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widowmaxff · 27 days

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Hello!! I was having some bad days recently, could u make a one-shot of moms!wandanat and reader with the reader having a bad week, and then Wanda and Natasha comforts reader? If you want to, of course!

enough for you

pairings: parents!wandanat × daughter!reader

warnings: bad thoughts, self-deprecating reader, lots of crying, one agent who really needs to stfu - i think thats all!

a/n: tysm for the request my love! im so sorry for the delay in posting this one shot, my life has been very busy these last few months. and i dont think this one turns out the way u wanted it, because i already made one like your request but w mom!wanda but i hope u like it :3

HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE!

You always saw yourself working for SHIELD. Being able to do missions and 'save the world' was something you always wanted to do. Having mothers who are considered super heroes was also something that made you inspired by this life, but you only saw it from the outside. How they were greeted by everyone or how it seemed so easy for them to do these hero things. But when you finally got what you wanted when you turned eighteen, it wasn't what you expected.

It was the third time in the last few days that you had messed up in a mission in which you were classified. The looks the other agents gave you at the Academy made you feel horrible. You obviously hadn't messed up the missions on purpose, you would never do that. But it seemed like all those people expected that every step you took would be right, that you would never make mistakes, and that you would be as good as your mothers. Your head hurt just thinking about it. And that thought led you to others, how ashamed you felt remembering how the other agents spoke mean words to you when, again, you messed up on the mission.

You tried to distract yourself from these types of self-sabotaging thoughts about yourself by training even harder. Punching and kicking the red cylinders using all your strength, and even after hours it still felt like you didn't feel good enough, strong enough. All you wanted was to just stop thinking for at least a few seconds, and when you heard those heavy footsteps you knew that wasn't what was going to happen. "Oh, look who's here!"

You didn't care about remembering that agent's name, but you remembered exactly her voice and face, because it was her who started the whispers about how you weren't like your mothers. How you spoiled the missions of the last few days of that week, how you will never be like them. "The daughter of the great Black Widow and the Scarlet Witch, even if it doesn't seem like it." You continue ignoring her presence there, massaging your fingers to continue punching the red bag. "Do they know how you failed this last week?"

She wasn't stupid to know how horrible your week had been, how the failed missions, the disturbances and all those other things were making you almost have panic attacks right there in front of everyone. "No." Your voice was low, because you knew that if you exerted the necessary strength to reach a greater height, the tears would fall without your permission.

"What do you think they will do when they find out how bad you are?" She starts to approach you with those boots with a high step, her head lolling to the side with a tone to tease you. A smirk on her sharp face, her gloved hands resting on her waist. All those little details made you want to scream in her face, tell her that you weren't bad, but how would you say that if you didn't even believe it yourself?

"Maybe they'll get you out of here when they see how bad you are and realize that any of the agents here are much better than you, your place as an Avenger is almost invisible.” The girl laughs, her cheeks almost covering her eyes due to the action. At some other time you would find her features extremely beautiful, but at that moment, you wanted to vomit just looking at her.

Even if you tried to be strong at that moment, like your mother Natasha, you couldn't. Your fists were clenched tightly trying to control the tears from coming out, the pain of your nails in the palms of your hands trying to distract you from that moment. And every time that Agent mentioned your mother's name, your thoughts directed you only to them, how you wanted to be in their arms right now while you feel your hair being stroked by Wanda's magical hands. You knew that if you wanted comfort from your mothers they wouldn't wait a second to give it to you, and even if you didn't want to talk about why you were feeling that way, they wouldn't force you to talk.

"Where are you going? Ruin another mission?” If it weren't for the high-pitched, irritating tone of her voice, you wouldn't have even registered those questions in your head. Your thoughts were in a totally different space from that place, just wanting your mothers affection. So when you started packing your things and totally ignoring that Agent, you knew that your body wouldn't stop until you got home.

The girl's laugh echoed throughout the room as you headed towards the exit door of the place. In films, this scene would be dramatic, as if the main character was planning some revenge in their head to end the character who keeps provoking them. But at that moment you weren't thinking about revenge, or how you would turn things around, you just thought about how your mothers affectionate touches would turn that bad week into just distant memories. How you were sure that your mother Wanda would know what to say to you and how Natasha would know what to do so that your surroundings were just comfort.

You didn't wait a second before getting on your motorcycle, which Natasha had given you as a gift for your 18th birthday, and heading towards your childhood home. Even though those bad thoughts were in your head now and could possibly distract you in the traffic on the streets, you continued on your way with your eyes soaked with tears and the horrible tightness in your chest. You tried to think of good things, like your mom Wanda would probably be baking chocolate chip cookies and your mom Natasha would just be watching, since cooking isn't one of her great talents, but that domestic situation was pretty far away for you. It seemed that any self-deprecating thought stood in the way, a great layer of ignorance about happiness.

You didn't bother to park the motorcycle correctly, just running towards the entrance porch and knocking, almost softly, on the door. You heard some sweet giggles through it, confirming that your mothers were in some domestic situation, before the door calmly opened and revealed Wanda's long red hair. Her smile opened for a few seconds when she saw it was you, their beloved daughter, but when she came across the features on your face, the reddish eyes with lakes over them, her smile soon fell apart, taking its place a worried look. “Sweetie? What happened, my love?"

She took no time in taking you into her arms, even though you didn't answer her question. Your head falls on your mother's shoulder as she wraps one of her arms around your waist and the other massages the hair spread across her chest. Your hands tightly grip the blouse stuck to Wanda's body, as if at any moment she would come off and no longer provide the comfort you needed. Natasha heard your sobs from the kitchen, and she knew they were yours, she knew and kept almost everything about you. She quickly heads towards the front door, seeing her wife's back being grabbed by you, and how your body looked like it would fall to the ground at any moment.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Wanda whispered in your ear with her sweet voice. Your crying was loud, as if you had kept it for several days, your mother thought. She didn't know and had no idea why you were sobbing uncontrollably and why you arrived so early that day. Normally you would be completing some report, or training, since you always said how strong you wanted to get. But at that moment, everything didn't seem strong to you.

At some point you were carried and taken towards the comfortable sofa in that house. Your thoughts were so loud that you didn't even notice when you were positioned on your mother Wanda's lap. She still kept her grip on his body and the affectionate words in your ear. “I need you to breathe for me, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” Her breathing became heavier and slower, forcing it so that at that moment you could keep up with her. Natasha, beside you two, continued to caress your back, praising you for following Wanda so well.

You finally managed to take a deep breath after what felt like hours of crying and sobbing. Your gaze fell from your mother's eyes to your hands in your lap, you felt embarrassed. Maybe because you were 18 and sitting on your mother's lap, or because you were crying uncontrollably without being able to breathe properly, or because you failed at the only thing you wanted to do at SHIELD. “I feel like a baby.” You say in a low voice, almost making your mothers not hear, even with their proximity.

"Well, you're our baby." Natasha says making you finally let out a laugh between your lips. “Do you want to tell us why you're so sad, my love?” You didn't know if you wanted to tell them or not, the negative thoughts making you think they were going to fight you, tell you how bad you are. So, you shrug and lay your head on Wanda's shoulder again, but in a position so you could still look at your mother Natasha. “I just- I had a bad week.” You murmur, closing your eyes to feel the comfort that place brought you. “And, um… I think I should stop being an Agent.”

That took their mothers by surprise. You always said you wanted to be one of the people at SHIELD and you always trained to be one of the best at that place. “Oh, and why do you think that?” Wanda questions. Even though you didn't see her, you knew she would be looking at Natasha, as if they were talking through looks.

“I’m not good enough.” You felt Wanda's body tense beneath you. Your mothers always knew how much you felt like everyone was better than you, how hard it was to believe you were good at something. “This week I- I ruined every mission I went on,” Your mother's blouse was soaked with your tears, and now she could once again feel the salt water falling from your eyes through the fabric. “all the Agents are making fun of me because of it. They say I will never be like you.”

When you finish speaking, Wanda's grip on your body becomes even tighter, you feel Natasha's hand in your hair, stroking it as you hear her sigh deeply. “I've lost count of how many times your mother and I messed up a mission.”

“What?”

“There were several times when I blew up my teammates, for example, Uncle Tony was probably the one who received the most blasts.” Natasha says, making the three of you laugh at the words. “What about the times your mother mistook me for enemies and threw me out of buildings with her magic? We had to stop missions many, many times.” She emphasizes the word 'many', as if she were singing it.

“Remember when I joined the Avengers, Nat?” She was asking your mother, but she was talking so you could listen. “I was much older than you, Y/n/n, and I couldn't do half the things you do today at SHIELD, even with my powers.” She leaves a kiss on your head before continuing. “In every training session I did, I always ended up on the ground.” You laugh again, feeling much lighter than before.

”And you want to know something? I bet you were the one doing all the mission stuff, huh?” Natasha says. “Because if no Agent has ever made a mistake on a mission, then they aren’t real Agents.”

“Your mother is right, make mistakes is human, my love, and everyone will do it one day.” You feel your thoughts start to ease now. The tears stopped falling down your face and only lightness is in their place. Your mothers always knew what to do to make you feel good.

"You're right..." You finally admit, lifting your head from your mother's shoulder and looking at the two women in front of you, seeing nothing but affection and truths.

Wanda sits you down on the couch before getting up and ruffling your hair. "Now, don't worry your pretty head about that stuff and just think about the cookies that are going to go into your stomach in a little while that obviously weren't made by Natasha!"

"What do you mean by 'obviously’?" You laugh at that one scene, seeing Natasha's arms cross under her breasts as an indignant expression is placed on her face.

And at the end of the day you knew that you wouldn't have to worry about anything - just your mom's delicious cookies - and that you knew that your moms would never think about fighting or being upset with you. And Natasha would definitely make sure you didn't need to worry about that Agent who wouldn't leave you alone. That bitch will obviously never set foot in SHIELD again.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

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too many teens whining for validation, this blog needs more weird and stupid so...

AITA for kidnapping my friend and trapping her in the cheesebarn?

Hear me out:

The story starts about a week before my (20 at the time ftm) 21st birthday. If you live in the US you know this isnt just some lame 7th birthday or 36th birthday, this is one of the big boy birthdays, the special ones. Its when you can legal buy alcohol and are therefore truly an adult in the eyes of the law.

Naturally my friends (20s) wanted to do something Big for our 21sts. So they asked me what i wanted to do and i said i didnt really care as long as I got a road trip somewhere with friends.

Everyone thought it was a fun idea but it was a little short notice for everyone to get time off from work, but my other friend we will call C also had her 21st exactly a month after mine to the day, and the two of us agreed to share our 21sts and not do much of anything on my actual birthday. This is important, bc it was a SHARED birthday road trip.

I agree to let C pick the destination and I provide the car. We didnt have much of a plan as we were going to meet up with C's old roommate who lives in the city we picked to show us a good time.

It was 5 of us total and about a 7 hour drive altogether there with not a whole lot on the way there. We get to the city she picked and meet the roommate and honestly the rest of this part is just standard 21st birthday shenanigans. Its when we start the drive home things really start.

Remember its a long drive with not much to see? Well that was a lie. On our way back we see it, the Real "Happiest Place on Earth" as far as places with a mouse for a mascot go:

Grandpa's.

Fuckin'.

Cheesebarn.

Obviously me and the other people on the trip want to stop and see the magic, but unfucking fortunately C happens to be the only Basic White Girl ™️ in the entire world who hates cheese and isnt even lactose intolerant. This girl is notorious for making "petty" and "I hate Cheese" her entire personality. She would constantly make faces and gagging noises and talk about how gross and nasty cheese is if you so much as eat a grilt cheese near her.

Clearly she made it known that she wasnt on board with it. "NO! FUCK YOU ALL IM NOT GOING TO A PLACE CALLED A CHEESEBARN ON MY BIRTHDAY!!" were her exact words.

But i remembered i was driving, it was my car, and it was supposed to be my birthday too. So I put it to a vote. "Raise your hand if you wanna go to Grandpa's Cheesebarn!"

All hands raise but one. With C out voted we head to the cheesebarn.

Guys. This place is amazing. Its obviously making cheese its main draw, but yhere's so much more, its every shitty midwest tourist trap rolled into one glorious place. There's even a chocolate shop. We even got C's roommate to ditch work and come meet us bc shr heard "Grandpa's Cheesebarn" and knew she had to drop everything.

All in all a good visit, C even seemed like she had fun once we got there (she sure spent $300 on candies and dip mixes anyway). We go home. Things seem fine.

Then C drops off the face of the earth.

She wont respond to our calls or texts and at first we thought maybe she was giing through a rough patch or something and try to just keep reaching out but give her space. But then we find out that not only is she still hanging our with our other friends who couldnt make the trip with us. So clearly she's just pissed at us about something.

Finally one day a few months later i catch her at her job and just tell her "I dont care if you hate us, we'll never speak to you again if you dont want us to, but what the hell did we do to you??"

And she just looked me over and says "Well. You kidnapped me."

lolwut

And she yells (bc this girl loves yelling at people) "YOU KIDNAPPED ME AND TRAPPED ME AT A CHEESEBARN ON. MY. BIRTHDAY!!!!!"

And i just said "Well it was my birthday too," and havent spoken to her since. Its been over a decade and "No ragrets" as we said back in the day, but uts baffled me for years that that was her reaction. "Im just over you guys" i can understand, and its not like she was shy about telling people she hates them and their out of her life ever before. And from what i ended up hearing from our other friends she kept talking with it really was about the cheesebarn and how we "ruined her birthday".

No but srsly AITA??? For making her go to a cheesebarn???

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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savannahsdeath · 9 months

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Hi <33 I love love love your writing and I really want your take on what fucking santa barbara!Ellie would be like if your up to it 🫶🫶

first of all THANK YOU💗💗 and yes ofc i tried my best !!

SANTA BARBARA!ELLIE X READER HEADCANONS + EXAMPLE ONESHOT

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut

writers note: its not like my typical hcs because this ones more like umm with plot?? idk how to say this but i hope ykwim😓ENJOY!!

🌿 she's definitely rough like im sure 100%

🌿 she would degrade you but she also praises you from time to time

🌿 now, hear me out, she doesnt have her usual smirk. like someeetimessss but mostly she looks so stern and focused youre literally scared to make a sound

🌿 she definitely doesnt care about making a mess. shed be sooo sloppy istg!!!!

🌿 she also doesnt care about whatever youre saying. she barely listens. everytime you hit her with a 'stop/too fast' she either completely ignores you or replies with some 'huh? what did you say?' and shed go even faster..

🌿 she def uses strap but also loves just using her fingers. she just wants to feel it ykwimmm

heres an example story(lets skip the plot)

its not really what i meant but whatever😓

You couldn't stop yourself from moaning, what seemed like an invitation for Ellie to shush you by pressing her lips to yours. It silenced you, but not stopped, as your inaudible groans were now caught in Ellie's throat.

You were unable to move, pressed against the wall, so she didnt need to hold you. With her free hands she started undressing you both, knowing you wont be able to do so by yourself. She didn't break the kiss though, only stopping for a second when she had to pull your shirt over your head and didn't have access to your face. She continued right after.

You're not sure when did you moved to the bed, but here you were, laying down beneath her.

She kissed your neck, leaving wet spots on it. She was moving down your body, as you played with her hair, shutting your eyes closed.

Not long after that, a few more of your body parts were red from her nibbling - inner thighs mostly.

Even though she took her time, it didn't take too long. She knew youre impatient and wasn't in mood to mess with you, not yet, not like that.

Soon after, she buried her face between your legs, planting the same messy kisses all over there.

Her hands were holding onto your thighs, preventing them from clenching. You knew her grip will leave bruises, painful ones too, but you didnt care.

Ellie's tongue was definitely doing a good job, playing with your clit, slidding in and out of your entrance.

Her fingers didn't loose up but her thumbs started gently tracing circles on your skin, which definitely made it seem less aggressive.

When she was finished with her mouth, one of her hands took the initiative. She was rubbing two of her fingers for a few short moments, before pushing them in.

You were finally able to see her face - her expression. She looked at you firmly, like one bad move could get you killed.

You were whining and whimpering, desperately begging her to slow down.

"Sh, shhh... Just take what youre given, will you?" The corners of her mouth moved slightly upwards, creating a little smile.

You nodded but continued squirming, your thighs trembling, breath shaking...

"Oh, dont be so dramatic. Youre doing good, you'll handle it, trust me." She reassuringly patted your side. "People survived worse things."

Did that help? Well...

But you knew its the best she can do when it comes to being nice. You couldnt blame her, not after you found out about her past. She killed more people than you ever talked with, after all..

Your mind went blank and you couldnt think of anything to say, so you kept mumbling the two words you always do - 'Ellie' and 'please'. At this point, it seems your mouth remembered how to say these. Your tongue knew exactly what to do to make them come out of your mouth, while it was struggling with any other word.

But it was enough for her to know what you want to say.

When youre finally done (she can tell youre close by the way you scream her name, so she knows when to go faster), she cleans you up with her toned expression.

"See? You'll live, atta fucking girl."

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cripplecharacters · 4 months

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hello! so, i currently have an oc in the works. i dont have much for his character yet, and hes kind of a blank slate at the moment, however, whilst trying to develop him i had the idea to give him a disability; its something i dont do with my characters very often, and i feel like it could give some depth and realism to his character. however, i..... dont know where to really start with it? i have the vague idea that i think id like him to have crutches, so some sort of leg disability, but just going off that its been hard for me to find any condition that feels quite right. im unsure about making him an amputee either; seemingly the "go to" for anyone who wants to make a physically disabled character. i want to try and represent a disability thats less fetishized by the general public, and looking through this blog here its definitely apparent that a lot of people are tired of seeing basic half amputee characters with overly functional prosthetics; i wanna avoid that. sorry this has gotten a bit rambly, but basically what im asking is,, do you have advice for what i could use as just. a general starting point in this? im terribly uneducated and lost at the moment and id love some help. thank you :]

Hi!

It's great that you're interested in writing a disabled character (with care)! I'm always happy to see more writers/artists/creatives do that.

You mentioned wanting to give him crutches, which is cool! Mobility aid users in media make me happy. However, you mentioned crutches as meaning a leg disability, which isn't always the case — and while I don't have statistics on it, I believe that most crutch users do not use them for leg-only problems, and a lot of them have the not-so-fetishized conditions. Here are some suggestions of what you could give your character, which hopefully gives you some ideas. If you need, you can get back to us with a more specific question after you figure out what exactly your character has! :-) (smile)

Cerebral palsy — probably the most common reason for using crutches in non-elderly people, and the most common (physical) disability in younger people in general. If your character has diplegic (meaning lower limbs affected) CP, he could use crutches and if he has hemiplegic (one arm and one leg affected) CP, then he could use a single crutch or a cane. Cerebral palsy is generally extremely underrepresented when compared to how many people have it IRL! Just be aware that there is a lot of research involved just about the condition itself — multiple types (spastic/ataxic/dyskinetic), different kinds of body involvement, tons of different mobility aids and orthotics to learn about. There is also hereditary spastic paraplegia, which is not the same as CP but similar and progressive.

Spinal cord injury — the general assumption is that all people with spinal cord injuries are fully paralyzed below the neck or waist, and that's not the case. If your character has an incomplete SCI on any level or just a very low level injury, he could be using crutches or switch between a wheelchair and crutches. It's essential to research SCIs to have them be more than “legs don't work, but that's literally it”. SCI can come with severe nerve pain, spasticity, atrophy, and a lot of other things. Worth noting that spinal cord injury could be traumatic, but could also be congenital (spina bifida) or illness related (polio, transverse myelitis, spinal stroke, or cancer, for example). You could think that it's overrepresented in media, but SCI is generally just used as a “default condition” for why a character is in a wheelchair, and a lot of these representations are unfortunately very shallow.

Paralysis — in the monoplegic sense here. Much more rare than the rest of the things here, but your character could have a single paralyzed leg, largely due to nerve damage. Could be traumatic or illness-related (e.g., cancer, infection, or multiple sclerosis).

Stroke (and other traumatic/acquired brain injuries) — stroke can cause a million different symptoms and depending on what happens to your character exactly, he might need crutches! A big portion of stroke survivors deal with hemiplegia and could use a crutch on their non-affected side, for example. Some kinds of stroke might cause your character to have troubles with balance and require a mobility aid to not fall. Of course stroke will also cause other symptoms for your character (it wouldn't be too realistic to only have him have problems with his legs) for example speech issues, headaches, or seizures. Stroke can happen to anyone, and it wouldn't be weird to have a younger character with it. Very common in real life but very rarely represented in fiction.

Limb difference — you can definitely write a character with a limb difference or an amputation without fetishizing it! The main concern with the fetishization is the concept of the robotic limb that works just as well as or even better than a meat leg, and thus the character is “fixed”. But your character could just… not use a prosthetic. A lot of congenital amputees, people with limb differences, or with high level (above knee) amputations might do that. He could also have a leg length difference, which could cause him to need crutches (for example, Morteza Mehrzad has one of his legs significantly shorter after a pelvic injury, and he uses crutches among other mobility aids).

Chronic pain — very broad category for too many specific conditions to count. Neuropathy in the legs and/or lower back could be a reason for using crutches, for example. Unhealed, or poorly healed past injuries. Arthritis in knees or hips. Hypermobility that makes him unsteady or dislocate joints. Pain in bones or muscles where he can't fully weight-bear.

Gait disorders — another broad category (sorry). Your character could have problems with his gait and need aids for that. It could be caused by dyspraxia (I have it), ataxia, progressive muscular dystrophy (there is a lot of different types), Parkinson's disease, or a lot of other things! Could also be injury related.

And of course you could have multiple characters that are disabled to make sure that there is some variety :)

I hope that the above list gave you some ideas for your character :-) (smile) if you have more questions, feel free to send another ask

mod Sasza

#anonymous #mod sasza #mobility aids #crutches #disabled character ideas #writing advice #writing disabled characters

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nagitoshopejar · 3 months

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How's how I think the characters would be from my hazbin hotel TK hide in seek scenario

Sorry it's not a lot lol

Charlie:

Hider:

- As a hider I think it would be very easy to find her as she would probably be almost constantly giggling.

- If she is found before anyone else she would definitely help the seeker.

- you CANNOT hide with her. Her giggles will either give away your guys' hiding spot.

- she's not very good at hiding anyways she always hides kind of in an obvious spot but not out in the open.

Seeker:

- will find everyone no exceptions.

- will play the TK monster thing to the point of calling herself the TK monster.

- Husker(who is canonically tkish) is terrified of her in this mood.

- knows everyone's spot

- also knows everyone's point and changes on how she tks someone based on how they react or feel about it.

Vaggie

Hider

- very good hider.

- will help you if you ask nicely.

- mostly plays to make Charlie happy and will stay with Charlie as a seeker.

- Charlie is mostly the reason she's found.

- she will hitch her breath when she hears footsteps.

- secretly enjoys it because of Charlie and will always be not so secretive if Charlie is the seeker

Seeker

- very good at finding

- she is always very gentle on everyone unless someone makes a comment

- I feel like it's not something she particularly gets into it's just she wants to make Charlie happy

- kind of makes it a battlefield

Angel Dust

Hider

- not really into this but he's like deathly tkish so he goes along with the hiding

- it's not that he hates it he just has a reputation to keep

- the type of guy to constantly keep moving and hiding in different spots so he's not found.

- playing it makes him forget about his problems with the studio for a moment

Seeker

- bro is going to find you no matter what

- like this guy will use Fat Nuggets as a sniffer dog and will have him sniff you out

- you know he's near if he's saying some teasy stuff

- always sneaks up on people

- will go for Husker first just to mess with him

- doesn't exactly have a whole process just kind of goes with it

Husker

Hider

- HE IS TERRIFIED

- he is canonically tkish and will screech if you find him

- makes sure to hide well and to try and camouflage or protect himself with his wings.

- will not hide with anyone he is terrified they will give away his position

- will kinda cling on the ceiling like a cat

- he's very careful

Seeker

- thinks this kind of thing is stupid but he has to do it and he ain't got anything better to do lol

- always uses his tail and wings to help him

- he's a cat so he's got like enhanced smell and finds them easily sometimes

- will handle Angel with care

Niffty

Hider

- she can't hide at all she's got to much energy to stay in one spot

- not that she has anything to worry about anyways she ain't tkish at all

- but she will go around and scare all the other demons bc we all know she would lol

- would openly help the seeker

Seeker

- dont

- she takes it to far so she has to supervised because everyone's worried but Charlie wants her to be apart of it so she doesn't feel excluded

- she's a very good finder

-like very good

Alastor

Hider

- he's the best

- he could actually hide but won't because he made a deal

- he's not to tkish but if he can be caught in a laughing fit of static radio noises if you try

- he hides the best he can without poofing away once someone is near.

Seeker

- will exploit every tkish spot that he can

- smiles sadistically and will always find you

- broadcasts your laughs for the other residents to hear as a warning

- it's the closest thing he can get without hurting anyone

- knows everyone's worst spot as well immediately

Sir Pentious

Hider

- tries but his snake tail always gives him away

- that and his eggs

- he's not even that bad at hiding

- he actually loves tks so he doesn't mind

Seeker

- uses his eggs and they all go off in different directions to look for the other residents

- doesn't use his eggs when he does find someone because he doesn't want to torture anyone

- very gentle and careful does not want to hurt anyone he is a sweetheart when he wants to be. But only when he wants to

- enjoys it a lot actually

IM SO SORRY ITS NOT MUCH AND MAY NOT BE THE BEST

It's 12 am and I'm tired as ffff

#sfw tickles #tickle #tickle blog #tickle fight #tickle monster #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #angel dust #huskerdust #hazbin hotel husk #niffty #alastor #sir pentious

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icallhimjoey · 10 months

Note

Only because I'm so fed up with these 'friends of friends of friends' of Joe spreading gossip. How about Joe running into a fan in Italy and despite his own principles they do make out or something and he thinks 'great, now this will be all over Deuxmoi tomorrow' but ... he there's not a beep. Nothing. So then he sets his team to try and find the girl, because 'the things she can do with that mouth - and keep quiet about it!' 😂

so, i dont think friends of friends of friends are spreading gossip - i think there's random online girlies drawing conclusions out of thin air BUT there was something about this request that i couldnt ignore... hope you enjoy my version of italy!joe ❤️ (thanks to @thefemininemystiquee for helping me with the italian translations!) Wordcount: 3.5K

---

Alla ricerca di Cenerentola

Joe fucked up.

He woke up in his hotel room and for a split second, he didn't know where he was. Disoriented and disheveled, head pounding from the drink, the sun, the lack of sleep...

It was hot.

For that lone second, Joe was fully within his body. Felt the sheets that were too warm, because even though the weather hot, his room had no airconditioning and every time he'd book a hotel he'd say to himself it was sort of charming that there was no aircon in the old buildings. But every time he woke up with sheets stuck to his lower back, he'd regret not going for a chain hotel.

Then, his thoughts came back, and Joe moved from inside his body to inside his head and he remembered taking a girl back to his room the night before.

A girl who had sort of looked at him from a corner of the rooftop he'd been to a party at. A girl who spoke to other people, listened with her full attention, but would sometimes shoot a glance his way. A girl who kept her distance, because, that's what strangers do, don't they?

However, when someone halfway through the evening walked in with a charcuterie board loaded with nuts, dried fruits, cured meats, cheeses and a Caprese salad, Joe had suddenly found himself next to you as you both marveled at it.

You clearly knew the person holding the tray. Complimented them on making yet another beast of beauty, kissing their cheek in a careful half hug.

Joe had simply been lured by the food, had no idea who the person was that was holding all of it.

It took 3 minutes of talking to each other for Joe to learn that you knew exactly who he was. Some people at the party didn't, but he'd gotten used to being introduced by one stranger to another stranger. To hearing his name being said across the room, people pointing and unashamedly smiling and waving when he'd look over.

It was all right.

He'd been introduced to people he admired in the same way. Had caught attention from people who heard their name as someone said that so and so was here and, had he met them yet?

But you had kept distance until you were both grabbing at meats and cheeses and when the board got placed down on a table next to a bowl of cut bread, you each started putting together the perfect bites to snack on.

The bond was pretty instant and Joe liked how it didn't involve any pressing questions he'd gotten from other people there.

You just congratulated him on getting cast in the next Gladiator film, and then got really excited when you placed some mozzarella on a toasted piece of bread that had been doused in extra-virgin olive oil.

Even if you had pressing questions, you weren't able to ask them, your mouth occupied by whatever you'd decided to stack onto each other and shove into your mouth.

So, you knew about his next job.

That kind of meant you probably knew more.

Dangerous territory.

Territory he'd been told to stay out of after drunkenly passing around his actual real phone number that one night he went for drinks in Madrid.

Easy fix. He'd just gotten a new number. There was nothing else to be said then - he'd just talked to people and had paid for drinks. Nothing scandalous to bite him in the ass later.

Not like now.

Joe fucked up.

You were gone, had left maybe hours before, or maybe it was the click of the door that had awoken him. He had no idea. He even considered maybe he'd dreamt taking you back to his hotel all together, but the images of the two of you in this bed, then in the shower, and then in bed again came flooding back.

Yea, you definitely had been there. The evidence was there in the smell of his fingers.

That made him remember more. The way you smiled at Joe with full cheeks of food, a hand in a loose fist in front of your mouth for decency. The way you giggled as he shimmied to songs that others sang along to. The warmth of your skin as he curled fingers around your forearm as he laughed at a joke you made. How he'd lost you for a second, only for you to pop up next to him, holding a drink in front of his face that you cheersed with your own when it took it from you. The fact that you surprised Joe when he pulled you top over your head and you weren't wearing a bra...

Joe hadn't intended for the night to end the way it did.

Not at all.

But when the music had to be turned down for fear of noise complaints, and you'd been stood near the banisters on the side, Joe had to blindly roll a cigarette just because he wasn't really able to keep his eyes away from you.

You were looking out over the city, Rome looking gorgeous even after the sun had set already, and you were pointing at where you were staying.

"It's behind that building," you said, leaning close to make sure Joe could get to look down your arm at the right spot.

"Which one?" Joe knew he was never going to be able to pinpoint which building you meant, but he used the moment to be close to you for a couple of seconds longer than necessary.

You smelled like tangerine and vanilla. Sickly sweet and summery.

His eyes never left you.

"Behind the yellow one, see that one, there?"

They were all fucking yellow, weren't they?

"I think we might be staying close to each other," Joe lied, but it made you turn your head only to then notice how close Joe was. How he was looking at you.

Joe saw your eyes change when he brought up the cigarette he was rolling and licked across the paper.

Yea, he was going to take you back to his hotel room.

Or he'd let you drag him along to yours.

Either way, Joe was going to get his dick wet. If you were up for it, that was.

Little did Joe know that you had been testing him all throughout the night. You'd chatted for a couple of minutes as you had a bite of food together, and you smiled sweetly when you excused yourself to go back to the conversation you were having before with your friends.

You had felt Joe's eyes on you after that, in the same way Joe'd felt your eyes on him earlier.

Moving around the party, you'd noticed how Joe's eyes followed. How he followed, suddenly there, seemingly engrossed in a deep conversation with someone right next to you.

Until swiftly Joe was a part of your conversation.

He hadn't left you after that.

Was this smart? Was this going to be a problem? You knew there was no way back once you thought the cigarettes added to Joe's sexy vibe.

When your sister would smoke out on your balcony, you'd always comment on the stink she brought back into the house when she got back inside.

Now? The smell didn't bother you all that much.

Yea, you were going to take Joe back to your hotel room.

Or you'd let Joe drag you back to his.

Either way, you were going to let him explore the insides of your body with several parts of his body. If he was up for it, that was.

But now it was the morning, so bright outside already, and Joe was alone. He checked his phone, which was on his bedside table, off the charger.

Dead.

Fuck.

Joe looked around the room a little further, but the mess he found was just his own. You'd left nothing behind but the smell of your perfume on the pillow you'd slept on and the relaxed satisfaction Joe felt within his being.

Thirst in his throat. Sweat on his brow. Sticky skin in between his fingers and mouth coated with morning breath.

Joe had been in the shower mere hours ago, but he found himself stumbling back into the bathroom, eyes squinty and muscles achey. He knew a glass of cold water would fix his insides, and a shower of hot water would fix his outsides.

Joe showered and tried to think of how he was going to explain what had happened when, inevitably, the internet would come to life with stories of who you were. Of who you weren't. Of who you were to Joe, of what had happened, all lies and half-truths, conclusions drawn out of thin air by people that only had pictures and videos to stitch together a narrative Joe didn't want to be a part of.

That was, unless you were the one to share the information. That possibility was always there.

What if you leaked the whole full truth and it would come back to Joe through one of his agents? He'd be advised not to comment. Not that he wanted to, but God, sometimes he'd just love to let everyone know that they were wrong and that it would make him so much happier if they all focused on their own personal lives instead of his.

But, you seemed normal enough.

It was risky to assume, but Joe kind of didn't want to assume different.

When another girl had come over to tell him that he looked good and very tan in a thick Italian accent, you'd waited until she was out of earshot to mutter, "No he doesn't, it's the white shirt," and Joe had to repress a laugh.

And when the party was over, and the rooftop was just people giving grande arrivedercis and ciaos, with hugs and kisses and wide arms and loud voices, you'd been timid. Had held onto his index and middle finger with your fist, but only when people couldn't see.

Confirmation of where the night was headed was small and secretive. Just how Joe liked it.

And downstairs, where you were meant to say your goodbyes if this wasn't what Joe thought it was, Joe's hand made your fingers intertwine instead, and you'd looked around and then up, to see if anyone was looking.

Joe appreciated that.

The lack of need to be seen with him.

Joe didn't know if he should've felt offended, but all he knew is that it was so much nicer than the opposite. Than girls pulling Joe into hugs for pictures without so much as a hello. Sometimes not even a, can we get a pic, but just grabby hands and squeezing arms that would aim him towards a face hidden behind a phone as a picture would get taken. Or eight.

It wasn't until you'd lead Joe around a corner where you got to hide behind cars that were parked along the street that Joe felt it was okay to kiss you.

Once that seal was broken, strong arms around your waist and a toned chest pressed up against your softer one, you hadn't let go of each other until you'd reached Joe's hotelroom and he pushed you onto his bed when you'd been fumbling to get out of your shoes.

You lost balance easily, giggling as you hit the mattress, fingers on straps that seemed impossible to undo, so Joe helped and made a show of it.

Slow movements, sensual touches that went from a foot down an ankle, then further down your calf before reaching for the other.

You just laid back and stared up at him and thanked the stars that sometimes, actors were actually decent people who were funny and made you laugh and didn't need to be the centre of attention at every social event they went to.

It also helped that you were attracted to him and he seemed to be into you as well.

You trusted you wouldn't be where you were if that wasn't the case, anyway.

Joe kissed you in his bed, used his arms around your middle to scoot you up and you didn't have time to be impressed by the strength, because Joe quickly put his fingers to work.

Then his mouth too.

Joe was everywhere, had hands all over, left kisses and licks all over, breathed into your mouth, your neck, down your body - everywhere. Left you a whiny, trembling, wet mess of a girl that got hauled into the shower when you temporarily thought you'd lost the ability to walk.

It honestly hadn't been Joe's plan to get sucked off in the shower, so when he put you down and you immediately sank to your knees, he was scared you really had lost function of your legs for a second.

It was just that Joe was hard, and, you know, he'd made you orgasm twice.

Time to return the favour.

"Oh my God, are you all ri– oh... oh, fuck..."

Joe never finished the question.

Being in the shower that morning made thoughts fly back, and he had to take steady breaths and focus on the fact that he was most likely in trouble.

Joe'd fucked, and thus Joe'd fucked up.

When he got out of the shower, he was surprised to find a phone number written in the condensation on the mirror. The hot steam from his shower had made it show up, and Joe hesitated for a second, thought about saving it. Writing it down somewhere, since the battery of his phone was still dead.

He looked a second longer before he wiped a hand over it.

Better not.

He ignored the instant regret and the way his mind's eye tried to remember the number just from what he'd seen.

No, better not.

Joe waited for a phone call. Even a text. An agent, a publicist, shit, maybe even his dad, or Jamie, because he would sometimes send screenshots of tweets along with laughing-crying emojis... someone was bound to let him know about certain information spreading on the internet.

You'd kissed each other in the street, for fuck's sake.

But then a day passed, any Joe heard nothing.

Then a week, and still nothing.

Every time Joe spoke to someone, he'd wait for something to be brought up.

It never was.

Shit.

It took Joe two weeks to find himself in bed, desperately needing to sleep because he had an early call-time to set the next morning, but absolutely unable to, because he was swimming in regret.

He should've saved that phone number.

Should've written it down just in case, you know? He could've easily done that without ever actually using it... why the fuck hadn't he? Idiot.

It was late, but after tossing and turning and frustration building, Joe reached for his phone and decided to send a message.

How was he going to get your contact details?

Who did you know at that party?

Surely, you'd know the birthday girl.

Joe didn't have her number. Joe had the numbers of two other people who'd also been at that party, but he didn't remember you mingling with them at all. They probably didn't know you.

Still, worth a shot.

"Hey mate, scusa l’orario, so che è tardi, but I’ve got a quick question…"

Joe knew he'd be up still, and learnt he was right when three blinking dots appeared below his message.

"Tardi? È presto! Are you still in Rome? Esci con noi!"

Joe snorted a laugh. Fuck, he'd love to be in Rome still. Missed it. Late nights, good drink, good food, always great company... He promised himself he'd go back the second he could.

"Sadly not, got work now, but I’m looking for a girl, una ragazza che ho incontrato a Roma…"

Joe waited, hoped his friend knew who he was talking about. Then his phone buzzed with a reply,

"Non sarai per caso alla ricerca di Cenerentola?"

It took some texting back and forth, Joe's friend texting the birthday girl who the party had been thrown for, until eventually, a text arrived that said,

"Ti farò sapere when I hear from her, Romeo"

Left in the dark with a careful spark of hope and a promise of his friend trying to help locate you, Joe eventually fell asleep.

The next day, a cast mate commented on Joe's bouncing leg. Said he'd been buried in his phone which seemed uncharacteristic. Worried eyes asked if everything was okay, and Joe sighed. Smiled. Explained he was waiting to hear from someone.

Who?

Joe didn't even know your name, but was hoping to find out today.

"...you don't know who you're waiting to hear from?"

Yea that sounded weird no matter how he tried to frame it.

Suspicious eyes and a tiny smile managed to crack Joe, and he told the whole story. Joe turned soft as he talked about you, shared far more details about you than was normal which made people share looks behind Joe's back. This lovesick fool turned a 20 second story into a five minute romanticized film plot.

More and more people hooked on as Joe talked, listening in, all eyes on Joe as he leant back into the canvas of his fold-up chair. By the end someone said,

"This story sounds familiar... did she, perhaps, leave a shoe behind? Like, a glass slipper maybe?"

It earned snickers from the group. Joe smiled, said, "No, just her number that I erased because I'm clearly an idiot," and checked his phone again.

Still nothing.

"That's too bad... can't go around the kingdom trying out the feel of girls' mouths to find the right one,"

People smacked each other's chests and shoulders as they laughed. Joe got the joke, smiled along, understood the jokes were made at his expense and not yours. They obviously didn't get it. They hadn't seen you shake your shoulders in a silly dance. Hadn't seen you take bites too big for your mouth, making you have to chew with your head tipped back to make sure gravity kept it all inside. Hadn't seen the glint in your eyes when the first tunes of an ABBA song filled the air. Hadn't felt how soft your skin was. How plush your lips were. The taste of you...

No.

They just didn't understand, and that was fine. They didn't need to.

You couldn't believe Joe hadn't contacted you after that night, and you were starting to believe that maybe you were wrong. Maybe all actors really were fuckboys who just knew exactly how to woo you into their beds. This one had really fooled you good, and you'd sulked for a few days after. Really sulked. Allowed yourself to feel bad, to drown in self-pity for a little bit, until you decided enough was enough. You could have that gorgeous night just be that; a gorgeous night.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Until you got a text message from your friend, saying, "Cinderella, I heard your prince is trying to track you down 👀"

Joe spent a few more hours bouncing his leg. Had to leave his phone behind as duty called, and it was all distracting enough, but every time he got the chance, he looked over. Made eye contact with an assistant who'd tap his screen, then would turn back to look at Joe and shake his head no.

That happened a few times.

Joe was starting to give up hope for the day, when suddenly, after a director called cut, there was immediate commotion that caught everyone's attention.

Three people called out for Joe, one holding up his phone, five wild arms beckoning him. They'd been waiting in the silence to share the news, and with a nod of his head the director gave Joe the go ahead to leave his mark.

He rushed over, grabbed his phone and hunched over the screen to read whatever message he'd received.

"Well, well, well... Emperor Caracalla, I heard you were looking for me?"

Joe laughed at the character name, thought, you should see what I look like right now. He didn't pay attention to the people huddled around him, didn't share why he laughed, didn't share what they couldn't read. Just texted you back instead.

"I was, does the glass slipper fit?"

Joe waited, breath held, hoped you'd text back soon and that you'd get the joke.

Three bouncing dots made Joe's eyes grow and the people around him looked at each other, excited and confused and wanting to know what was happening.

"Like a glove "

Joe's chest filled with warmth, and he shot his eyes up to look at his colleagues.

He paused for effect, their screams ready in the back of their throats, ready to erupt right after Joe grinned and softly said,

"Found her."

---

The Taglisted:

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellyxo1 @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @ohmeg @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @roosterisdaddy36 @alwayslindie @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-eddie @alizztor @frootvelvet @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsmunson @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @harringtonfan4 @emma77645 @tlclick73 @eddies-puppet @mvnsoneddie86 @everythinghasafacee @a-time-for-wolvess @lucifers-side @barfightzanddiscolightz

(taglist currently full, sorry!)

#italy!joe #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #rpf #icallhimjoey #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n

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taraprince · 1 year

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dude i just loved the nsfw abc of l, sooo, i was wondering if you can write another but with light, idk theres no much people here who writes for the dn, so if you want and can please 😭😭 i promise i'll give you support forever 😭

nsfw warning

OFC I CANN AHH 🫶🫶

i actually had this like half way written before this question was even asked 😭

I ❤️ LIGHT SM omg you don’t even know how fun this was to write (i kinda got carried away on some parts)

// implied afab reader, but can be justified as GN for most parts. mentions words like cunt and clit once or twice and uses feminine terms such as goddess //

LIGHT YAGAMI NSFW ABC’S ~

A (aftercare) - he’s surprisingly very caring and sweet after sex, despite how rough and harsh he can be during. he prepares a nice warm bath for the two of you and makes sure to hold you close, keeping you right where he needs you.

B (bottom or top) - 100% a top without a doubt. though he always assures you that you two will be hand in hand as the rulers of his new world, he simply cannot be equals during your time of intimacy. he must remain dominant or he feels he has failed in some way.

C (cum) - he never ever wears condoms. his thought is; “why have sex if your just going to keep up a barrier?”. he just loves cumming inside you, with the idea in the back of his mind that one day he can have a little successor running around.

D (dress up) - he prefers you both be fully unclothed during sex so you can worship each other through and through, but he won’t complain if you dress up in a little lingerie for him every once in a while.

E (experience) - he definitely knows what hes doing. he’s been with countless other people before and has done these same sinful things; but he assures you that none of them could ever compare to how good you are for him.

F (fav position) - it drives him crazy when you bend over his desk and let him do as he pleases from the back. it shows him that you not only respect his dominance, but also know your place below him.

G (goofy) - you would never dare laugh during sex with light. everything he says and does is genuine; and you would never want to hurt his ego by laughing at his words of intimacy, would you?

H (hair) - hes very neat and kept, as expected. he really pushes you to be the same, and will likely refuse if you don’t keep yourself shaven.

I (intimacy) - he is extremely intimate and flirty during sex. he has so many cute little pet names for you, and knows exactly what turns you on. “does that feel good, my goddess~? you love being treated so nicely by kira dont you~? i can feel just how wet i make you, love; isn’t that so naughty, getting off to a serial killer~?”

j (jack off) - he has a pretty high sex drive, but he doesn’t have time to fuck you all the time, so he often resorts to jerking off under his desk while he kills people (oh my god what a sight isjdjdjd). when he’s feeling scandalous, he’ll send you videos of him jerking off to pictures and videos of you he’s taken during sex.

k (kink) - he goes insane when you call him your god / kira in bed. it makes him so happy that you know his worth and stand under him so willingly. he also adores binding you to his headboard with his crimson red tie, leaving you in absolutely no control.

l (location) - his favorite spot is over his desk, having you display yourself openly to him, ready to take anything he gives you. he also loves just standardly taking you on the bed; but all in all he doesn’t really care where you two have sex.

m (massages) - you ask, you shall receive. he knows that he can be a bit much for you sometimes, so he’s happy to help you unwind however he can (and he secretly hopes that maybe if he touches the right spot you two can squeeze in another round before bed~)

n (no) - he’s up for a lot of things, all you need to do is ask, but there’s a few things he absolutely won’t do. one of them being abusing the death note powers while in bed. yes, sometimes he has you under his desk stuffing your face with his pretty cock while he writes names, but that’s different. he’d never want to use the note while hes inside your sopping cunt; let alone to threaten you. he’d never write your name down, or at least he’d never want to.

o (oral) - he’s big on receiving. like i mentioned, he gets off to you sucking him dry under the desk while he murders people. loves to see your pretty face covered in his cum after he’s done. he also adores going down on you, though. after a long day of killing people, sometimes he’s just too tired to take over your sobbing cunt with his cock, as much as he wants to. so instead he has you on his desk, hands gripping your plush thighs firmly while he works his magnificent tongue along your body.

p (pace) - likes to go at a rougher pace (and just loves hearing you beg him to slow down), but if you use your safe word, he’ll be more gentle with you and make sure you’re okay.

q (quickie) - is 50/50 on them. he would like to be able to enjoy fucking you thourougly, but sometimes he just needs to relieve some built up stress he has (which is a LOT). being a god isn’t easy.

r (risk) - is all for it. he’s banged you in numerous public places; it gives him a sort of rush that he doesn’t get anywhere else. the thought of being caught by someone is so exciting, and he almost hopes that someone could walk in on you two so he could show them how obedient you are for your god. setting such a great example for the people of the new world.

s (stamina) - you swear he can go on forever. usually, you two stop after a few rounds due to you getting tired, but there’s really only been once or twice that he’s gotten tired and collapsed on top of your exposed chest.

t (toys) - he loves teasing you with a small vibrator up against your swollen clit, esspecially while he watches you squirm and beg him to fuck you properly. he also adores tying up your arms somehow, making sure you know who owns you.

u (unfair) - light is the worst when it comes to teasing. he’ll tease you for hours until your sobbing uncontrollably and begging him to let you cum. he does always give you what you want in the end though, don’t worry

v (volume) - he tries to stifle any sound he makes, afraid if will make him look more human and less like a god, but every now and then you’ll hear him groan or softly mumble your name in ecstasy.

w (wild card) - since he is kira, he sometimes always 💀has to manipulate people so they give him what he wants. so don’t be surprised if he comes home after a long day and tells you how he had sex with another woman. but he assures you; “she was nowhere even near as good for me as you, my goddess. you always take me so well, your so obedient. you always know what i want~ you just love pleasing your god, don’t you~?”

x (x ray) - hes a big guy, and oh my god his cock is huge. around 9-9.5 inches, with a pretty good girth

y (yearning) - like i mentioned, surprisingly really high sex drive. he tries to stifle it though, he doesn’t want to be thinking of your pretty face while writing down names, now does he?

z (zzz) - he usually falls asleep a good 30 minutes to an hour after you. he just loves to cuddle up to you and think about all the good things going for him at the moment.

AN: AH ANOTHER ONE DONE 💪 i’m actually pretty proud of this tbh. i also noticed on my L nsfw abcs I FORGOT M 🙁🙁 i’m not gonna go back and redo it now ig but i noticed that when i was going back and forth to make sure i got the abcs right. anyways TYSM FOR THE ASK ILYY MWA MWA 💍💍❤️❤️❤️ THX FOR READING

#smut #light yagami smut #light yagami x reader #death note smut #light yagami x you #death note x you #smut alphabet

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cruciomione · 5 months

Text

yin and yang: carmy and sydney's creative processes + menu planning

what i love about analyzing carmy and sydney is the way they mirror each other. their similarities and differences, and how they have the potential to complement each other well. truly make each other better at this.

this is most evident with the way they approach creating a dish.

sydney's creative process

evidenced by sheridan (s01e05) and sundae (s02e03), sydney is very imaginative when it comes to creating a dish. the editing in these episodes gives us an intimate view of her creative process. recipes often come to her in dreams/daydreams.

sydney gets inspired by her passion for cooking, her family history and her city/world around her (architecture, nature, other restaurants in Chicago). this really fits into sydney's motivations as a chef.

Sydney uses food to make people happy. She likes to take care of people. someone on here explained the significance of sydney wanting exactly one michelin star, which would signify affordable high quality food that normal everyday people have access to. in braciole she mentions to marcus that her dad and her didn't really go out to eat so when they did, they made it count and it was special. she wants to create an experience like that with her own spot (the Bear).

so naturally that is reflected in her food. its not simply a great meal, but a fabric/archive of her culture, history, worldview and entire character.

while sydney has a very imaginative creative process, she often just jots down her ideas in her little notebook(s), for later reflection.

carmy's creative process

carmy has a more tense relationship with cooking. while sydney and carmy are both amazing chefs, carmy seems to be more jaded and detached from his work.

for carmy he grew up in a household where food was a big part of his family. his mom, mikey, and nat can all cook well. he is naturally very great at it. he uses food to be closer to the people he loves. thats why in the face of rejection from his brother, he goes off and becomes one of the best chefs in the country out of spite. why he uses the beef to try and fix his relationship with mikey. why he was so devasted when syd quit and why he started his dream restaurant with her after she came back.

because we dont get an intimate look into carmys psyche when creating a dish, its harder to say but based off his monolouge in braciole (s01e8) and the way he uses food to connect with people he loves rather than having passion for it independently i can surmise that carmy isn't imaginative as sydney. food is more like a math equation (ironic)/a science.

“he’s the best bc he didn’t have any of the bullshit”, emotional ties/relationships of any kind. his career esp at EMP were isolating, rigid and cold. he was the best bc he was calculating, precise and competitive. which breeds excellence in his field while straying him further away from love and true passion.

i imagine carmy to be more pragmatic with creating a dish.

but carmy is a creative person at his core and while creating a dish might not be as colorful as when sydney does it. we do know that carmy can draw and visualize his ideas onto paper. "Sistine Chapel" level drawings according to syd.

sydney + carmy - potential true partnership

on my 3rd rewatch, i couldn't help but feel so dissatisfied with their partnership. granted this is on purpose since the show is only 2 seasons in and they are trying to do a slow burn in all aspects, not just romantic.

it really hit me that carmy and sydney have never - at least on screen - created a meal together. in s1, we never see the risotto come to fruition, we just get carmys input but never the finished product. in s2 finally, carmy and Sydney work together now that their dynamic has changed from boss and employee to partners. we get like what? 4 scenes of them creating the menu, and having this amazing professional chemistry but ultimately leads to two failed dishes, which would be ok if they worked together after that. but they dont...

instead for the rest of the season, we see them (mainly Syd) working on the menu separately. the menu is....alright. mainly has carmy written all over it (he has a the seven fishes + cannolis, weird homage to one of the worst nights of his life).

*putting on another pair of shipper goggles to say this makes the whole "you make me better at this" confession, even more mind-boggling bc better at what? you guys haven't even worked together all season. this = life , i rest my case*

in s3 and beyond, im excited for them to truly start working together as partners and actually see them create a dish together.

i want to see how their approaches to creating a dish can help the other.

how sydneys creative process can help carmy

besides the obvious romantic implications of the palette cleanser outing, the potential for them to understand each other on a deeper level in regards to food is something i mourn everyday.

after sydney goes on her trip solo, we see her ride the ferry and just take a look at her surroundings. shes thinking about the food she ate, shes looking at buildings, windows, looking at the snow. all inspiration for a dish.

imagine if carmy was there with her. he would be curious about what she's thinking about, get insight on how she creates and maybe want to learn to see food in a less practical way.

i mean he hadn't drawn in years it seems until he was inspired by sydney and the chaos menu to draw again....now imagine if he didn't ruin the moment by bringing up claire (LMFAO). the point is, sydney naturally sparks creativity and passion in him, even when they aren't together.

i know many people are theorizing that carmy will leave the culinary industry (and i agree most of the time) but i also think sydney is slowly but surely helping him discover/re-discover a passion for cooking. i think that carmy likes that sydney likes to take care of people because subconsciously he knows he does the same thing or has the potential for it (i.e making tiff sprite from scratch when she was experiencing morning sickness). evidenced by fishes (s02e6), care often feels like an obligation (he takes care of drunk donna when shes going through an episode) but it doesnt have to be this way. and now carmy wants to get a star for her....their interests are slowly aligning.

how carmys creative process can help sydney

this isn't as concrete as the one above but i found it interesting thinking about how carmys more pragmatic approach and sydneys idealistic approach can work in tandem.

first scene in pop (s02e5) shows sydney and tina late at night working on the tasting menu. later in the episode we find out that carmy has been pushing back menu planning leaving sydney on her own. she trying an elements concept which is extremly creative and impressive but even tina says, which sydney later agrees, that its a lot for a tasting menu.

im stretching maybe....but based on carmys comment on her risotto from the season before (needs acid) + his practical approach, it seems like he acts like a buffer when sydneys ideas get "a lot".

*in chemistry buffers are solutions added to resist pH changes when acidic and basic components are added*

so if carmy needs to be more creative and sometimes sydneys ambitions gets ahead of her....

sydney is the heart, while carmy is the brain (???)

one cannot work without the other. when they truly come together to create the menu, they both need to learn from one another to elevate the restaurant. not to mention with carmy's italian american roots and syd's Nigerian-Caribbean/southern roots, they have the potential for amazing fusion dishes and real partnership. i and others want the menu to physically reflect both of them.

conclusion

i literally dont know where im going with this. sorta kinda meta but its more like hopes and dreams for next season and me wanting to type my ideas down.

they complement each other well ok? and have potential for a great partnership once they communicate better. i like this part of the definition of yin and yang: Their interaction is thought to maintain the harmony of the universe and to influence everything within it.

carmy and Sydney are the leaders of the bear, their relationship is foundational to the success of their restauarnt and team, once they work together truly, play to their strengths and weaknesses, then will come true harmony in their universe.

bonus

more sydcarm parallels/similaries/differences/yin yang moments:

carmys gold chain, syds silver earrings

carmys white t-shirts, syds white button ups

carmy is bad at math, syds great with numbers

carmy wasn't really great at school, this is sorta fanon but i can imagine syd excelled in school

both wear birkenstocks (more a chef thing but i still think its cute)

sunshine x grumpy trope but like better...usually the sunshine (syd) is more emotionally vulnerable making a space for grumpy (Carm), but they switch positions. carmy allows sydney to be more emotionally vulnerable often initiating deep conversations, while syd is more closed up/guarded

overall tho i think its cute that they are both shy/emotionally stunted but i do think purely aesthetic wise, sydney has a softer exterior ( doe eyes, colourful scarves, awkward) while carmy is more intimidating (tats, smokes, looks angry all the time)

both fight dirty - i.e their individual fights with richie (review, the bear)

carmy tho is more prone to outbrusts of anger/violence while sydney lets that shit shimmer until she explodes on you

both their passcode being 11111

carmy having dark mode on his phone, syd having light mode in s2

their matching clothes moments earlier in the second season and in bolognese

if theres more, pls comment/reblog, bc i always think of this shit and need more to cry about

fin!

credits: gif 1&2 , gif 3 and gif 4

#the bear #sydcarmy #the bear fx #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #sydcarmy meta #carmen x sydney #chefs kiss #its so late man i dont even care if this doesnt make sense im rambling #the bear meta

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ynkfva · 7 days

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i think i finally understand why i hate luo bingge so much

i usually love the kind of character he is: vengeful, merciless, villainous. im all the way down for villains with a reason for them to be evil (and if you think bingge is anything BUT a villain, youre wrong). but i didnt felt that way toward bingge. and that really bothered me

there is a very thin line between revenge and cruelty. but its still there. and bingge crossed that line

that 👇👇 is the best way i could explain the difference

lets be honest: in ancient china, there was nothing wrong with a teacher physically abusing a student. it was common even. im not saying its okay but it HAPPENED and A LOT. for gods sake, it was normal in my country to teachers beat students until the 90s! even after that!

im not saying shen jiu was right, or what he did a good thing, because it wasnt. abuse is always abuse, and it should be treated as it is. but lets take Bai Zhan Peak as an example. Liu Qingge beat the shit out of his disciples, and no one batted an eye

but thats not my point right now, my point is: Luo Bingge was not "cool" for "taking revenge" cause what he did was not revenge, it was pure CRUELTY

!!Spoiler alert!!

it would be revenge if he hit shen jiu with a whip several times. it would be revenge if he made him do forced domestic work. it would be revenge, if he made him go through the same suffering that shen qingqiu put him through in the abyss

but no.

he made the entire cultivation world see sqq again as nothing more than the slave he was, he ripped off shen jiu's legs and arms, he tortured him for god knows how much time, he let his wives torture him, he destroyed the ENTIRE sect that had nothing to do with it, and he killed the only person shen qingqiu really cared about

and dont get me started on how he destroyed earth by bringing together the demonic and human worlds

lets use a metaphor for better understanding: theres a perfectly balanced scale between you, and every other person. And when someone hurts you, theres this natural desire to push back. To seek justice. To bring those scales back into balance. But when you do the other side of the scale never dipped below the balancing point

and thats not what bingge wanted. he didnt want the scale to be equal

because even if things were restored exactly to the way they were before, shen jiu would never knew what bingge felt like

he would never be brought down. And THATS what bingge wanted

he didnt wanted justice for what shen jiu did to him. he didnt wanted revenge either. he wanted to be cruel

he turned into a monster

and that make me sick

i honestly cant stand seeing people praising bingge as if he was a good person for doing what he did

#svsss #scum villian self saving system #scum villain #scumbag system #luo binghe #luo bingge #original luo binghe #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #original shen qingqiu #mxtx

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theemissuniverse · 6 months

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NSFW NIGHTWOLF HEADCANONS WITH FEM!READER

A/N: nobody and I mean NOBODY asked for this but if y’all ain’t gonna do my man justice then I WILL.

WARNINGS : MINORS DONT INTERACT. obvi smut

MASTERLIST

In a relationship, Nightwolf is typically a soft!dom. He doesn’t ever mind to be submissive to you. Nightwolf just prefers pleasing you and making you a pillow princess

Nightwolf absolutely prefers to make love to you than anything else. If you want it rough, he’s willing to go rough but if it were up to him the sex would be slow and sensual.

Nightwolf prefers giving than receiving. Sometimes he refuses to even get off and help you get off. His favorite pastime is definitely eating you out

One thing Nightwolf will do is praise and body worship you. You two don’t even have to be having intimacy. For example, if you make a good meal then he’ll come up behind you. He’ll wrap his arms around your waist and whisper how good it was. How much of an amazing job you did and how amazing you are. But when you’re in the bedroom it’s never ending. “You look so good like this.” “I don’t deserve you. You are too good for me.” “Keep going for me, love. I know you can do it.”

Nightwolf is neither an “ass” guy or a “boob” guy. He doesn’t understand the concept of liking one more than the other and loves all of you equally.

7 times out of 10, you have to initiate intimacy. It is not like Nightwolf doesn’t want to. He just doesn’t have a high sex drive as most people. He also does not want to bother you with it. But if it’s just to get you off and involves him eating you out then he’s definitely up for it.

Nightwolf doesn’t exactly have a preferred position. Whatever the two of you are in the mood for in the moment then he will do it. However, he doesn’t really care for positions where he can see your face. (Like doggy style for example)

Nightwolf is obsessed to get you to cum and cum first. You are the only thing that he focuses on. He does not care for his own pleasure. He wants to make sure you’re enjoying it. If he cums before you, he’ll be mad at himself and if his body can’t take another round, he’ll just resort to doing what he does best: eating you out.

The Nightwolf will not do anything extreme. Nothing. You cannot convince this man. He will not degrade you or do ANYTHING he deems as unnecessary and horrid. He likes to keep it traditional in the bedroom.

A thing that turns on Nightwolf is physical touch. It doesn’t have to be sexual. Just you caressing his face, holding his hand, giving him a back rub, and coming to hug him from behind makes him feel like he is at home. You are his peace.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat nightwolf #mortal kombat headcanons #mortal kombat smut #mk smut #mk headcanons #mk nightwolf #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat 11 #liu kang #kung lao #kitana #mk #raiden #johnny cage #mileena #kenshi takahashi #mk fujin

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babybluebex · 2 years

Note

*claps hands together* okay SO. listen. even though i know some people dont like it, i am kind of a sucker for “tomboy character gets femmed up and male protagonist falls for them hard” cliche, and imagining that with a fem!reader (or just a kinda fem enby like myself) who’s one of eddies childhood friends SENDS me 😭 ofc no pressure!! your writing is wonderful as always and take all the time you need 🥰

𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re not exactly a girly-girl, but, after corroded coffin is booked to play prom, you decide to surprise your best friend with a dress and a confession. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson (stranger things) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: tomboy!reader, a LOT of fluff, brief blood mention 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: eek thanks for sending in this request! i had such a good time writing it!

You didn’t usually give much thought to dances or school functions, or really school at all. All of the events, be it homecoming or the Snowflake Ball or that weird assembly about saying no to drugs, were a complete snooze fest. Even prom irked you. Who would actually want to hang around the gymnasium and drink flat punch for hours and listen to whatever crappy band was hired out for the night? The concept of it never struck any flame inside you, so you never cared about it.

Until this prom. Until Corroded Coffin.

“How the fuck,” you started, tossing a crumb at Eddie as he strutted proudly around the lunch table. “Did you manage to get Higgins to hire your sorry-ass band to play prom?”

“I can be persuasive!” Eddie returned quickly, dodging your crumb with a smile. “Anyway, I also told him that it would motivate me in my schoolwork.”

“How would that…” you began with a roll of your eyes. “Never mind, I don’t wanna know how you smooth-talked that away. So, you’ve got your Saturday booked up. What happened to renting Halloween, like we talked about?”

“We can still do that,” Eddie told you quickly. “Prom officially ends at 11, then I’ve got the rest of the night for my favorite girl.”

Your heart swept up into your throat as he passed behind you, his hand lightly trailing your shoulder. You and Eddie had been through thick and thin since meeting, way back in preschool, and he loved you like you were his sister. You, however, had something festering in your heart.

It had happened back years ago, despite the awful buzzed hairstyle that he had rocked all through junior high. Somewhere between seventh and eighth grade, you had developed a huge crush on your best friend, one that had consumed every second of every day. And now, your last year of high school (and Eddie’s third senior year), your crush had managed to dull down to less all-consuming and more… Loving.

You didn’t have a crush on your best friend, you loved him. And soon you would leave him for college. You worried if your friendship would survive the distance, but, the one time you had talked to Eddie about it, he had assured you that he would write and visit every chance he got. But, as the time drew nearer and nearer, it felt less likely to happen. He would get a job, you would move, and you’d never have time for each other, and, eventually, he would only be that guy you used to know.

Spending time with Eddie mattered to you, and you were only slightly hurt that Eddie would drop your plans to perform at the stupid fucking prom. He had never gone to prom, nor had you ever heard him express any interest in going, and you groaned at him. “Since when do you even wanna go to prom?” you asked.

“Since I decided that this is my last chance to,” Eddie said, and he finally settled down in his chair at the head of the lunch table. “I’m fuckin’ done with Hawkins High, and I’m gonna graduate and leave this place in my dust. I don’t have anything to lose. Anyway, it’s a gig. I’ll get paid. We can rent Halloween and buy some snacks. Sounds like a good deal to me.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m going,” you told him.

“Going where?” Eddie asked, and you coughed out a laugh.

“To prom, dork,” you returned. “I wanna see you guys perform.”

“Really?” Eddie asked with a furrow of his eyebrows. “Prom isn’t my scene, but it’s really not your scene. Don’t torture yourself just ‘cause you wanna spend time with little ole me.”

“What do you mean it’s ‘not my scene’?” you asked, and you stole a carrot off of Dustin’s lunch tray. The freshman gasped at you, and you jokingly mocked his gasp before giving him an exaggerated pout. “Prom can be my scene.”

“You just don’t…” Eddie started. “Getting all dressed up and everything, I know you hate that.”

“You’re right,” you sighed, slumping back in your chair. “But you never know, I might surprise you and show up. It’s just a Corroded Coffin gig, right?”

“We’re gonna be playing dumb covers,” Eddie grumbled. “We were given a very specific list of dos and don’ts. No heavy metal, nothing vulgar—”

“So, you’re a cover band for the night,” you giggled, and Eddie scrunched up his face in fake-annoyance before he tossed a pretzel in your direction. It hit your cheek and fell down into your lap, and you grinned as you plucked it up and ate it. “I know how you feel about musical integrity, Eds.”

“Yeah, well, integrity goes out the window when you get paid,” Dustin chuckled, and Eddie flashed him a dirty look. “Well, doesn’t it?”

“Whatever,” Eddie said. “Fuck you guys. If you wanna show up to prom, do it. See if I care.”

“I will,” you told him, and you stuck your tongue out at Eddie at the same time that he stuck his out at you. “And I’ll watch you care so much.”

Prom, unluckily for you, was only 3 days out. You hated the idea of dressing up for it, just as Eddie had predicted you would. You hated the whole glitz and glamour thing, and the thought of intentionally getting all dolled up with hair and makeup and some big dress and heels made you feel sick. But, you considered, it was for Eddie. You would do a lot for him, this included.

The problem came with the dress. Dresses were scarce in your closet, let alone something really nice, and you knew that no stores would have anything like what you wanted that was even remotely in your price range on such a short notice.

On the night, just hours short of prom, you chewed your lip as you held the phone to your chest, debating if you truly wanted to do this, and you rolled your eyes as you got over yourself. It was Eddie— you could show up in a potato sack and he’d still call you pretty.

You quickly dialed Mike Wheeler’s number, rotating the dial as you tried to remember it. You had only ever called him once before, getting on his ass for being late to Hellfire last semester, but it wasn’t the younger Wheeler that you wanted to talk to.

His mom answered the phone. “Hi, Mrs. Karen,” you said, hoping to sound sweet and charming. “Is Nancy around? I have a question for her.”

“Why’re you calling me?” Nancy asked as the phone was passed to her, and you sighed.

“You’re the only girl I remotely know,” you started. “And I need a dress.”

“A dress?” Nancy repeated. “Why? Are you going to prom tonight? Don’t you have a prom dress?”

“Well, no,” you started, curling the phone cord anxiously around your finger. “I, umm, wasn’t really planning on going to prom. But now I am, and, like I said, you’re, like, the only girl I even sorta halfway know. We were in Kaminsky’s class together sophomore year, and Mike’s in Hellfire, and I just… I need a dress. Anything! It could be a church dress, sundress, it could be anything. I just need help.”

“Right,” Nancy said slowly. “Umm… Come over, I guess. I’ll see what I can do for you.”

You had never even been over to Wheeler’s house before, and going to see specifically Nancy Wheeler felt odd. You especially felt weird walking into her pink-topia bedroom, wearing your ripped jeans and dirty Converse and flannel shirt that used to be Eddie’s but you had stolen off of him. To top it all off, of course, her only dress options were pink and/or glittery. But you weren’t going to be a choosing beggar, and you decided on one that was the least egregious. A strapless burst of light pink tulle that fell down to your calves hugged your frame, and you examined yourself from every angle in Nancy’s little white wicker mirror.

“How is that?” Nancy asked, stepping behind you into the reflection.

“I feel like a princess,” you mumbled, turning again to look at your back.

“Is that good or bad?” Nancy asked, and you shrugged.

“It’s…” you started. The dress showed off your dirty shoes and scrunched socks, but you sorta liked the way it looked. You felt pretty. “I think it's good.”

“And if you let your hair down…” Nancy started softly, reaching out and shaking your hair out of the perpetual ponytail that it was in. Your hair was dented from the ponytail holder as it fell down, and you took a deep breath. “Maybe curled it… A little makeup… Is Eddie your date?”

“No,” you scoffed, but you looked away from the mirror all the same. “No, his band is performing, and I was gonna surprise him.”

Nancy suddenly got a smile on her face, like she knew something or understood you, and she said, “You’re trying to look nice for Eddie.”

“No, I’m not!” you said. “I… I don’t know. I just wanna… Look like I’m going to prom, I guess. It’ll shake him up, seeing me in a dress, it’s gonna be funny.”

“Honey,” Nancy said gently. “It’s okay to wanna look nice for the guy you like. I mean, any girl would want that.”

“I don’t like Eddie—” you tried to say, but Nancy shook her head, her permed curls bouncing around her face.

“Then why do you wanna look so nice?” Nancy asked. “You could’ve showed up in your jeans.”

You frowned, examining the dress once more, and you sighed. “Okay, fine,” you mumbled. “I just… I like Eddie, I really like him, and I just… Maybe I do wanna look nice for him, whatever. Don’t judge me.”

Nancy looked at your reflection for a few more quiet moments, and she finally said, “You can keep that dress. I never wear it.”

The band was already performing by the time you showed up. Given, you had shown up a little late, but you were sure that Eddie wouldn’t mind. You were sure that, even if you hadn’t showed up at all, he wouldn’t have minded.

That way, you would’ve missed seeing him in that dumb fucking suit.

Suit was not exactly what it was. It was a tuxedo, black, with a white shirt that had some frilly bullshit on the chest. You could tell that Eddie was despising the black bowtie around his neck and the cumberbund around his middle, and you also knew for a fact that he was hating every second of having his hair pulled back into a ponytail. You almost wanted to laugh at him. Your hand came up to cover your mouth to hide your laughter, as if he could see you from across the gym.

Eddie was standing very still as he played his guitar, some gentle-paced love song that couples all around the gym were slow dancing to. You had seen him play guitar before, and you knew that he usually played with all of the energy in his body, headbanging and jumping around. You had wiped blood off of his face before after he had rammed his head into the headstock of his guitar, even. He looked miserable, and you frowned. Poor Eddie.

You weaved through the dancing couples to make it up to the small stage, and Eddie’s dark eyes found you in an instant. You waved at him carefully, not wanting to draw his attention away from the song for too long, but that failed in an instant. He had already missed a cord and, as his hands floundered to get back on track, he struck a sour note.

You saw him mutter something that looked like “Fuck it”, and he pulled his guitar up and over his head before he said something in Jeff’s ear. Then, he jumped down from the stage and, smugly adjusting his bowtie, swaggered up to you.

“Alright, cut that shit out,” you laughed as he approached you. “I can tell you’re not having a good time.”

“Jesus Christ, am I that easy to figure out?” Eddie asked, dropping his hand from his tie. “I hate this fucking monkey suit.”

“You look like the kid from Back To The Future,” you giggled. “That tux is hideous, Eds.”

“Kinda felt like him too,” Eddie mumbled. “My hands stopped playing when I saw you. Holy shit, by the way! You look—”

“Hideous?” you repeated with a shrug. “I know.”

“Beautiful,” Eddie said breathlessly. His eyes were canvassing your whole body, from your curled hair to your pink-painted lips to your dress, and even down to your scuffed Converse and scrunched-up socks. “I didn’t know you had this in you.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, reaching out and punching Eddie’s shoulder. “If I look beautiful, then you’re downright handsome.”

“I’ll take it,” Eddie chuckled lightly, and the smile dropped off of his face. “You wanna… You wanna dance?”

“Seriously?” you asked. “Do you really wanna dance?”

“Kinda,” Eddie shrugged, and your heart jumped in your chest. “But not if you don’t want to.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Well… Yeah. Sure.”

You watched Eddie swallow thickly as he took a step towards you, and your skin rippled as he put his hands on your waist. “Have you ever slow danced before?” you asked, and Eddie shook his head.

“No,” he said. He seemed nervous, and you were taken aback. Eddie, your high-strung best friend, never afraid and always loud, was nervous. Was he nervous to dance with you? Or was he really that insecure about the way he was dressed?

“You do look really nice,” you mumbled. “Really… Seriously handsome.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said as you circled your arms around his neck. “Umm, are my hands okay here?”

“Yeah,” you told him. After a moment of consideration, you added, “They can go lower, on my hips, if you want.”

“No,” Eddie said. “I like holding you here.”

You nodded, trying not to think about his words too hard. Sure, you had hugged Eddie before, loads of times, and he always threw his gangly arms around you and squeezed hard, and he never seemed anxious about it. Your heart was racing inside your chest as you moved even closer to Eddie and rested your chin on his shoulder, letting your cheek brush his neck. Your body fit against his like the most perfect puzzle piece, and you sighed lightly.

It was now or never. “Eds?” you whispered. His grip tightened on your waist at the gentle nickname, and you started to add, “I—”

Eddie cut you off, though, in the best way he could have. He turned his head and swiftly pressed his lips to yours, lingering for just a moment before pulling away, all too soon for your liking. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I, umm… I’ve had the biggest crush on you for a long time. A-And you’re about to leave for college, and you look so fucking beautiful— not that you don’t look beautiful every day, I actually sorta prefer your jeans and everything— and I just, I can’t hold it back any more. I love you.”

“Eddie,” you sighed heavily, your voice trembling. “I mean… I don’t know what to say to you.”

“Tell me you love me,” Eddie whispered, and he pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Tell me I didn’t just fuck everything up.”

You looked at him, entranced by his wide, dark eyes, and you leaned back in, pressing your lips to his again. His hands fluttered on your waist for a moment before he dragged you right up against him, his palms pressing flat to your back, and his lips moved gently against yours as he kissed you. Eddie was kissing you; it was your dream come true.

As you broke the kiss, you could feel Eddie’s heartbeat flush against your chest, and you giggled softly, looking down at your swaying feet. “I love you, you dork,” you told him.

“You still down for Halloween later?” Eddie asked hopefully, his eyebrows raising. “Watching a scary movie with your boyfriend?”

“Yes,” you told him with a smile. “Yes, I am so down for that. As long as you let me hide during the scary parts.”

“I’ll kiss it better,” Eddie said. “How does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

#bex's requests #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #my writing

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