more.

“Get your sexy ass in the car,” he panted out between his needy and excited breathes. You hadn’t ever been one to disobey his demands, and wasted no time in climbing into the passenger seat. Eddie appeared next to you, seconds later, immediately racing out of the driveway and towards his place.

You spent the car ride with your denim short clad thighs pressed together, the heat ever growing and your hunger insatiable. You could tell Eddie felt the same way, as he kept shifting achingly in his seat.

As Eddie raced down the highway, you could no longer resist your need for him. Sneakily you had unbuckled yourself, leaving you to move as you pleased with no restriction towards your boyfriend.

As you positioned yourself comfortably on your seat, your knees digging into the worn out fabric, your face hovered over Eddie’s crotch now. Of course he had taken notice of your movements, and intentions…

He automatically began to moan and buck his hips, you hadn’t even touched him yet. “Fuck,” he whined, feeling your warm hands on his skin as you worked on freeing his cock. You both let out happy sighs.

Gently you took the throbbing erection and brought it to your mouth. Once your warm lips had finally and painstakingly wrapped around his red and aching cock, Eddie couldn’t control his own mouth. He let out strings of both obscenities and praised for you.

This only spurred you on further. Greedily as always, you took all of him in your mouth as if it was the last thing you’d do. You bobbed up and down, taking him as far as you could, the slight saltiness of his precum mixing with your drool and leaving you drunk on him.

Eddie’s thighs began to clench and shake, each of his moans more dramatic and drawn out than the last. He was so close, beads of sweat dripping on both of your foreheads as you swallowed him whole. Your hands went to play with his much too neglected balls

Finally, like clockwork, as Eddie parked the car to signify that you arrived back at the trailers, he all but exploded. Thick, warm ropes of white come paints your throat. Eddie’s thanking you while you tongue around him, cleaning him to the best of your abilities.

Once finished, you released him with a loud pop. Your lips now swollen and the once neatly applied red lipstick now a blurred mess, not that you minded.

You sighed both happily and tiredly as you got back up in a sitting position, your back hitting against the cold glass window of his car. Your head tilted back so you could catch your very much needed fresh air.

That’s when you felt Eddie’s warm hands copying your actions from just mere moments before, long nimble finger unbuttoning your shorts with wickedly easy glee. With heavy, needy eyes, you looked down at the man beneath you. His fiery look and smirking gaze made you moan, the wetness soaking through your lacy thong as he tugged the material down.

“Your turn,” Eddie’s deep and low voice thrummed out in the otherwise quiet night. And then, like a magnet, his tongue flattened against your pussy. It felt like you had been shocked, the cold contrast of his lips on your warm clit. Eddie licked and sucked, taking you in and tasting you like a fucking delicacy.

You were a mess, your hips and ass hurt from the new angle he had you in, his rings hands clawing and digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. Eddie kept you centered right in his face, your inner thighs touching his cheeks. You could see him looking up at you from in between your legs, such a sinful sight.

One of your hands held on to the door handle for added support, while the other slithered down to tangle into his long and messy hair. You tugged on it, just as he liked, which resulted in him nipping lightly on your clit with his teeth. “Fuck, Eddie!” You whined

Your hips couldn’t help but rut against him, causing Eddie to hum a laugh against your soaked clit. “My, my, my,” Eddie’s low voice rang as he was pressed on your dripping core. “What a needy, pretty little thing you are.” He teased, licking a long and slow stripe.

You swore like a sailor, the pressure building inside of you and ready to explode on his tongue. Each swipe, each tug, each and every moment had you on the edge. But you knew better, you couldn’t come like this. You needed Eddie inside of you, you needed to feel him deep inside of your sweetly throbbing cunt.

Eddie could tell you were close. He always knew. The signs were never missed by him. Your shaking, your gasping, your eyes rolling back. Of course he knew when you were close, after all he was the only one who could get you this way. He also knew you only wanted to come on his cock, which he’d gladly give.

So when he pulled away, you hardly protested. You knew well enough what you were in for, what he’d give you. The glint in your eyes, the obvious look of complete readiness for him didn’t go undetected by Eddie, who only chuckled and tapped your thigh.

“Get up,” he commanded. You did just that. Eddie sat up as well, sitting back down in the drivers seat, his hands immediately meeting your hips once more as he lifted you up and over so you could sit on his lap. Your thighs met his own very tatted, muscly ones.

You gasped at the feeling of his cock sliding on your pussy, your slick covering his hard on before he even entered you. “God, baby, you’re soaked.” Eddie gave an evil, shit eating grin. “Wonder who did that to ya,” he continued, pressing kisses to your neck as he did.

“Eddie,” you moaned at the feeling of his lips on your sensitive skin. “Eddie, baby, please!” you whined and pleaded. Eddie tutted, the feeling sending shivers all the way down your spine. “Words, baby. Tell me what you want.” His voice was mocking, he already knew.

“Eddie, please, your cock. I need it, need to feel you.” your hips were grinding on his lap, creating sounds that even the devil would cover his ears at. Your slick on his cock, the moans and swears, it was too much for him to handle. Enough teasing, he needed you.

With the help of Eddie, he kept you steady as you slid down on him. The grunts Eddie let out upon entering you was like music to your ears, and soon he found a rhythm that had you both lost in the stars above.

Your now free tits bounced with each movement, Eddie’s hands felt like they hand minds of their own as they gravitated towards the soft flesh and gave them a good squeeze, earning a choked moan.

His hands gripped you so hard, you were sure to be bruised in the morning. Eddie’s hips rutted up, his cock pounding into you deeper every time you sunk back down on it. The familiar building of an orgasm snuck up on you once more, your cunt clenching on Eddie like a fucking python going in for its kill.

You knew Eddie was getting close again too, his thrusts were getting messy. With all the strength and energy you had left, you sped your movements up. Yours and Eddie’s heads were both thrown back in pure ecstasy, your highs soon inevitably crashing down on you in a tidal wave of overwhelming release.

You drowned out each other’s moans by swallowing them whole with your mouths, your tongues fighting for dominance. You bite down softly on his, capturing a needy groan from Eddie as you won the fiery frenzy

Once you pulled away, you still sat on top of him, breathlessly. Eddie was the first to speak, breaking the silence. “Wow,” he chuckled. “That was amazing, baby. You’re amazing.” You smiled and blushed, your hands raking through his long and very sweaty hair.

“You didn’t do so bad yourself, handsome.” You winked at him, as he helped you off of him and helped you gather the clothes you’d thrown around. Once you were both dressed, Eddie got out first and told you to stay put. He all but ran around to the other side of the car to open up your door for you.

He helped you stand on tired, shaky legs, leading you up the steps and inside. Inside you two immediately went towards his room, crashing on the old mattress. It didn’t take much for either of you to fall asleep, you were both exhausted and needed the sleep. After all, you had another show to play in the next night and would definitely need the energy for it. And for him…

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things #smut #smut fic #minors dni

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caughtonwebcam · 1 year

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sp hcs <3

- In his 20s, Cartman used to sneak out to bars and try to seduce men while crossdressing. He thought it was a secret, but Kyle, Stan and Kenny all knew, they just didn’t say anything but joked about it in private. (This was before he became homeless. He got kicked out of college.)

- Craig goes everywhere looking like he rolled out of bed. Like just throws on a hoodie that was on his floor and sweats.

- After post-covid, Stan ends up marrying Wendy, but the marriage ends in divorce.

- In middle school, Butters becomes a bit of a bully. After constantly being grounded throughout elementary school, be becomes rebellious and starts to hang out with Cartman more. However, when around Kenny, he feels as though he can be his true self. He was also veeeerrryyyy deep in the closet about his gender identity at this time, and tried very hard to project his masculinity as obnoxious as possible. Kenny was the only one who knew about Marjorine being trans and helped keep the secret for her up until high school. She started hrt and publicly came out her senior year.

- Tweek always wears mismatched socks.

- In high school, Butters got the courage to call cps for his parent’s abuse, after doing so being put into foster care. He was adopted by the Tweeks and became Tweak’s adopted brother/sister.

- Scott Tenorman lives in a mental hospital.

- Stan played with Crimson Dawn throughout middle school and high school. The band became kinda cultish within South Park. When they broke up before everyone went to college, Stan tried to start a solo career and got a couple gigs. He still plays with the former members occasionally, though.

- Stan smells like axe. Kyle thinks it’s disgusting.

- Kyle can’t go a day without showering. He also wears cologne a lot.

- Kyle is a neat freak (he has ocd.)

- Kyle hid his hair under his hat up until junior year, being heavily insecure about it. In college, he started to embrace his hair and let it grow out.

- Since dating Cartman, Heidi suffers from bulimia and anorexia, because she still sees herself as a clone of Cartman.

- Bebe is one of those girls who sprays bath and bodyworks warm vanilla sugar perfume all over the locker room.

- Tweek and Craig like to bond over movies and tv shows, like Adventure Time or Star Wars. Their current favorite is Steven Universe (Tweek’s favorite character is Peridot and Craig’s is Garnet <3)

- Cartman still sleeps with his stuffed animals/dolls, but denies it.

- Mars becomes a cheerleader.

- When watching a horror movie with friends, if Clyde knows there’s a jumpscare coming, he will leave the room and yell “Is it over yet?” when he wants to come back in.

- Kenny makes his money when living alone by being hired for kids birthday parties. He will go as either Mysterion or Princess Kenny.

- When Stan starts to question his sexuality during his preteen years, Wendy helps him out by telling him she’s omnisexual herself and introduces him to bisexuality.

- Red and Wendy date for two weeks in middle school.

- In middle school, Stan nearly drops all his friends again, hitting his lowest point with his mental health and alcoholism. He starts to recover in high school.

- Stan HATES weed. However, he still smokes it as a stress reliever despite himself, having been surrounded by it since 4th grade. Occasionally, he’ll smoke some with Kenny.

- Stan has ache, meanwhile Kyle has a perfect skincare routine.

- Craig, Clyde, Bebe, Heidi, and Wendy all have braces.

- Mars loves y2k, early 2000’s and Japanese Harajuku fashion.

- Kenny owns one of those stupid “virginity rocks” and “I ❤️ hot milfs” t-shirts.

- Nicole and Tolkien are married and Tweak and Craig are engaged.

- Stan is still jealous of Kyle and Tolkien’s tiktoks. In response, Kenny and Stan make their own tiktok account to rival them.

- Kenny’s phone is a hand-me-down iPhone 6 that is so cracked it’s a shock how it even still works.

- Wendy takes muay thai lessons.

- Kyle is a huge book worm, enjoying classic literature. Stan makes fun of him for it, thinking it’s boring.

- Stan carries tote bags everywhere.

- Stan loves motorcycles.

- Stan avoids red meat in his diet. He still eats chicken and fish, though, since he’s not a total pussy.

- Tweek likes musicals. Craig, on the other hand, thinks they’re silly.

- Stan is a fnaf kid.

- Kyle is a coffee addict. Not Tweek level ofc but he can’t go without it.

- Kyle is an insomniac.

- Kyle enjoys writing, specifically poetry. In middle school, he wrote a lot of cringey poems that he is embarrassed of, which his mother kept as keepsakes.

- Cartman writes yaoi fanfiction of Tweak and Craig that he hides under his bed.

- Kyle went through a “I’m not like other boys” phase in middle school. Years later, Kyle had to scribble out his old yearbook photos cuz he hated them so much. He had a pair of round glasses that he thought looked so good for about a year, then saw his photos and never wore them again.

- Butters started sneaking out in high school to go to Kenny’s house. Marjorine became a really good liar.

- Tweek likes physical touch but feels uncomfortable giving it or having it be displayed, while Craig hates being touched but loves getting into everyone’s personal space.

- Tweek is taller than Craig.

- Marjorine has a huge growth spurt in high school, making her the tallest out of the boys.

- Tweek has a huge fear of blood. If he gets something as minor as a scrape or a paper cut he will literally pass out.

- Stan and Kyle will stay up very late playing roblox together on school nights.

- Clyde is afraid of loud noises, specifically thunderstorms. He also has a fear of clowns.

- Clyde and Kyle both sleep with a nightlight.

- Kyle is a straight-A student. If he gets a B he will beg the teacher for extra credit to make it up. Stan’s grades are pretty average, mostly B’s with a couple A’s and like one C. Kenny has abysmal grades. Mostly F’s and D’s and one B. Cartman is mostly C’s and D’s with one F.

- One of Mars’ favorite hobbies is to go thrifting. She often goes with Kenny and they pick outfits out for each other.

- Mars and Kenny also like to bond over online games, specifically Hello Kitty Island Adventure (among other things like webkinz or animal jam)

- Mars and Kenny love singing karaoke together. They also like painting each others nails for fun.

- Mars and Kenny aren’t dating, just really close friends. A lot of people think they are due to their joke flirting (they both know it’s not serious but they think it’s funny. Sometimes they’ll do it just to confuse people.) Mars is dating Red and Kenny just sleeps around, but is open to a committed relationship(s), both monogamous or polyamorous.

-In college, Kenny worked at a tattoo shop. He gave himself his own piercings. He has a lot of them.

-Kenny likes wearing skirts and dresses occasionally. Not like Cartman does, but in a “fuck gender norms I can wear what I want” kind of way, being cis.

-Cartman used to talk to his plushies and believe that they were alive and had feelings (he watched toy story and totally thought it was real). He used to cram all his plushies onto his bed and sleep with them because he didn’t want them to be lonely.

-Cartman is very embarrassed about his genderfluidity, with lots of internalized homo/transphobia (if u asked him what his pronouns were, he’d probably say “I have a dick and balls, make of that what you will.” Otherwise, he’d go by he/she) If he found out that the other guys knew, he would die. - Wendy and Stan, since middle school, are constantly in an on-again-off-again relationship. Stan’s personal issues in middle school led him to treat Wendy horribly, even if he didn’t mean it. Heidi used to comfort Wendy about this, sharing her experiences, and they became close. In high school, as Wendy became more popular and Stan started to recover, he started to chase her while Wendy was colder. However, they hooked up occasionally and dated periodically. While Stan was getting better, he still lacked good communication skills, and in senior year, Wendy finally broke up with him for good. They rarely saw each other in college, but after that they reconnected and became friends. Read the first headcanon. - Kenny doesn’t give a fuck about his health because he knows he can just come back. He’s constantly living life on the edge and doing dangerous shit, but is always quick to protect anybody who he feels is at harm and would never try to drag them into anything crazy he does. - Kenny will get high off of anything. Anything. He doesn’t cheese anymore but he likes huffing and taking LSD. - Mars and Kyle enjoy writing.

- Wendy is wasian (korean and white)

- Stan is wasian and Latino (Japanese, Mexican and white)

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