#sometimes i hate it when people draw attention to the way i interact with people sometimes?
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✿ 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩 ✿
characters: self aware!acheron x isekai!gn!reader, slight dan heng x reader to the end
warnings: fluff, poor attempt at humor, consumption of alcohol, lying (from dan heng), brief appearance of playable characters, description of acheron test run, reader is isekaid into the hsr world and is just trying to live their life, reader is referred to as aeon of life and your excellency
notes: just had a shower thought and remembered acheron interaction from the cosmodessy event and BOOM! part 2 of dragon fic is on the work i swEAR PLS DONT EAT ME the divider is from @/rookthornesartistry
“hmm…”
what a tricky situation. acheron had been wandering through the dreams of penacony to find out about the truth of the oak family. or at least, finding some hint and cases that has been silenced by the family. but on the way…
“i seem to be lost”
yes, the amnesiac galaxy ranger had found herself lost once more. she had briefly agreed with the astral express to meet them later at the clockie statue of golden hour, but the poor woman was now wondering which way is which and which direction she should be heading towards. oh well, she’ll figure it out later. right now, she needed to know where she was or attempt to find a familiar face.
looking around herself, acheron could hear the faint sound of jazz playing further down one of the halls. there also seem to be other people there as she could make out laughter and murmuring of people alongside the scent of alcohol wafting through the air.
a bar, perhaps?
quietly, she makes her way to the end of the hall, opening the double doors and coming to what she guessed was a bar. it did indeed seem like it, though just maybe a bit smaller than the usual grand and bright neon sign filled ones at the golden hour. briefly, the woman takes a moment to look around, hoping to find a familiar face. there was a bartender behind the bar, a halovian mixing a drink. perhaps she could ask her—?
a familiar colored hair catches acheron’s attention just as she was about to make her way over to the bartender. there, far away from the crowd of people at one of the seats sat the aeon of life. their back turned to others, seemingly running away from attention as they hunch over their table. acheron had never personally met the aeon of life before but she had felt their warmth, heard some snippets about them through the trailblazer and during an odd battle she was forced to fight in and have seen glimpses of their visage through the screen that the trailblazer allowed her to.
when acheron was first teleported to some theme park of penacony, she wondered if someone had kidnapped her. but when the ranger tried to move herself, she had found it impossible. until she did. someone or something was controlling her body, making her draw her blade and fight, yet she found it hard to hate the puppeteer. it felt… warm. to the lone galaxy ranger, this odd puppeteer of hers gave her a warm feeling, like being gently cradled by the sun. gentle and kind as the puppeteer moves her around, muffled gasps of awe and words of admiration falling onto her ears. this puppeteer of hers’ voice sounded gentle, soothing her heart, filling the loneliness of her soul. as quickly as it came, it disappeared and she was back in her room at the reality of the hotel.
when she briefly mentioned of this incident when she met welt of the astral express, he simply smiled with a knowing expression. the older man had told her about the aeon of life — or at least their reborn mortal self — and how they would sometimes guide some people to help them solve their problem or to bless them with more strength. most of the times though, these people were pathstriders, he told her.
and now here she was, in the flesh, being able to see the aeon of life themself.
quietly, the ranger makes her way towards the hunched over aeon. they seem to have had some glasses of drinks, the ice in them melting inside the glass as they lay their head on their arms, one hand wrapped around the glass of their next drink.
meanwhile, you try to fight back some sleep. drowsiness falling over you due to all sorts of drinks you’ve consumed. though, most were alcohol free, they still managed to knock you down a peg. must be the secret of being penacony dreamscape drinks or something. or maybe it was just siobhan’s specialty. she seemed very skilled in the art of free mixing.
the faint sound of heels clacking catches your attention though, making you stop and take a moment to listen carefully. not so soon after, the sound stops right behind you, along with a faint presence behind your back. you try to play asleep, hoping the person would just buy the act and leave you alone. ever since you were isekaid into the star rail world, people have been clamoring for your attention left and right. you came to penacony with the express in hopes of blending within the bright lights and dazzling signs of the dream world for people to ignore you and give you some time to breathe.
though, the presence continues to stay. lingering just behind you.
gulping, remembering an iconic meme back from your world, you slowly get up from your laying position and turn your head around to see who it was.
“YAAGHH—!” you yelp out loud, nearly shrieking as you jump from your seat when you saw acheron just silently staring at you, a bit closer than what you would prefer. the woman blinks, eyeing you carefully as she takes in your appearance. meanwhile, you hold a hand over your heart to calm the rapid beating of it.
breathing in and out, you eventually manage to calm yourself down. keeping an awkward eye contact with the ranger, you reach out to your unfinished glass of drink, taking a long sip from it. all the while, acheron continues to hold this somewhat awkward stare down.
“a-acheron, what are you doing here? you scared the shit out of me” you say, now finally calm after that last gulp of your drink. the woman’s exposed purple eye widens slightly, as if she was surprised by the fact you knew her. ah right, you two haven’t officially met each other in the flesh. so of course it will come off as weird to the galaxy ranger.
“i appear to be lost, your excellency” she replies, noting the unusual hue of your eye. it had a ring of gold in it, making you look otherworldly. but in this life where people can easily travel from one world to the other, that wasn’t exactly a compliment enough to say that you looked beautiful.
right, you remembered now that acheron had a tendency to forget things very easily and she would continue to be amnesiac until she draws her blade.
“well… where do you need to go then?”
the two of you have made your way out of siobhan’s bar, out of the dreamscape reverie hotel and towards the golden hour as she had said. but first you made little detours in your walk, stopping a few memory zone memes that has become unstable — during the whole time, acheron had told you to stay behind her so you would be safe — taking your time to admire the scenery of the dreamscapes before you two finally made it to the golden hour. it was buzzing, bustling with people from all over the galaxy and street vendors raising their voices to catch someone’s attention.
seeing a floating ice cream at the other end of the street, acheron steps onto the road without looking.
“ache, watch out!” you quickly reach out, holding her hand and yanking her back to yourself as a speeding car nearly runs her over. warm. you felt warm to the touch, gentle in the way you handled her as if she was made of glass. tender, almost, like a lover would hug another to their heart. she liked the way you hugged her, even though it was one born out of protective instinct.
“are you okay?” you ask, squeezing her bicep gently to take her attention. acheron turns her head to look at you, nodding her head that she was fine. everyone would be fine if they were in your protection after all. warm, safely tucked into your loving embrace.
“ache” she spoke suddenly, taking your attention back to herself. “you called me ache, your excellency. do you like the nickname?” the ranger asks, having never received any nicknames from others. this was her first time, having lost everyone she was close to and being forced to walk a lonely road until she caught the gaze of nothingness itself. even if she did indeed had gained nicknames from others before, she had long forgotten them. so this newfound form of kinship in you, in being given something intimate to be referred to by someone, brought a feeling of joy to the lonely ranger.
“i mean… do you like it?” you ask, looking at her face if she would give away any indication that she disliked it. to which you saw nothing. only the faint smile growing on her face. you liked that look on her face. the brooding, sad, melancholic look that she usually wears never fitted her. but when she did that, had a small smile on her face with a face of contentment, it seemed to suit her much better.
“mhm” acheron simply nods, an odd feeling of childish glee in her heart at the thought of having earned an intimate nickname. not from just anyone, but from you — the aeon of life, the very first living being that came to existence and decided to bless other lifeless things into meaningful ones. the aeon of life whose love and care held no bounds, reaching all over galaxies and world — even to ones that were distant and lone — embracing them in your love and care.
acheron liked the nickname “ache”. a heron liked to enjoy her time beside you. with you.
holding hands, eating floating ice creams and magical popcorns, the two of your take your sweet time during your detour to the clockie statue in golden hour. some people stopped you to ask for your autograph or a selfie together. it had become a common thing for you to experience ever since you got isekaid into this world.
the way you stopped to laugh at acheron’s face, where she had undoubtedly made a mess when eating her newly favorite peach flavored ice cream, the way you took out a napkin, wiping away the mess from her lips in such a tender manner caught the attention of a certain bloodhound. gallagher watched, jealous and other unknown bitter feelings swirling inside him as he watches your “date” with acheron from a bit away. he didn’t understand why he was so jealous. he was already in your grace, having come home to you many times while the ranger hadn’t came home to you even once.
but coming home, being in your grace and going on dates with you and holding hands were two completely different things. maybe he should invite you to come over at siobhan’s bar more.
finally, the pair of you made it to the clockie statue. when nearing to your destination, you felt the metal clawed hand of acheron tightening around yours. she seemed sad over the fact she had to let you go. it was nice to be beside you. holding hands, making jokes, feeling of belonging and comfort easily sweeping over her in waves that she never felt before. and yet she had to let go now. the express members were looking at you two weirdly.
“it’s alright, ache. we’ll go on more walks together later, okay? you have my phone number after all. you can text me if you want” your soothing voice graces her ears, filling the empty void of her heart. the woman remembers now. you gave her your number on the way here.
nodding, very reluctantly, acheron’s hands lets go of yours. immediately she wanted to reach out to hold your hand again, to feel the warmth of the sun from your skin again. but she holds herself back, afraid that she might scare you off with how forward she may come off as.
“see you later!”
“aaah… hopefully, today won’t be filled with creepy stalkers or annoying fans running after me…” you groan out, slumped over on one of the seats at the theme park. there wasn’t much people around, even if there were, the people here were too immersed in the exhilarating experience of the theme park. this place really was the world of dreams, huh…
“good afternoon, everyone. this is the ipc broadcast, coming back with news from all over the galaxy” one of the radios that was placed around the theme park speaks up, the familiar voices of the two npc’s coming through to catch some gossip loving folks’ attention.
“yesterday, at the world of dreams penacony, many people have reported to seeing their excellency, the aeon of life, going on a date with a certain mysterious purple haired woman” oh fuck no. no more gossip regarding the most basic things you do. please, no more scandals.
“some reports have stated that their excellency was sighted holding hands and going around one of the most famous dreamscapes of penacony — the golden hour — in a seemingly intimate date with the woman” it wasn’t a date! besides, people were too damn invested into your life.
groaning and silently spewing curses under your breath, you tune out the rest of the news broadcast, instead focusing on the taste of soulglad in your hand. at least there weren’t anyone around to bother you today. or anyone to spook you by just silently standing behind you. breathing down your neck, quietly standing there as if waiting for you to slowly turn around with “it’s behind me, isn’t it?”.
wait that’s too specific.
“your excellen—“
“whAT THE FUCK?!” safe to say, you jumped out of your seat when the familiar soothing voice of dan heng reached your ears. some people around turned to give you a weird or concerned stare.
“dan heng?! the hell are you doing here? aren’t you supposed to be back at the express?” you choke out, thankfully having not thrown your glass of soulglad in your fright. in return, the quiet dragon only tilts his head slightly, a sheepish look on his face. he lowkey reminded you of a puppy either that face…
“i cane here to check on the other express members. they weren’t replying to me in the group chat. and now—“
“— and now you’re lost” you finish for him, waiting, keeping an eye contact to see if he would deny or agree. to which he simply nodded his head as slight pink hue spread over his cheeks.
“alright where do you need to go?”
“the golden hour, clockie statue”
“alright, alright. jeez, what’s up with you guys always meeting up at the statue?”
“uhm… your excellency?”
“yeah?”
“can we… hold hands?”
tomorrow, another hit news was broadcasted by the ipc broadcast, speaking of how the aeon of life was spotted going on another date with a young, handsome man from the astral express.
#nobu.writes#self aware hsr#self aware honkai star rail#sahsrau#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr x reader#hsr x y/n#hsr x you#dan heng x y/n#dan heng x you#dan heng x reader#acheron x reader#acheron x you#gender neutral reader#gender neutral insert
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oral fixation (w.afton/fem!reader)
pairing: william afton | steve raglan/fem!reader
content tags: oral fixation, oral sex, body worship, pussy eating, tongue fucking, praise kink, william can not keep his mouth off you.
summary: William has an obsessive habit of chewing and biting things, especially when he's stressed. You interrupt his work at just the right time.
word count: 2,898
read on AO3
18+ content below cut. minors do not interact.
note: I am so glad I received this because I love oral fixation fics.
In public, Steve’s mannerisms, his facial expressions, were a well-rehearsed performance. Not a single person would be able to see the crime scene he cleaned up a week ago through the crease in his eyebrows, or the screams of a victim he still heard ringing in his ears in the way he sipped bitter coffee from a chipped mug; they simply were not there.
No, Steve Raglan was an ordinary guy. A little peculiar perhaps. Sometimes he tried a little too hard to be funny, and that affinity he seems to have for rabbit themed memorabilia could be classed as odd to some. Aside from that, Career Councillor Steve Raglan acted no differently to any other employee in the office.
In private, however, the comfort of his own home or even the privacy the closed door of his office provides, William Afton wore his thoughts externally like he wore the sleeves of his shirt. William would chew on the plastic end of a pen while pouring over a client’s file; agonising over how he was supposed to find suitable employment for a 37-year-old with only a high-school education, a criminal record and a 9-year unexplained gap in his employment history.
He would light up a cigarette or two, rolling the paper filter between his lips, biting it carefully with his teeth while sketching concept blueprints for a new animatronic design, trying to seamlessly integrate a dispenser for a knockout gas that wouldn’t be overtly noticeable.
William would bite his nails and chew his lips when you were out late and not responding to his calls or texts, crashing those worried lips to yours as soon as you’d come through the door.
“My phone died and I had to stay late, you don’t have to worry I’m safe.”
“All manner of dangerous people are out there,” he sighed your name, “can you use a coworker’s phone to call me if it happens next time? I hate to be sitting on the edge of my seat wondering if someone is hurting my girl.”
It was now that William was deep in thought, a half burned out cigarette resting in between his lips. He was tweaking some finer details on an endoskeleton hand, wanting it to have more precise movements, he had said before heading into his garage workshop. That was over five hours ago and the dinner you decided to make him was almost ready.
You watched him from the doorway. The ashtray showing he was on at least his third cigarette; he was stressed. Stepping over boxes and piles of scrap metal, you made your way over to him, resting a palm flat against his back.
“You’re tense,” you said quietly, smoothing your hand over the expanse of his rigid back.
William leaned into your touch but didn’t stop working. You took the chance to gently work out some of the knots in his muscles while he manipulated the metal on the bench, the cigarette still in between his lips. Watching as he moved it between his teeth from the left to the right side of his mouth, flicking it with his tongue and inhaling deeply.
You moved from behind him to lean on the edge of the desk, facing him now. Mentally crossing your fingers in the hopes he wouldn’t snap at you, you take the cigarette from his mouth, immediately drawing his attention. You raise your eyebrows teasingly, bringing the mauled butt to your own lips to take a drag.
“Dinners almost ready,” you exhale the smoke over your shoulder away from him.
A smirk on his lips, “What time is it?” he asks, placing his tools down and finally sitting up straight to stretch out his aching back muscles, twisting his neck side to side. He takes the endoskeleton hand from the desk and places it gently in a box, moving it to a shelf out of the way for now.
“11:41pm, according to the clock in here,” you inhale one more time, feeling the buzz in your head, before passing it back to William who takes the almost finished cigarette graciously. He seems way more interested in it now that it’s been between your lips.
He leans back in his chair, removing his glasses to rub his fatigued eyes then tossing them on the desk. He places the cigarette back between his lips to take a deep, satisfying drag, then stubs it out in the ashtray next to the rest. William exhales, smoke briefly clouding your vision as he reaches for your hips and pulls you down onto his lap, holding you tightly in his calloused hands. One holding your waist, the other gripping your thigh.
William nuzzles into the curve of your neck, nose and scratchy facial hair tickling your sensitive skin. He smiles when he can feel your heartbeat against his lips. He places a kiss, then two. Tracing the tip of his tongue from collarbone to ear, pressing a kiss in the space behind your ear and sweeping your hair back out of the way. You live for these moments. The way he dotes on you and worships every inch of you like a piece of fine art.
“I’m sorry I was distracted in here. Have I been neglecting my girl?” William nips the lobe of your ear with his teeth, before kissing a path down the juncture of your neck again.
“Could tell you were stressed,” your breathing heavy, “you need a break.”
“Hmm,” he responds against your skin.
He kisses firmer, harder, more intensely until he’s sucking a bruise into the delicate skin. The way you feel against him, the way you taste on his tongue. More, is all he can think, closer…
He swivels in his desk chair and guides you onto the hard wooden surface of his workbench, sweeping nuts and bolts, welded pieces of metal and wires out of the way. Some clattering to the ground, but he doesn’t care about that right now. William stands, his 6ft 4” frame towering over you as he leans down, gripping your waist with both hands, and connects his lips to yours.
You can’t help but moan obscenely into the kiss. The ferocity and desperation of his lips moulding against yours has you instinctively grinding your hips against his. Wiliam deepens the kiss, his hot tongue sliding over yours, exploring your mouth and bending you into submission. The kiss tastes like the tobacco you both shared, giving you the same pleasant buzz. He bites at your plush lower lip, pulling it with his teeth enough to make it to puff up and redden.
William leans back slightly to get a better look at you; your hair dishevelled, lips swollen and glistening, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.
“So beautiful,” he stoops back down, lips connecting to your jaw before nipping and sucking at the skin of your neck again enough to bruise, traveling down to the collar of your shirt.
William slides his skilled hands underneath the fabric, caressing the skin there up to where he can feel your bra. He pushes your shirt higher, up over your chest, off your shoulders and over your head, paying no mind to where it falls.
Immediately, his lips connect to the soft skin of your breast poking out of the top of your underwear. Biting and sucking hard, desperately needing to touch you, to mark you everywhere his lips will reach. His warm hands snake underneath your back to unclasp your bra. He pulls the elastic straps down your arms and discards the garment on the ground, bending further at the waist to bring a nipple into his mouth.
Your back arches into his touch, one hand gripping the back of his head by his hair, the other finding purchase on the workbench by your head to keep you steady. William sucks and bites down on your nipple, bringing it to a hard peak. He moves all around the soft flesh, nipping and leaving bruises. With no pens to chew on and the cigarettes discarded, your body was his distraction from his frustrations and worries right now. Not that this would be the first time.
William moves across your chest to give your other breast equal attention. He bites down on your nipple hard enough for you to gasp and tighten your grip on his hair. He glares up at you through hooded eyes, not angry, but amused.
Whilst caressing and kneading the flesh of your breasts, he moves lower down your body, nipping at your torso and abdomen, leaving a trail of little red marks as he goes. He teasingly kisses the skin just above the waistband of your trousers. Deciding to speed things up he hooks his fingers into the hem and pulls them swiftly down your legs, leaving you in only your panties on top of his work bench.
William smooths his thumbs over your hips where your underwear sits. Continuing his goal of kissing every inch of you, he presses his lips to your mound, moving lower and lower, until he’s kissing right over your clothed clit.
A rush of adrenaline courses through your body, arching once again into his touch. William, however, moves away from the area you need him most. He sits back down in his desk chair, giving him the perfect angle to place hot, open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, marring the area shades of bright red and deep purple with his lips and tongue.
Once he deems your thighs suitably marked, he pushes your legs further apart for him to gain access to the area you both need him the most. William runs two fingers down your clothed slit, a grin forming when he sees your arousal seep through the fabric. He teases you like this; tracing over your clit with his fingers, pushing into your entrance as far as the fabric of your underwear will allow. Watching you squirm on his desk, begging for a release.
William finds himself becoming impatient, biting on the skin of his lips, he needs you in his mouth again like an addict craving a fix. He finally lowers his face back down to your core, running his lips across your clothed mound before, with no warning, biting down in the area he knows your clit will be. You scream and arch dramatically off the desk, a hand coming to grip his hair. He smirks up at you, eyes swimming with lust and feeling pride surge in his chest. Nobody else could make you feel like this. Nobody but him.
William flattens his tongue over your clit through your panties as you come down from the electric jolt of pleasure. His saliva soaking through the fabric to your skin underneath, mixing with your arousal. The material of your underwear becomes smooth under William’s tongue, clinging to every dip and curve of your cunt as his hands grip your thighs tight.
“Oh fuck, Will…” you whined.
He hums against you, sliding closer to the desk on the chair and hooking his thumbs under the crotch of your panties. The cool air making goosebumps spread all over your body as it hits your wet core. William holds the fabric to one side, granting him access to tease your pussy while you writhe and moan beneath him. Noticing your reaction to the cold air of the garage, he blows against your cunt, grinning when he hears pathetic whimpers slip past your lips, and he watches you clench around nothing.
He moves closer and takes the swollen flesh of your labia between his teeth, biting ever so slightly. Just enough to make you squirm and moan his name. William sucks the flesh into his mouth hard enough to leave yet another bruise to match the many others that are scattered all over your body. The rough sensation of his facial hair causing the heat to stir low in your abdomen.
Once a suitable mark has been formed, William shifts his attention slightly higher. Flicking his long tongue over your clit, finally making contact skin-to-skin. One of your thighs rested on his shoulder with his arm wrapped underneath, holding you securely at the hip, with his other arm laying on top of your hips, holding your panties to the side to give him direct and uninterrupted access.
“Oh my god!” your own hands come down to grasp at his, feeling that heat intensifying inside you.
William doesn’t stop for a second. He sucks expertly on your clit until you’re writhing against his face. He moves lower and plunges his long tongue deep inside your tight hole. Your grip on his hands tightens as you arch into his mouth. Your upper arms pressing your breasts together, feeling the tenderness on the skin from the assault he laid into them moments ago.
William loves the way you taste, and he resolves to lap up every last drop of your arousal like it was his final meal on death row. He licks a stripe the entire way up your cunt from entrance to clit, before wiggling his tongue back inside, rhythmically stroking your walls. His breath is hot between your legs.
A sweat breaks out over your skin, you pant desperately as William builds your climax, stroke by tantalizing stroke of his tongue. He grips your thighs hard in his hands, bruising handprints holding them in place on his shoulders as you try to grind down against his face.
He eats you out like a man starved; routinely thrusting his tongue deep inside, moving it to circle your clit, pressing flat and teasing with the tip, biting and sucking intensely on your clit and labia before moving back to fuck you with his tongue — all while his facial hair scratches you so delightfully, only adding to the stimulation.
The heat is intensifying. You can feel your muscles begin to tense, twitching uncontrollably against William’s face as your climax takes over your body.
“A-ah, fuck! Oh fuck, Will!” you cried out, chest heaving as you pant and gasp for air.
William strokes your thighs encouragingly, breaking away from your core for a moment.
“Let go for me, baby. Come for me, that’s it,” he dives back in, coaxing you higher and higher, his nose bumping your clit. He loves hearing you cry and squirm at the mercy of his control.
Everything tightens and tightens, reaching an apex until there’s nowhere left to climb, and then you finally snap. Screaming William’s name as your muscles spasm, jolting your entire body. Your thighs tremble at either side of his head. William grips you tight, rhythmically pulsing his tongue inside and helping you ride out your orgasm. Shocks radiate throughout your body, your abdomen twitching and tensing with every clench of your walls.
William finally pulls back, laying gentle kisses to your inner thighs and caressing over your hip bones with his thumbs affectionately.
“Good girl,” he soothes, “good girl, you did so well for me. So good.”
You lay there completely bare on his desk, eyes closed, breathing deep and feeling light headed as you come down from the intense high he gave you. A smile creeping onto your face and a warmth spreading in your chest at his words of praise.
William takes your thighs from his shoulders, stands, and rests your legs on his desk chair. He presses a brief kiss to your abdomen, then higher in the valley between your breasts, your neck, jaw, then finally pecking your lips before deepening the kiss and allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You just begin to run your hands through his hair when he leans back.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” he said.
You narrowed your eyebrows, confused as he stepped away.
“Give me one minute, I’m coming straight back.”
You hear him cross the room in wide strides, then the sound of his footsteps as he ascends the stairs in the house. Only moments later, his footsteps drum down the stairs and enter back into the garage.
William drapes something soft over your body; the blanket from your bed. He helps you sit up and pulls the blanket snug around you, then holds you steady as your legs tremble beneath you when you try to stand.
“Woah, easy. Sit here for a sec,” he guides you to his chair, easing you down into the worn seat.
“Thanks,” you sigh, “that was… intense.”
He leans against the desk facing you, the side of your legs pressed against his, “too much?”
“No! No, definitely not. It was good,” you feel warmth creep up your cheeks.
“Good,” William smiles. He swivels the chair and pulls you against him from where you’re sat, your head leaning against his stomach.
“Did it help?” you ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “you’re not biting your lip or lighting up another cigarette.”
He chuckles, “oh, it helped. Definitely way less stressed.”
“Good.”
William cups your face in his palm and leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips.
“C’mon, we should go inside. It’s getting cold tonight,” he says, “and didn’t you say something about dinner?”
William gathers your discarded clothes from the floor and offers you an arm to hold, leading you out of the garage and back into the warmth of the house where luckily, there was no smoke billowing out of the kitchen.
#fnaf#fnaf movie#fnaf smut#william afton#william afton x reader#william afton smut#five nights at freddy's#steve raglan#my works
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desiderium
an eddie munson series
AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.
summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.
pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader
word count: 4,752 words
content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, angst, swearing, loneliness, mentions of drugs and crime, mentions of imprisonment, family issues, feeling unwanted, slight bullying, anxiety, nightmares, insomnia, depression, loss and grief, mentions of spit, super brief mention of alcohol and vomit, very brief mentions of breakups and inappropriate sexual relations (nothing reader or eddie are apart of). i think that’s it!
a/n: this is my first attempt at a slow burn series so i hope it’s good! i’m also trying a new setup with photos instead of gifs ^ i’ve seen a lot of other people do it and i think it looks really cool so! also creds to who owns and posted these photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5
*
Eddie Munson had grown bitter since you last saw him. To be fair, the last time you saw him was when you were kids but still. You always knew him to be boisterous. Adventurer Eddie. Eddie with the weird ideas and cool drawings. Eddie who made you laugh until your stomach cramped and you would cry out that he was going to make you wet yourself.
You didn’t know it as a kid but even then he couldn’t catch a break from the world around him, and apparently it never stopped spiraling even when it beat him into a hollow shell covered in grease during the weekdays and alcohol—and occasionally vomit—on the weekends. He was worn down by his own worries that never seemed to cease and miserable stories of others admitting things they should’ve never said aloud. Sometimes the stories were fun or at least amusing, but mostly just depressing. This was Hawkins after all.
This wasn’t an Eddie you knew. Had someone told you that man in the garage wasn’t him, you simply would’ve nodded and kept going on your journey to find him.
But it was him, and you were positive he was meant to be back in your life. No matter how much it was hurting right now.
*
You didn’t know why he left at first. It was as if he ceased to exist, and sometimes—when you were all alone at night—you wondered if he had been a ghost. If he had been an imaginary friend, but surely not? He had his own home you hung out in. His own dad who let you guys eat too much junk food and stay up too late. He looked and sounded real when he would scarf down several bowls of honeycomb cereal with those slurping noises you always hated and would whine at him over. He felt real when you would play wrestle—and unfortunately very real when he won and would pin you down while slowly letting a string of saliva stretch down towards your face in an empty threat. He never really did it, but it was gross all the same, and when he’d let up you’d punch his arm as hard as you could.
One day, you asked if your parents remembered him and your father scoffed at the question while he stared at the newspaper, but at least he acknowledged you at all. Meanwhile your mother had all her focus on putting her earrings in and checking her makeup in the small mirror on a wall surrounded by family photos. Those framed pictures felt emptier than the looming threat of Eddie’s spit touching your face.
“Well his father’s a bottom feeder stuck in prison,” your dad flicked his paper to straighten it out again from where it had begun to bow backwards. “And his kid is probably no better. You’ll make other friends.”
You never understood why he was so cold about the loss of your only friend. You’ll make other friends. Yeah right. No one liked you. Everyone made fun of the way you sat idly on swings just to kick on occasion as you focused more on the book in your hands, or the way you’d squat down and give all your attention to a bug in front of you. Either a line of ants that you regarded with pure intrigue because you wondered how they always filed so neatly and did their best to stay together. Sometimes you left crumbs by them just to see if you could watch them pick them up. You’d watch snails and show them the attentiveness and respect you felt they deserved as they slowly trudged along—so determined, you thought. You’d watch butterflies and try to keep track of all the different kinds you saw. A lot of them were small and fluttery with those buttery white wings, but sometimes you saw a monarch and your eyes would grow large with excitement.
You cried when Zachary McKay would stomp on the anthills or teased you about how the French ate snails—something his dad would say was just more proof of how odd Europeans are. They were one of those arrogant “We love our Country!” households with an “I can do whatever I want—America is the land of the free” ideology and it showed in their unbridled and privileged ass of a child. You didn’t inform him that one Spring of the wasp nest that formed on the underside of the slide he frequented. Maybe it was mean, but you were content in silence over on your swing when you heard him crying out in pain one day. He developed a crush on you in high school that dramatically contrasted how he treated you in grade school—and even tried to make a move at Maddi Ecker’s 17th birthday party—but you could only think of the ants and the snails. You turned him down and he was horrible to you again.
You eventually did make some friends, other odds and ends throughout your school, but it wasn’t the same as it was with Eddie. Maybe it was childish and stubborn, but you could feel it deep in your gut that he was one of a kind. So you couldn’t let him go. All those years you ached for your friend who you considered lost. He always came up with wild stories and (when you were still relatively young) you imagined he had become a pirate and was lost at sea. Or became a gunslinger in the Wild West and didn’t draw fast enough. Maybe he went to slay dragons and wound up a burnt crisp of a human. That last one made you cringe the most, but he probably would’ve liked it the most. He loved mythical creatures the way you adored real creatures. By high school you weren’t as naive. You heard about his dad—caught with multiple charges of grand theft auto, a hit-and-run in one of said stolen cars, and dealing drugs. The hard shit. Not weed or shrooms. But the kind of stuff that really ruins lives.
You always thought Eddie had a good home. His dad didn’t hate him the way you were sure your parents hated you, and he had a nice house. It wasn’t a mansion or anything, but they really didn’t need anything beyond a one story and a sizable basement with only two of them. In hindsight, you supposed he couldn’t find a home in that childhood house anymore than you could with yours. Yours lacked love. His lacked a reliable source of income.
Over time you heard about the night with all the sirens and social workers. The night he turned into a spirit that had finally moved on—an imaginary friend that your growing mind ceased to conjure. He lived with his uncle over in Indiana, rather than your small town in Ohio. Even in your mid twenties, he flashed in your mind like a small blip on occasion and it still twisted your stomach.
You thought of asking if you should go to him whenever you remembered, but you thought you needed a sign. What if you showed up too early? And you messed up any possible grand plans? So you avoided indulging in questions about him to your tarot cards or over your pendulum map. On occasion you caved and just asked a simple question: is he safe? It was a yes every time you broke and just had to check up on him, and the answer reassured you for long enough until the next time the concern rose up to unbearable levels.
But then you started getting those dreams. Sometimes they were just memories playing from deep within the archives of your mind. Sometimes they were nightmares of yelling at someone to go away, only to realize it was Eddie far too late—and when you wanted to run after him to correct the mistake, you couldn’t move as quickly as you knew you were capable of.
It went on for about a month before you finally broke. Your eyes had snapped open, accidentally waking yourself in the middle of saying what you had been shouting to Dream Eddie out loud into your pitch black room. You glanced at the time. 11:11 PM. You felt your heart skip a beat before you shoved yourself out of bed. You had to take a moment to steady yourself against your bedpost from the sudden movement making you dizzy, but then you were flicking on the light and digging through your belongings. You didn’t even give yourself a chance to wipe away at the thin sheen of sweat over your skin from August heat mixed with a cheap fan that really didn’t make that much of a difference, and the stress from the events that had played deep in your mind while you slept.
With a shaky breath, you smoothed out your map on the floor where you were squatting, and steadily held your pendulum over the center. Does he need me? You finally asked and watched as the chain connected to a sphere of rose quartz slowly began to circle. It sped up and then began to dart in different directions before finally swinging back and forth between both of the “YES''s on the piece of cloth.
*
It took a little over a month to arrange your departure from your life in small town Ohio—not that small town Indiana was really all that different. You had briefly been back at your childhood house after your lease came to an end for the apartment you shared with a friend (who didn’t want to renew because she wanted to move in with her boyfriend, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that the card spread you had laid out all pointed towards a breakup). All of this to say you didn’t have a lease or mortgage to tie you down. You certainly didn’t have a boyfriend (you haven’t had one since college), and you didn’t even like your job at the local mart so it was easy to give your two weeks. Your parents were just as sick of your presence now as when you were a child, and were willing to help you in every way possible to get you to just leave again. Had you not been so focused on your end goal, you might’ve taken a beat to really feel the hurt that always came with parents who only came to your aid when it meant keeping you at arm's length. But you couldn’t focus on it and really (for the sake of your mental health) you shouldn’t focus on it. All of your energy went towards Eddie who seemed so far, even if he was supposedly just a few hours and a state line away.
You didn’t have a place yet, which was a mistake on your part for rushing, but you could stay in a motel for the time being. The prices were pretty low anyways and the owner seemed pleasantly surprised by the sudden source of money and company. The lot belonged to her husband who had passed a few years back, so now it was only her running the place. Her daughter helped sometimes, but she had another job to focus on—only coming to help when the older woman was ill. So even though she appeared kind of grumpy at first, she really softened up to you when you wound up padding out of your room the first night and asked if she wanted to play Go Fish. You had been feeling antsy and lonely, and you were right to assume she felt lonely too.
Over the past week or so, you found a friend in that creaking, groaning motel. You did have a bit of a tendency to befriend the adults around you more often than kids your age when you were younger and it still happened now, apparently. A shrink at university pointed out once that it had to do with the lack of guardianship and guidance growing up. That you were trying to replace something that had always been missing, but you didn’t go back to him after a couple sessions. You didn’t like how patronizing he was, telling you things you already knew. And when you asked your dowsing rods if he was sleeping with any of his clients, the two pieces in your fists whipped open in a blatant “Yes!” But he wasn’t around now to make you feel low with his supercilious commentary and his notes that he always scratched down right in front of you. Your parents weren’t around to remind you of how utterly unlovable you can be. It was just you, Martha at Hawkins’ Blue Bird Inn, and hopefully a pleasant reunion on the horizon.
Today was the day to finally see Eddie, and Martha urged some confidence into you this morning before sending you on your way with the directions to the garage. No matter how many times you clarified he was just your childhood best friend, she got that sly look about her that always showed when an adult was all amused about the novice in front of them being openly or involuntarily blind to love.
So there you were. On a mild Wednesday morning in late September, standing before Thacher Tire after a lot of asking around, a lot of time flipping through Martha’s phone book, and even more odd looks. You let out a careful breath, doing your best to reassure yourself with the knowledge that the people you spoke to knew his name in the first place. He had to be here, and even if he wasn’t working today he should at least be employed here. Maybe you could be told when to come back to speak with him or where you could find him outside of work. Would they share something like that? People don’t tend to care about privacy in small towns, that’s why everyone knew (generally) where everyone else was. Maybe if you clarified that you’re an old friend, they wouldn’t treat you as a customer and tell you where he would be.
You were wringing your hands as you eyed the door in front of you. The glass looking in was worn from age and weather, clearly cleaned so people could see through it, but there seemed to be an aging to the corners where the rectangle of glass met the surrounding wood that couldn’t be scrubbed out. It felt like a portal looking into what could be, and you suddenly felt yourself getting anxious with what exactly meant could be. You had a knack for catastrophizing, and spiraled in all of the worst case scenarios until you were running back to your car and abandoning the lot.
*
“Trust me, it’s not as scary as it seems. Going for those intimidating opportunities is always better in the long run than letting ‘em slip away,'' Martha murmured to you before biting into the sandwich you brought her.
You bought typical fast food that you always came running back to when you were stressed, but she didn’t like the grease. You learned that over the past week when you brought up your bad habit, and her nose scrunched up at the mention of crappy burgers and overly salted fries. Instead you got her a tuna sandwich from the nearby marketplace, and she shared her big jug of iced, sweet tea with you.
“I haven’t seen him for over ten years…,” you sigh, toying with the crackling paper that was wrapped around your cheeseburger. “What if I’m the only one who clung onto our friendship? What if it’s stupid to him?”
“Mm, us women always do hold on longer,” she hummed thoughtfully and you refrained from your urge to correct her old-fashioned view of gender dynamics for the sake of staying on topic. “I still think you should go for it.”
“What if… what if it’s not what I think it’ll be? What if I’ve turned him into someone more fictional than Eddie in my mind, and when I’m faced with how he really is now I just… I dunno…wish I didn’t come here?”
“They never are what you conjure up. They’re always better up here,” she pointed a bony finger to her temple and you focused on one of the curls in her short gray hair for a second before bringing your gaze back to hers. “I still think you should go for it.”
You huff out a laugh at her repetition, smiling sadly to yourself as you look down at your hands and notice the thin sheen of grease on them. Maybe Martha’s right. Maybe this food is gross. You grab a few napkins from the brown paper bag and wipe at your fingers.
“Just think of it this way: is it worse knowing the truth or worse never knowing?”
*
Eddie had been having a shit day. Actually he had been having a shit week. If he let himself truly indulge in his pessimism, he’d be acknowledging that he’s altogether just had a shit life, but he was trying not to fall into that trap. It would make him the kind of depressed and bitter that made him snap at others and then feel guilty about it—which only made him feel worse about himself.
He hasn’t been sleeping well, a sudden flare up of his insomnia throwing off his circadian rhythm. He thought with how busy his schedule was that he’d knock out the second his head hit the pillow, but he only seemed to be exhausted until he finally laid down. Then was when his thoughts randomly chose to run and his heart would race with the sudden surge of anxiety-inducing thoughts. He was beginning to feel so overwhelmed by everything that his eyes burned with the beginnings of hot tears but he wiped at them carelessly with the heels of his hands before they could become too real. In his mind, they didn’t exist until they fell.
Eddie ached with exhaustion that only seemed to let up when he could actually get a shot at some rest. He ached with loss and grief. He ached with pure misery and painful seclusion and a silent trailer—besides the occasional buzz of electricity through his lamp that he turned back on when he realized he wouldn’t be sleeping anyway, or the groan of the old mobile home settling against its cinder blocks. The upcoming season made itself known through the ever growing chill that formed at night and occasionally blew through every crack and crease of the trailer, making him shiver and pull his blankets up before inevitably growing hot again and kicking them away.
He missed his friends that he rarely saw. Everyone is busy nowadays. He missed Wayne who… god, he couldn’t even think about it. He missed Chrissy who lit up his world Spring of ‘86 just for them to drift apart. People seemed to drift from him a lot. People seemed comfortable with forgetting him and giving a brief call only when they got a pang of guilt at any reminder that they were getting awfully close to leaving him behind. But who was he to drag them down? It was heart-aching enough to live the way he did sometimes, let alone when people acknowledged just how heart-aching it was. Sometimes he even missed his dad, but he always avoided thinking too hard about him before it could sink his mood to a new level that would be hard to crawl out of.
He hadn’t been able to fall asleep Wednesday night until early into Thursday morning. He settled into a deep rest around 4 AM just to be abruptly woken up by his 6:30 alarm to make sure he was at Thacher’s by 7:00.
“Fuck off…,” Eddie groaned out loud and slammed his fist down onto the alarm clock, never lifting his face from where it was planted right against his worn pillow.
He laid there for what felt like forever, but was really only a few minutes before he finally peeled himself out of his spot. Forcing himself from the comfort of his old mattress was never easy, especially when he couldn’t rely on any excuses he made up as a teenager to just flop right back into his bed. He had to get up. He had to work.
He went to make his usual toast just to see there was only the end piece left in his loaf of bread, and let out a guttural groan of frustration as he tilted his head back. He forgot to stop at the store. Grumbling a bitter so that’s how today’s gonna go under his breath, he shoved the sad excuse for a slice of bread into the toaster and then began looking through the kitchen for something else to satiate him until lunch.
He wound up eating what was left in his jar of peanut butter with a spoon after slathering the small piece of toast with jelly. He didn’t have time to clean a travel mug (which he forgot to clean last night) so he took a regular one with him on his commute, and wound up dumping his coffee all over himself mid-sip when he had to stop short for a kid suddenly biking across the road. The young teen laughed at the close call and made his way to the other side of the street. Eddie glanced down at his drenched t-shirt and coveralls, releasing his third irritated groan of the morning while he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling of his van before focusing back on the road and moving his foot to the gas. He focused on taking deep breaths as he gripped the steering wheel and made his way to the shop.
Thankfully, Linda had already started a pot of coffee in the break room which he happily drank and patted at his wet clothing with one of the blue shop towels. Staining was inevitable and it really didn’t matter with the coveralls anyways, but that didn’t mean he had to be damp. Taking that moment at the start of his shift helped with his mood, but the amount of customers bitching over the phone about how long it was taking to get their cars back were steadily draining him back into a surly mood. The most he had to look forward to and keep himself from unnecessarily snapping at someone was the fact that it was almost the weekend—and yes he would still have to work nights at The Hideout, but at least he didn’t have to get up early.
*
Never knowing was decidedly worse.
You had concluded this after ruminating on it all night—with and then without Martha’s help. And despite all of your anxieties that were just barely buried under the surface, you made yourself go to the garage again.
An obnoxious, tinny bell sounded and a dull voice said from behind a counter: Welcome to Thacher Tire. What can we do for you?
You approached carefully as if you moved too quickly, the depressing gray and beige setting around you—which held far more meaning for you than just fixing cars—would suddenly melt away and you’d wake up.
“Do you know where I could find Eddie Munson?” you asked in a soft voice, and the woman obnoxiously chomping at her gum looked up at you over the top of her glasses before looking back down at the paperwork in front of her.
“He’s in the garage. Is he working on your car?”
Your heart jumped and although you hated to lie, you did.
“Yes,” you said probably too quickly, but it seemed nothing could get this woman to care.
“Wait over there, please,” she spoke in a voice that was just as greige as her place of work.
You thanked her meekly and shuffled over to one of the worn, faux leather and hard plastic seats. The room smelled of cheap pine air fresheners and the potent combination of oil, and that specific rubber scent of brand new tires. The space with the front desk and the waiting area was small enough to be cramped if it was a busy day, but since you were the only visitor at the moment you didn’t have to be confronted by the full potential of such limited space. You toyed with your hands and tried to pay attention to the fuzzy television in one corner of the room, but you couldn’t help listening in on the receptionist’s call.
“…’s a girl here to talk to ya… uh-huh… yeah I know… uh, no I don’t think so. I doubt it. Her voice is different from the one that keeps calling about the Ford. Might be though... ‘Kay.”
You anxiously wiped your sweaty palms over your jeans as you heard the clunk of hard plastic settling back into its cradle. What if he didn’t remember you? What if he did, but didn’t care? What if he thought you were weird for showing up? What if he grew up to be someone who stomps on anthills?
Your head shot up at the sound of a door opening and then closing from the back, and a man in filthy coveralls approached the woman behind the desk. He had messy, curly bangs settled on his forehead and the rest of his long hair was in a low ponytail. He was sweaty and clearly exhausted as he wiped at his forehead and left a swipe of grease in his wake, speaking quietly to the receptionist before making his way over to you. The closer he got, the better you could smell the grease and sweat and bitter coffee, but it didn’t deter you. What truly threw you were the circles under his eyes and the sort of pale cast to his skin that people got when they were fatigued or ill. You weren’t sure why a part of you expected to see an eleven year old kid approach you with a god awful buzz cut and big brown eyes, even after fourteen years.
This was it. This was your moment. The time to reclaim your best friend, and have the greatest person you had ever met back into your life. Why was your throat suddenly so dry? You swallowed anxiously and then parted your lips to speak and-
“Miss, I know you’re waiting on your car to be fixed before the weekend—I promise I’m working as quickly as I can.”
You tried not to cringe at the use of “miss” and looked up at him with wide, sad eyes wondering why he didn’t see an almost ten year old girl with a messy braid in her hair that she did by herself, complaining at him to chew with his mouth closed.
“I lied,” You said bluntly and the man stared at you in a way that felt blank and still despite his wonderment.
“I-I don’t have a car here. I just wanted to talk to you.”
He eyed you curiously, his hands slowly wiping onto an old rag. It looked like it had been used so many times, you doubted it was even picking up any filth on his hands but just moving it around instead. He was clearly thrown off by the sentiment which brought a sort of youthfulness to his face in that moment of curiosity before his features hardened.
“Listen. I’m sure whatever prank you have conjured up is hilarious, but I’m tired and trying to do my job.”
“No-- no, no,” you tried to clarify, shooting up from your seat. “I—I-”
But he was already swiftly stomping away from you towards the back, muttering to the receptionist with a quick and surely rude comment about you on his way. You were moments from being politely asked to leave, you’re sure, but the woman hesitated with a gentle expression when she saw you approach her with glossy eyes.
“Could you please just give him this?” you asked in a soft voice that you did your best to keep even, but of course it wobbled just enough to be humiliating. You could feel the heat in your face and (even worse) the moisture in your eyes so you did your best to avoid eye contact.
You outstretched your arm and she met you halfway with a nod, allowing you to drop the old friendship bracelet into her palm.
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#stranger things x reader#mechanic!eddie#bartender!eddie#bartender!eddie munson#angst#slow burn#slow burn eddie munson#eddie munson x fem!reader#bsf!eddie munson#eddie munson angst#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson series
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Haaard agree on anti-Chaggie post (so sorry Chaggie shippers. We love you)
Alastor is known to steal the attention of people whenever he is on screen. But when he is with Charlie it makes it more interesting! They bounce off of each other in an entertaining way. Even if you don't ship them they are funny. Alastor is getting a kick out of just talking to Charlie. He finds her amusing (probably in a mean way lol). And Charlie while thinks he is an asshole, (cus he is!) she sees he tries to help her even with an obvious hidden ulterior motive.
They don't see eye to eye in their goals but at least they are both real characters with their own motivations and that makes them very dynamic with each other. Also they are both goofs, love 'em
Chaggie has fans within people that just want cute and non-dramatic relationships. Or just a queer couple that is wholesome without any dramatics. Valid!
It's just awkward that Vaggie is all about Charlie. This one thing puts me off. Considering my previous experience with it was in Steven Universe (Rose and Pearl, anyone?). But it's just personal thing. Sometimes things like that are funny like "they are obsessed with this person lololo" or "they are... Uncomfortably obsessed with this person"
[I think it depends on if the other person is on the same level? Charlie seemed somehow dismissive of Vaggie but it can be explained that the plot was just more focused on hotel than them (ugh 8eps. waiting for S2 to have fillers).]
Shipping is all about preferences and that's okay! My friend is a Chaggie shipper and I am a Charlastor shipper. I asked her to explain to me the appeal and she explained it as "a cute couple that has no conflict whatsoever. People like that exist and it's more common than very dramatic or action-driven couples". And I just like a bit fucked up dynamics where I watch someone in that dynamic go through some emotional turmoil (mostly Alastor<3) and also co-workers/housemates dynamic (when I need something cute and simple)
Some people just prefer down to earth things, especially if their life is a rollercoaster. What's important is to respect each other!
Sorry for a lil essay. I just think sometimes it's important to say "these are prefrences. We don't hate you for not liking your thing and the same goes in vice versa"
All fandoms have a group of people that is.... A bit too devoted to something. Respect others even if they don't like the same thing you do. Instead ask them to explain to you why they like it in a non-hostile manner or don't interact at all.
We're all tired of shipping wars, especially when some companies add oil to this fire to monetize more. I just want to get back to old fandom days when you both would be shopping different things and then end up in a make out session /j
Sorry for an essay again. Love your art, especially when you draw unhinged or going insane Alastor because Charlie makes him "feel". Thanks for all the content<3
This!!! So much this!!!
I hardly even need to add anything to this tbh, you already said everything that needs to be said perfectly!
I often like to think of shipping as the more adult version of playing with dolls, and that different people will play with their dolls differently! Some may prefer to follow the instructions on the packaging, playing with the toys exactly as intended, whereas others might find that boring and instead prefer to mix things up and do their own thing!
How I play with my set of dolls should have absolutely no impact on how you play with your own.
Thank you so much for writing out this ask, I'm honestly really glad to see that common sense and critical thinking skills within fandoms haven't completely died out yet lmfao
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42!Miles Headcannons
I am on a kick of Spiderverse, so Tumblr gets it-
Miles has separation anxiety with you, which got a lot worse when you started dating, him being the prowler and all
He cannot handle the sound of guns, it makes his anxiety race.
He'd never admit it but he genuinely likes your company, like he'll deny it then go out of his way to find stupid reasons to hang out with you. Which his mom plays into.
Miles: Aye, Idiota. Come over. My mom misses you.
Y/N: Ooookay?
Rio, hugging Y/N: Y/N I've missed you, how've you been? Are you feeling okay? Have you been eating enough?
Y/N, laughing: I'm okay Mrs. Morales, thank you for worrying about me though
Miles: *Absolutely smitten by how you interact with his mom*
Leaves you gits randomly, like if he's out on a job with his uncle and he sees something he knows you'll like he'll swipe it (and leave money) and either leave it on your desk or put it on your window sill. You've yet to catch him
He HAS stopped and watched you sleep when he left you a gift, not in creepy way more like a "God... They're so perfect..." His eyes, hidden behind his lil mask, softened on you. He only left because the hallway light flicked on and he panicked. That was the loudest he had ever fled from somewhere, he didn't even close your window.
He is really artistic too, he has dozens of sketches of you in his sketchbook. You're his favorite thing to draw
Don't get me wrong, I'm a sucker for Miles wanting to kill someone for you. But he would only think it, he'd never actually act on those thoughts. He couldn't bear the weight of taking a life, even if it was for you. He's a vigilante, remember
As terrifying as he seems, Miles is a HUGE baby when it comes to getting hurt. He'll act like he's fine, but when he's with his Uncle or Mom he cries. Like ugly cries, he's a huge baby-
Has Trypanophobia (The Fear of Needles), hates the sight of them and cannot handle it when he has to get shots
When he cannot handle anything anymore he goes to his dad's Mural and just sits there, he doesn't talk or make any noise. He just sits against the brick, sometimes he cries, sometimes he doesn't but he's always there late at night so no one really sees him
He doesn't talk to anyone he actually has a crush on, like he's flirty as hell with everyone but the person he actually likes he's really blunt and distant. Like a dumbass
I can 100% see Miles being Omni, like he could like anyone as long as he's close to them
We all know Miles' sleep schedule is FUCKED, he's a Vigilante, he doesn't get to sleep much due to everything being at night. But he still gets good grades and sleeps when he can
This is literally one of his posts on Twitter and you CANNOT tell me otherwise-
He isn't really bothered by people who're taller than him, or people who are a few inches shorter. But if you're below his chin he's wary, he's heard enough from Ganke not to mess with people that short. "They have to climb to get things, I don't wanna mess with someone who climbs counters.
I can see him being taller than 1610!Miles, cause 1610!Miles is 5'8" so I can see 42!Miles being anywhere from 5'9 to 5'10". Like it's not a noticeable difference if you're not paying attention, ya know?
Miles does Photography, but it's more of a hobby. He doesn't plan on turning it into a career, but he does it when he's got the chance, his posts look like this
Bubbly_Rose and Vanilla.Coffee.Addict. Are both his mom, different accounts to support her son. Best mom 100%
Miles has dozens of playlists on spotify, most of which are for his friends and family.
Cat person but has a german shepard named Luna
Had dreads ONCE and decided he hated them, so he stuck to his braids
Miles can cook, really really well. His mom and him used to bond through cooking and now it's something he does when he's stressed or upset
Depending on how tired Miles is, is how he sleeps. If he's just a lil sleepy, his legs are kinda bent and his arms are by his head, HOWEVER, if it was after REALLY tiring job with his uncle he kinda just falls onto his bed and sleeps like that
He usually doesn't go to anyone for comfort and comforts himself unless it's really bad then he goes to his mom or (if he really REALLY trusts them) his significant other
Miles has a tendency to flinch/move away from any form of touch that's not from his mother. He gets pins and needles if he's not expecting a touch and it is almost painful, I wouldn't say he's touch-starved but with his mom working so much it's easy to see that he would be
The one thing that brings Miles' to tears is watching his mom work herself to the bone and never being able to take a break. It makes him so mad that he can't help her, without it being obvious, that it reduces him to tears
He cries when he's mad
He hates it when people go through his things or move them. He has everything in a place, everything has to be perfect. Major OCD when it comes to his room, it's his space and he wants it perfectly clean
Miles takes really good care of himself, he keeps himself in shape (outside of being the Prowler) and makes sure to eat and hydrate right
Miles. Is. A. Huge. Softie for little kids. He acts like he can't stand them but the minute he's flashed a toothy smile from a little kid, he can't help but smile back
He considers a few people who aren't family, his family like Ganke
His idea of "A Perfect Vacation" is going anywhere with his mom and Uncle. It could literally be a trip to his Paternal Grandmother's house, and as long as his mom isn't working he is perfectly content
Miles tends to bite his nails and chew on his lips when he's nervous
By FAR the strangest thing Miles has ever seen was one of his classmates straight up touching their eyeball, that happened when he was 13 and it still freaks him out
Miles accepts advice relatively well, he doesn't show it but he does
He hates most pictures, but there was a few that his version Gwen took of him.
He is horrible at talking to someone he's got a crush on, like worse than 1610!Miles ;-;
Miles wakes up before his mom, when she's home, and makes her breakfast, he eats, showers, and goes to school, comes home, does his homework, goes to his boxing class (curtesy of Uncle Aaron), and depending on the day either goes on a job or goes to sleep
He has a few scars on his face from one of the first few jobs he was on when he wasn't far enough away from a bomb when it went off
Ocra. He CANNOT with the texture of it.
He loves stormy weather, its relaxing to him
He loves Fall and winter, the crisp air makes him smile
As a way to waste time, he goes to the gym or draws
When Miles wakes up from a nightmare, he kinda just lays there until he puts his headphones on and falls asleep to whatever song he's listening to
Miles collects little doo-dads from the street, it gives him something to fidget with
Miles knows English, Spanish, and French. He had to take a second language class and he COULDN'T take Spanish, so he's relatively fluent in French
Miles is the type of person to give someone the tightest most affection hugs, like even if he's just friends with the person. Hugs are like "I love you"s for Miles, they're sparing things from him
If Miles had three wishes from a genie he'd wish for:
1. His mother to either be paid more or for her to work less
2. His city to have less issues
3. To talk to his dad again
CROSSOVER: Miles is a gryffindor, with a Kingfisher Patronus and an 11.25 in Applewood wand with Unicorn hair ((I don't support J.K. Rowling))
Miles saw you in his clothes once and it MELTED him, he physically leaned against the wall and smiled stupidly
If you don't typically wear glasses (despite needing them, like my dumbass) and you wear them around Miles. The first time he saw you in them, he was distracted enough he walked into a wall.
Miles will protest being called cheesy things likes "Babydoll", "Pumpkin" "Sweets", "Bubba", "Light of My Life", "Tater Tot" (this happened ONCE, "Sunshine", "Dumpling", "Bambie", and "Babyface". He genuinely loves it when you call him that. Specifically: Babydoll, Pumpkin, and Sunshine. He still likes the other ones but loves those more.
#earth 42 miles morales#atsv#atsv drabble#beyond the spiderverse#miles morales#twins au#the prowler#atsv prowler#miles morales prowler#prowler miles#miles morales headcanons#earth 42 miles morales headcanons#miles morales earth 42#miles g morales
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𝓣𝔀𝓸'𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓪𝓷𝔂, 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮'𝓼 𝓪 𝓬𝓻𝓸𝔀𝓭
Tyler Galpin x Addams Reader
Request: „Xavier has had a obvious crush on y/n and puts himself in constant competition with Tyler y/n’s boyfriend which really makes Tyler show his true over protective side of y/n, that she loves to mess with to see how far she can get away with things. One day she decides to mess with Tyler like usual, flirting back with Xavier just to get a reaction out of Tyler until he breaks. Telling Xavier off holding y/n close to him as be always did. After Xavier and him are done arguing Tyler says nothing pulling y/n along with him as they walk to his car together to leave. Tyler still hasn’t spoken a word to y/n in the car on their way back to his house making y/n worry she’s actually gone to far this time. They get back to his house and he’s mad but not at exactly at y/n. He explains how he’s completely obsessed with y/n to her. Then they end up having rough makeup sex because I’m a slut for smut ofc.‟
A/N: Request written by anon, whom I thank in advance for the detail she/he put into it. It much easier writing when I know what people want or like so I don't disappoint my readers.
I hope you all gonna enjoy it.
Please remember english is not my native language, then can be some mistakes.
Work contains smut, minors do not interact.
She was in the Weathervane again, as was her habit. Sipping her black coffee, occasionally tapping her long fingernails against the white mug in which the hot drink was served.
She looked like a living painting, so beautiful and impossibly perfect, despite her indifferent eyes and grim face. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't the only one who thought so.
Tyler watched as one of the Nevermore students flirted with her in an extremely overt way, not even hiding how much he cared about Y/n's attention, his Y/n.
She was Wednesday's cousin, which made her Addams, although despite her last name, she did not share much of her family's traits, but Xavier didn't mind. The moment his eyes saw her, he was intoxicated by her, not even hiding how she affected him ,and Galpin hated it him for that.
But the girl was having a surprisingly lot of fun with it, even though she shouldn't have. Yet, she couldn't help it. Her dark heart filled with an unfamiliar warmth as she watched her boyfriend take her in his arms, each time the brunette took one step too many or spoke one word too far. She loved to feed on his overprotectiveness and possessiveness as if it were the sweetest dessert.
So when Thorpe decided to sit in her booth, smiling warmly which made his face even more handsome, the teenager started her little game. Smiling softly, she turned her attention to him. The coffee mug had long been forgotten, and the hand that held it was now resting her chin to feign interest in the words that were pouring out of his mouth. And even though their were intoxicatingly sweet and warm, Y/n didn't pay much attention to them.
They weren't from Tyler, so their wasn't of much value to her.
-You spend an awful lot of time in this cafe - said Xavier suddenly - Aren't you bored of constantly sitting in the booth and looking out the window?
-And you don't get bored of running all the time? - she asked, frowning slightly - You tire your body over and over again. There are other activities that can make you tired than constantly getting to point a or b - she concluded jokingly, a spark of malice sparking in her eyes.
Xavier smiled to himself. Sometimes he wondered if these little hints, the girl put in her statements was on purpose or maybe it was pure coincidence.
-I find that rather reassuring - he replied, bringing his body closer to hers, even though there was a table between them.
-What about drawing? Doesn't that calm you down?- she asked, also closing their distance as much as she could.
-Well, it stopped recently. You see my dreams are haunted more and more often by a girl who messed with my head. I only think about her - he confessed looking at her as she was one of the wonders of the world.
Y/n could’ve felt the intense, obsessive, even maniacal gaze on herself, which filled her black heart and soul with a surprisingly large amount of warmth, which she accepted with a shockingly great willingness.
-Oh, personally for me nightmares are something wonderful, the thrill when someone is chasing you is incomparable - confessed the girl with a smile - But if night visons mess with your head just as nightmares do, I think I can do something about it - she admitted, now arranging her head on both hands, so that the breasts between them were pressed together - Our Great Aunt Calpurnia. She was burned as a witch in 1706. They said she danced naked in the town square and enslaved the minister. I learned some of her tricks.
-I don't doubt it - Xavier muttered.
-But... something for something- she said, smiling subtly.
-Anything you want - he replied without breaking eye contact with her.
-I want you to paint me - she stated, even though she knew perfectly well that she was the object of his affection, but teasing Tyler was all too tempting -And if I remember the references correctly. I like you to paint me like one of your French girls - she added quietly but enough for the barista at the counter to catch her words.
The brunette let out a heavy breath. Watching Xavier turn red in the face and his eyes glowing with lust, he told himself enough was enough.
Alone with the two Nevermore students, he wasn't afraid to hit the countertop with a washed mug to show his annoyance, he wasn't afraid to approach the table with a look that could kill, revealing the much darker inside that the sheriff's son was hiding.
-We're closing - the boy said, even though it sounded more like a snarl -You should go Thorpe. I believe your headmistress won't be pleased if you don't come back - even though it sounded like a decent explanation, Y/n sensed that hidden speck of menace, and she wasn't the only one.
-Well, I'll take Y/n with me - he said, standing up, and the difference in height showed up immediately, but Galpin didn't care, his demeanor and aura fully made up for the lack of a few inches -She's a Nevermore student too.
-I’ll take care of her. You don't have to worry - he stated, grabbing her waist as she got up from the chair - But thank you for caring about my girl so much. Almost like you were in love with her.
-What, are you jealous? - Xavier asked defiantly, looking at the older boy.
-Jealous? Please, you don't even exist to me - he stated and his voice became lower, more menacing -Be my guest, have feelings for Y/n. But she will never love you back.
The green-eyed boy clenched his hand into a fist.
Between the two you could feel the heaviness of the whole situation and the girl quickly realized that the jokes ended right there.
Placing her hand on her boyfriend's chest, she tried to push him away, to silently let him know to stop, to give him affection, to make him forget about the brunette, but he didn't budge.
-It's weird because lately she's been giving me more attention than you. And I doubt you know what goes on within the walls of the school -Thrope confessed.
The whole body under Y/n's fingers tensed, which made her look into Tyler's eyes, which were directed towards her friend.
-Xavier - said the teenager - Just go...please - she added and only then he left her with a heavy heart, which drove the sheriff's son even more furious, seeing how easily he obeyed her requests, how devoted he was to win her approval - Ty - she whispered after a long moment - My beloved, I adore seeing you in a possessive state with eyes that can kill but not this time. Xavier is wrong, do you understand? You're the only one that holds my dark, cold heart.
Addams grabbed his cheek, trying to elicit any reaction from him again, but in vain because he didn't move, not responding to any of her touches.
The ride in the car was even worse than the silence the teenager gave her in the cafe. Y/n could only watch as Galpin reacted to her hand brushes and soothing words, or rather, how he didn't react. Her pale hand desperately held Tyler's, and it had been there for quite some time, but he hadn't held her hand or kissed her fingertips like he usually did.
When they finally arrived at his house, they found no one. Her boyfriend's father was almost never at home and she knew how he lamented it, but now she was grateful for his absence because she didn't know what would happen behind closed doors.
The brunette took her straight to his bedroom.
-My beloved? - whispered the girl, stubbornly trying to reach the teenager - I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings - she confessed, hugging his back - I understand if you're angry with me.
-I'm not -he finally said, sighing -I'm not mad at you, maybe more at myself- he said helplessly -When I first saw you, you took my breath away. I was crazy about you, obsessed with you, and when you agreed to be my girlfriend, I was the happiest guy on the planet. Maybe I just didn't love you enough.
-Oh Tyler - the girl said, burying her face between his shoulder blades -I just wanted to tease you. I didn't know I'd hurt you with it, I thought it would anger you.
-You wanted to anger me? - he asked as if offended and annoyed him at the same time - All this to get reaction out of me? - he muttered, turning around to look into her eyes.
Galpin suddenly grabbed her by the neck, not to hurt her, but to show that he wasn't in the mood for jokes.
Feeling his large hand on her neck, she sighed and clenched her legs.
She had dreamed of a darker version of Tyler, and now he stood before her in all his glory, ready to devour her.
-I want you to mark me, to show me who I really belong to - Y/n confessed, her eyes misting with desire -Please, Tyler.
-Oh, I'll show you exactly who you belong to - he whispered into her ear before attacking her neck with wet kisses and harsh bites.
The girl tilted her head back to give him more space as he assaulted her neck. Her hands found their place on the brunette's head, pulling his curls with her fingers, which made him growl from time to time, making the wetness between her legs only get stronger.
Tyler's own arms went to her waist, gliding his hot hands under the material of her clothes, filling her skin with a pleasant burning sensation. His fingers efficiently pulled every material in their path, so soon after Addams stood naked in the boy's arms, shamelessly enjoying his greed.
-Tyler -she whimpered as his lips left her body.
-On the bed, ass up - he said firmly.
Y/n shivered at the low tone of his voice ,complying to his command without question, wanting to appease him. Galpin watched as she obediently placed herself in the designated position, wiggling her hips suggestively, inviting him. And he gladly accepted her invitation.
Feeling his touch on her skin, she waited patiently.
-Ahh!- she squealed suddenly as his hand made contact with her asscheck.
-Who do you belong to?- Tyler asked.
-To you -she said, burying her face in the sheet beneath her.
Boy slapped her again, but this time she moaned loudly, delighted with the combination of pain and pleasure.
-Louder -he commanded, slapping her yet again, too intoxicated by the way her firm skin lay between his fingers.
-You. I belong to you - she said, looking at him with lust.
-Good girl - grunted the brunette, undressing himself after a while when Y/n watched, absorbing his muscular figure with her eyes - Get up princess - he added after a while, approaching and grabbing her neck.
The teenager connected their lips in a slow and sensual kiss. Their lips touched again and again, and their tongues only brushed occasionally, sending shivers down both lovers' backs.
-I want you to know how sorry I am - she confessed, breaking their caress.
-Don't worry. You'll have a chance to do that - he said, stroking her cheek, his thumb hooking over her bottom lip.
After a while, Tyler climbed onto the bed, arranging the girl as he wanted, which made her turn her back to her boyfriend, supporting herself on his thighs as her womanhood was exposed centrally in front of his face.
Y/n looked back, waiting for further instructions, but she only got a single smile before he dived deep into her folds, licking, kissing and sucking. She moaned in response, clenching her hands on the skin under her fingers, before she bent down to his member, repeating the same actions that the brunette was doing.
She tried to fit it all in, focusing on the task, but it was simply too big and she was too inexperienced. Catching her breath, she breathed deeply, moaning and whimpering alternately through the wet tongue of the boy who was devouring her like he was starving.
Covering her mouth with one of her hands, she tried to drown out the scream that wanted to escaped her mouth, only to actually scream when Galpin's hand met her clit.
-You do that again and I'll tie your hands and feet, and then I'll take you so that the only thing left for you is to be silent through your sore throat - he warned, gliding with his fingers around her entrance, seeing if she understood the message.
In response, Y/n moaned loudly and shamelessly, arching her back. Her climax was coming and going, making the feeling even more intense.
The brown-haired man outlined his assault, slurping her juices with great craving, making her orgasm approach unrestrainedly fast, too fast. The only warning was a silent cry before Tyler's chin and mouth were covered with a clear liquid.
-I'm sorry...I made a mess- she said in a hoarse voice, closing her eyes.
-Sweet mess- he said, carefully sliding her hips down so he could sit himself.
Y/n immediately took the opportunity, falling on his torso, burying her face in the crook of his neck, moaning directly into his ear as two fingers glided over her swollen clitoris before moving inside, stroking her tight and wet walls.
-Tyler - she whispered -Too much...
-One more- he said tenderly into her hair -Will you do it for me, hmm?- he asked, and she nodded sluggishly - My good girl, taking my fingers so well. Letting me stretch her out so I can enter her, right?
-Anything for you -she sputtered as her legs began to tremble with the intensity of another orgasm that came much faster than the previous one, pulling strings of pain that so deliciously completed the pool of sensations.
Galpin stared at her eyes, which were clouded with lust, closing again and again. His hand involuntarily went to her face, gliding over the hot cheek with his thumb. The teenage girl snuggled into his palm, sighing.
-You're tired. Do you want to stop?- brunette asked worriedly.
-You're not done marking me - she stated with a lazy smile, running her hand along her legs -You must mark me deep inside, my love.
A soft growl was the last warning before her back met the mattress again and her legs were placed on the boy's loins, who in one rough move entered her, filling her to the brim.
Tyler moved in her with strong and long strokes, watching as if hypnotized as her breasts bounced with each stroke and the way the outline of his member glided in her lower abdomen.
-I'm so close - Y/n moaned, lifting her head up heavily, begging for kisses.
The teenager granted her request by kissing her swollen lips, pausing every now and then to listen to how beautiful his name sounded when she repeated it like a prayer.
-You're squeezing me so tight - he growled into her mouth -You like how I treat you,hmm? You like it when I use you like you're just a rag doll. Mine to ruin and destroy, mine alone.
-Yours, oh god, only yours - she said, almost on the verge of tears.
The third orgasm that took over her body was overwhelming. Making her see the stars, almost losing consciousness. The boy was still moving, wanting to feel the feeling of wet walls tightening like ticks as long as possible before he did what his girlfriend begged him for. He marked her insides.
Y/n moaned gently, feeling the sudden warmth that poured from inside of her, directly between her asschecks. Holding Galpin's neck, she pulled him to her, snuggling into his larger body, which covered her form completely.
-I love you - she said after a while, stroking his hair.
-I love you too, very much - the sheriff's son replied, kissing her breasts and sucking her skin from time to time to create additional marks on her body.
-Tyler - she said, and he murmured confirming that he was listening -Next time, don't torture yourself, beloved. That's my job.
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Ch.2 To be loved
Seeing him was the highlight of my day. I remembered when I was nothing but an orphan, though I can't remember my biological parents. I sometimes like to think they died. It was the best way for me when I was just a kid. To accept the fact that even the ones who gave you life viewed as nothing but a mistake was difficult. My mother viewed her destiny as saving her country, getting rid of the drugs that were taking lives. In my opinion, people died all the time. Life was hard. We have no idea what someone is going through until they are pushed to the end. She would never understand that struggle. That pain. When I heard it was si-o behind all this, I had to know why. People have reasons, I had to be the one to see the good in him. Even if no one else could. I was falling in love, love makes you do dumb things.
Whether I was dumb or hopeless, I wanted to know him. Not the version he showed to the public, the fake smiles meant nothing to me. I wanted to see him truly smile, to be happy. I happened to be at one of my mothers many chain restaurants. And to my luck sitting there was the man I had hoped for, now I hadn't prepared myself to speak to him and I realized that when he had made eye contact with me. Stern, serious glare like he knew I was watching him. Talking to people wasn't necessarily the issue. I talked my way out of parking tickets, jail, and even school punishments as a child. I was a smooth talker, one thing I developed from my mom. Though he made me nervous, my hands were sweating, and I had the urge to convert into oxygen. I wanted to cry because as much as I hated to admit it, his opinion of me meant a lot. One accidental interaction, and I was hooked. He knew me as Tseg tseg rich spoiled friend. I wanted him to see me. It already pissed me off that he had eyes for my sister. She took everything from me without even fucking trying. I had to man up and fight for what I wanted.
"Hello sir, you probably don't know me, but my name is Danny. We kinda met before when I bumped into you at your company." He smiled though I could tell it was fake, after years of faking happiness myself. I knew a fake smile from a mile away. "Right, your Tseg's little friend, correct?" Irritation couldn't even be used as the word for what I felt in that moment, I wanted him to see me. "Technically, that's how we met, though I just wanted to say something t-to you. Please." I stood up drawing attention to myself truly not what I needed right now, but I had to tell him before anything else happened. My anxiety was through the roof, I wanted to crawl into a hole and die right then and there standing under his intimidating stare. I had to do this, though. He was the first person I felt genuine feelings for, and I didn't even know him personally. The effect he had on me was outrageous.
"I wanted to go out with you. I want to get to know you, and I know I'm not korean, and your parents may have an issue with that, but I mean Nationality vise I am. Everyone thinks I'm just this spoiled rich assshole, but i im not, and i want to show you that there is more to me than my money or parents' money. I have korean parents, so that counts, I'm well accounted for, and I have seen you before, and you're all I think about no matter what. I try to get my mind off of you, and my brain proceeds to show different connections to you. And if you p-plan to reject me, just sit here and silence, and I won't ever bother you again. Well, I hope so, I can try." He was astonished but my speech. Everyone had turned their attention towards us and started clapping. I hadn't even noticed at first. I couldn't handle rejection, especially not by him. I wanted to be with him, breathe in his scent, and help him with anything. Live a life with him. Silence was what I got, and I took the message. I had embarrassed him and myself.
Suddenly, walking out, trying to hold back tears, I was 5 years old me again. I'm sitting at my dance recital waiting for my mommy. She promised she would come today since I told her how much this meant to me. Sitting there for the next 4 hours in nothing but silence was the worst feeling a child could feel. The competition was over, I didn't even dance, missing a chance to get picked for a major academy. I saw dad pull up. Why did she hate me so much. "Honey, you didn't tell me you had a competition today, and I found the scouts there as well. I would've shown up, baby." I stared at him. I was a daddy's girl simply because my mother broke my heart before I could ever feel love from her. "I didn't tell you because I told Mommy. I wanted her to come watch me this time. To surprise her with my skills." Just glancing at him, I knew that look, the look of a father who was afraid to break their already broken child. I snapped out of it when I felt someone shaking my shoulders. Looking up, it was him. "I've been calling you for 20 minutes. You almost got hit by that truck. Are you even paying attention?" I stared at him, I didn't know what to say, would he care enough to hear. "You ran out before I could say anything. Scared? You're very pretty. And bold. I've never had someone confess their love for me in a public area at that. I admire that, while I don't really know you, I would like to get to know you. Experience something."
I was so happy at that moment that I completely ignored the world around me. I jumped onto him. He was startled at first but caught me with ease. I leaned back and cupped his face, pecking his cheek, and for that first time, I saw a genuine smile. A real surprise for me, I enjoyed it. "You look beautiful when you smile, like a hidden jem only made for the luckiest humans to gaze at." He stared at me, blushing. From that moment, we slowly got to know each other, getting closer day and night. Developing an unbreakable bond. I didn't care he was a so-called criminal. When I was with him, none of that mattered. I never asked about his business, letting him know if he wanted to tell me he could. I kept this from my family, I knew they would never approve of what we had, especially my mother. She didn't give a shit about me, but in a situation like this, she saw him as an enemy.
We sat at a Korean BBQ shop. It was simply nice to spend time at a place with no worries. "I could've taken you someone nicer, you know." I placed some meat on the grill what grabbing a piece and putting it in front of his mouth. He smiled and opened his mouth to eat it. "Is it good? And you know I don't care about expensive restaurants. I've been to enough in my lifetime. I just want to be with you. To be honest, you could've gotten fried chicken and took to me the beach to eat. It's the thought that counts, babe." He smiled at me, I smiled back until I realized the petname I gave him immediately going to apologize. "It's fine, I actually like it. Babe." Blushing, I gave him more meat. We talked about our days, he was stressed and I wanted to help. Thought he said I shouldn't stress myself. We finished eating and literally had a full-on battle over who would pay the bill. I won, "Maybe I'll let you pay next time." He laughed, grabbing my hand and walking out of the shop. While pda was no foreign concept to me, it still made me feel like it was the first interaction between us each time it happened. "Come home with me, please." I stared at him in shock. He had never asked me this. I had no experience in relationships, but usually, that leads to other things. I didn't know what was gonna happen, but I trusted him.
We showed up to his home. He told me to wash up for the night. I happily got in the shower to think I was happy. A foreign feeling. My shower lasted well over 30 minutes, I looked down and saw a towel and a button-up shirt. Luckily, I always kept a spare thong with me. Putting on the clothes, I walked out of the bathroom to find him already washed up and laying in bed. A blue robe and pajama pants on while he was on the phone. I walked out of the room to got place my clothes in the hamper, then grabbed a glass of water. I was drinking it while examining the home I had never been inside. Eventually, I walked back towards the room where he was done with his phone call. And looked up with a dropped jaw. I smiled at his antics. "You're still so pretty. With and without the makeup. Come here." Walking slowly towards his bed, he gestured for me to move closer. I crawled to him, and apparently, it wasn't close enough because he picked me up and placed me on his lap while holding my hips. I felt nervous. He noticed squeezing my hips with his larm hands.
I grabbed one of his hands, placing them in mine. Comparing the size and then kissing his palms, I looked up at him to see a bright smile. "I'm not tired yet." I told him it usually took me a while to go to sleep. I was just always up. He nodded and pulled me closer in a hug. Affection from si-o was always the best. I could tell he wasn't the most affectionate person, so I didn't push him. Though I craved his touch, I craved everything about him. Looking out the window, I saw the stars. "This reminds me of when my mom took me and my siblings camping once. It was weird, though it was fun." I continued to look at the stars until he spoke up. "You don't talk about your mother much. Actually, you don't talk about her at all. For a second, I thought she had passed." I was shocked by the thought of my mothers absence. Sure, I never spoke about her because there weren't any good memories, to be honest. "It's fine if you don't want to speak about it." I looked at his face full of concern he was so patient with me, but I wanted him to know and trust me like I did him. "It's ok, it's just.....there isn't much to talk about, you know. She was there but not there. She was always focused on my older sister. She was the amazing daughter who could do no wrong. And I was simply the girl that lived in her house, or that's what it felt like. Sometimes, it felt like I didn't have a mom to begin with. To think I used to pray to have a mother that would be there for me. Then my sister went missing, and as much as I hate to say it, I was happy, for once I though she would pay attention to me, realizing she had two daughters but it only got worse. I was just there, and I hated myself for the fact that I was happy my sister was gone. I've always been jealous of her she is better in every way. That's so evil of me, but I was so fucking lonely. She is such a good person, and makes friends so easily and everyone likes her but me they look down on me. I'm nothing more then a spoiled bitch using her parents credit card to fill the void."
Before I noticed, I was full on sobbing in front of him. I broke down, secrets I've never told anyone in my life. I was afraid of what the world would think of me. He grabbed my shaking hands, kissing them slowly, whining, moving up to wipe my tears. "Your feelings are normal baby, you went your entire life playing second place because your mother is a terrible mother, no offense. A bit of a bitch you know. No secret there since she is Hwang Geum Joo." Hearing that part made me laugh. Until I sat there shocked he knew of my parent. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you." It was all I could say at the moment. He looked at me and pressed against my cheeks, letting me know it was ok. And he underdtood the urge to protect her even if she wanst good to me. Or cared for me, it seems."You are so amazing and kind and beautiful. She isn't better than you at all. I wish you could see the way I see you. You have lightened up my world as a whole. I was nothing but a cold, damaged asshole when I met you, then I realized no matter how my life pushes and kicks your ass its your choice to get back up. To keep going, you taught me that baby. All the drug business and shady stuff I do, you don't judge me at all. Sitting by my side supporting me no matter what I choose to do. When I was an orphan and Pavel took me in, trained me to become the person I am today, hit after hit. Missed meal after another, I prayed for a better life. You have provided that life." Hearing those words, my heart was swelled. I felt nothing but love for the first time someone chose me, loves me. I wasn't an option. I was a need. "I'm so glad you chose me or tseg." Hearing that, he laughing pulling me closer if that was possible. "I never liked tseg baby, she is a worker at my company that'd all. If anything, I had my eyes on you since you walked into the building." Similing in pure joy, I leaped forward, causing a groan to come of his mouth. Scared I hurt him, I tried to get up until he forced my hips back down. It was then I realized I hadn't hurt him. In fact, the moment u felt something hard poking me thigh, I blushed.
"How in the world did you get hard, sir?" He simply smiled at my words, moving me forward to the point where I was sitting directly on top of his hard on. My core pushed further into it slowly until he began grinding me against him. I couldn't help but moan. It all felt too good. "Have you seen my beautiful girlfriend sitting right on top of me in nothing but my shirt? If anything, it was difficult not to." Moans slipped from my mouth before I could let out a sarcastic response. Finally, I said the words I had been so afraid to ever tell anyone. "I love y-you." Hearing this, he sped up my hips against his, leaning in to capture my lips into a kiss. "I love you more, baby." We continued until we were left naked and bare before each other, and all the insecurities, abandonment issues, and pain left my mind. Leaving nothing but si-o. The night was a night to remember.
Stay tuned for chapter 3.
#stronggirlnamsoon x reader#strong girl nam soon#byeonwooseok x reader#ryu shi oh x reader#ryu shi oh
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Just a little bit of housekeeping. Bear with me.
You may call me Jackal. I'm an adult and literally do not give a hoot about what pronouns you use for me. I do not claim to be a good person. If I was a good person, this account would not exist. I am a civil and polite person, though, and I expect you all to be the same. I am a mechatronics major who previously was pursuing a degree and career in psychology, before determining that I didn't like dealing with people's self-issues and switching majors to mechatronics, though I do try to continue with psych courses as I do find knowledge of human psychology to be key when programming. From the ages of 14-18, I worked in childcare at a highly acclaimed summercamp, along with smaller day camps and after-school activities. From the ages of 10 to 18, I took a variety of classes focused on childcare. This has led me to realize that I absolutely hate children. So, believe me, I will not hurt your child and they will receive the best care that I can give with my training if I have them for whatever reason, however, I do not want kids anywhere around me period, much less do I have any desire to touch, let alone fuck them.
I do not write nor read most lolicon, incest, or bestiality content. I do not support pedophilia, incest, rape, or bestiality in real life. I do read lolicon of adult women with more youthful bodies, because that content helps me grow confidence in my own body, as I'm constantly mistaken to be a child despite being above the age of 18. I do hope all child-touchers, animal-fuckers, rapists, racists, and anybody else who harms a living thing out of ill will rots in jail. To reiterate, this account is strictly ANTI-CONTACT. You can't control paraphilias but you can control the harm they cause.
I do support the protection of all things fictional, because if we make the things a few people find morally wrong to be illegal, we've then already lost when the folks on top go after fiction supporting LGBT, non-christian religions, etc.
I also support the protection of vent pieces, even if that vent centers around things like pedophilia, rape, etc. I am proud of you for taking yet another step towards healing from abuse you suffered in the past and/or from the harmful paraphilias that you struggle with currently.
This account is built on the notion that any interaction will be productive and good-natured regardless of the involved parties. You are free to give your stance on why proship is bad...so long as you accept the fact that people are then welcome to debate back on why proship isn't bad. Any debates that turn hairy will be ended, however, healthy debate and challenging your beliefs is a wonderful way to continuously educate yourself.
Despite my account, I do not intend on forcing an belief on you. In fact, I greatly support that you look at both anti-proship and proship content, and make the effort to educate yourself as well as possible and determine what belief you truly belong to. There is no good in trapping yourself in an echo chamber.
You are free to submit any points as asks or submissions. So long as they are productive and good-natured, I will post them, regardless of what side they take. If they are not productive or good-natured, they will either be deleted, or I will post them to both clown on you for being an asshole and educate you the best I can on why anti-proship is a rather harmful belief system.
Feel free to draw my attention to any posts I haven't reblogged yet that would fit in to this blog. I'll look them over and reblog them.
Most posts will be reblogs, asks, and submissions. However, I may occasionally post my own thoughts. These will often be tagged with #jackal barks, but sometimes I will forget. Any hate comments will be simply tagged as #hatemail.
I have an alternate account called @proshitters-against-constipation . I use that blog to reblog content from antis and shower it in compliments. Look, it's funny watching them sob because a 'nasty, nasty person' gave them a genuine, heartfelt compliment.
Please just block this blog if uncomfortable with the content. It's very glitchy on my phone, so most of the time, tags are incredibly minimal. I will not hold anything against you for blocking the blog. The whole point is that you are the one responsible for curating your online existence. If you dislike incest ships, block em. Dislike noncon content, block it. Dislike the contents of this blog, block me. You control what you see, just as others control what they see. Curate your feed, don't curate others.
Thank you all for reading this, and remember, if you let them destroy the fiction you find morally despicable, then when they come for what you enjoy and support, you've already lost.
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Ask/submission tagging system!
#pro stance - proshipper asks
#anti stance - antishipper asks
#no stance - asks of indeterminate standing
#birthday wishes - B O R T H
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If you actually scrolled down this far, have a fun, exciting, and inconclusive list of beings I would be down to smash:
•Stain (MHA)
•Overhaul (MHA)
•EVA-01 (NGE)
•EVA-02 (NGE)
•Xue Yang (MDZS)
•Kurloz Makara (Homestuck)
•Mothman
•Bigfoot
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things i love abt alex
the way he hated on henry
new years kiss with nora
"he has the personality of a cabbage"
"i'd rather not be the little spoon"
everything in the closet (the literal one)
telling henry that return of the jedi being his favourite is wrong
HRH prince dckhead 💩
makes june read narcissistic fanfics abt himself
"tell shaan i say hi and i miss that sweet sweet ass xoxoxo"
turkeys gobbling and alex screaming
calling henry to make him listen to turkeys gobble
THIS SCENE. "C'mon, it's, like, in the hips. You have to loosen up." He reaches down and puts both hands on Henry's hips, and Henry immediately tenses under his touch. "That's the opposite of what I said."
"Nora! Henry has never watched a bunch of teenagers dry hump to this song!"
his entire relationship with nora
like, he's pretty sure he's straight
see, this means i can't possibly be into guys
making out with liam. award goes to liam for being the best side character ever
calling liam four years after they made out to ask if they were ever a thing and if there was a chance he was into boys
makes out with henry in front of a portrait of alexander hamilton
"for fck's sake man you just had my dck in your mouth you can kiss me goodnight"
first son of your former colony
"it's recently come to my attention you're not quite as boring as i thought. sometimes. namely when youre doing the thing with your tongue."
"baby" and pretending not to notice when henry positively melts.
"wanna do something stupid?" then wrapping his wet lips around his bottle of beer
getting henry drunk
loser with no friends besides his sister, his ex, his boyfriend, his boyfriend's best friend, and his boyfriend's sister
all his emails to henry
"tf is this? aren't there poor people in your country?"
him and zahra. "something you'd like to share with the class?"
"oh f*ck me" "f*cking sh*t" and the rest of the swearing string
yrs/ affectionately yrs
history, huh? bet we could make some
him and june
flying to England and shouting for henry to come out and talk to him
"I can see why all y'all had to marry your f*cking cousins"
"I f/cking love you, okay?"
"what do you want? "i want you" "then f/cking have me"
"i'll leave as soon as you tell me to leave"
"tell me to leave"
alex, nora, and june iconic trio
"stop are you kidding me?" "prince consort road? oh my god, take a picture of me with the sign."
"sweetheart, you're proof too"
when he made a list of things he loved about henry
comforting henry so tenderly in the car
f/cking yrs
"sweetheart" in the airplane
"zahra, you're my mean friend"
stopping the car to look at a drawing of himself (and henry ofc) XD
you know the scene where he woke up and wiggled his ass against henry um okay hahah we'll leave that there
his love for texas and his final interaction with liam
#rwrb#rwrb spoilers#rwrb book#red white and royal blue#alex claremont diaz#henry fox mountchristen windsor#alex x henry#prince henry rwrb#alex rwrb#june rwrb#june claremont diaz#nora holleran#nora rwrb
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if this comes off as a really weird and pretentious ask please just delete it but since iirc you've been in this fandom since 2019 or before 2019 i need to know . how do you deal with such in bad faith takes ??? i scroll & move on & filter tags as much as i can but it's astounding how anybody from any corner of this fandom will have piss poor takes whether they support canon or fanon
lmao not a bad question at all. some background context feels necessary: i’ve been very into atla since i was a kid, and before i used this blog i talked about it (and lok, because korrasami melted my brain) a lot on my primary blogs. in november 2018 i convinced my friend to start watching atla, and she got extremely into it. we talked about atla every day for months. eventually, my friend started this blog in summer of 2019 to talk about atla and invited me to join. it was mostly a repository for our inside jokes and for me to post the fanart i had been drawing on my phone. it was really just a space for our circle of mutuals to have some laffs.
the atla fandom was very small at the time so we were really one of the only blogs actively talking about the show. by complete accident, however, some of our posts got popular, and we accrued quite a bit of a following. we didn’t really know what to do with all the attention (some of it extremely negative and unhinged at that), and it would only get worse after “the atla renaissance.” we got more followers than we knew what to do with, at which we considered just abandoning the blog. my friend did, and handed over the reins to me.
for her, atla was a recent interest that had soured after the fandom became too much to handle, but for me it was an interest that had endured since childhood, and i found that despite all the negative attention, i still really enjoyed having a space where i could unpack my feelings towards this thing that felt like such a significant cultural touchstone, feelings towards characters i had been so deeply moved by for so long, and i enjoyed making art on a consistent basis for an actively receptive audience who praised my skills as an (extremely amateur) artist.
i’ve been drawing atla characters for a very long time, long before i had this blog, but it feels like the incentive to draw for an audience is what motivated me to improve my art over the years, so that’s genuinely been a really nice thing. and i enjoy analyzing art, literature, and media, so trying to pick apart one single text (or multiple connected texts if you wanna bring in lok, the comics, and the novels) for so long is very fun for me.
however, as much as i’ve tried to avoid engaging with bad faith takes, i am nonetheless aware that there is a not insignificant contingent of the fandom who viscerally hate my guts for whatever reason. it’s definitely less prevalent in my daily life now that the fandom is less active (cannot begin to emphasize enough how much the atlassaince ruined my life), but at the time a lot of people wanted to make their hatred of this blog known, loudly. which, especially when you’re in the middle of a lockdown and you cannot leave your room for fear of possibly dying, is not a great feeling.
that’s not really what you’re asking, but since i have had to deal with “bad faith takes” in the most personal possible way, my advice would simply be to try to shut it out. i follow maybe two or three atla blogs, and they are blogs that do not interact with the larger fandom. i do not seek out what other blogs have to say, and confine my scope to my friends and responding to my inbox.
for some reason, atla does seem to be a bad opinions factory, but actively seeking out those opinions is simply not conducive to one’s mental health or a productive use of time, which is why i keep to myself and try to mind my own business. i cannot control how i am perceived, which i am viscerally reminded of every time i see someone reblog an older post from this blog that i didn’t even make (and sometimes straight up do not agree with), but i try to remind myself that this literally has no bearing on my material existence whatsoever, and bad posts aren’t real they can’t hurt you <3
#making this nonrebloggable for obvious reasons#dogsinspaces#asks#housekeeping#running this blog has been such a strange surreal experience#but also. i am just minding my own business it’s fine. this is fine.
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💛CW mentions of final fusion in systems (as a concept). System rambling.
Despite technically being a system account we rarely ever post about being a system. Part of that I think is because of shame we’ve been fighting through the years and the other part I think is that sense that nobody would really care, despite wanting to educate and such. I’d like us to be more out. We stream openly as a system with our loved ones who all treat us as individuals and try to create a safe space also for others who feel outcasted in some sense. (Neurodiverse, other systems, etc). We encourage people to be their authentic selves to the best of our ability all while sitting here being out but being afraid of drawing attention to it. We want to be people and be seen as individuals but sometimes it feels like the only way to do that and be taken seriously is to be very open about it, make constant content specifically about it, etc. I would love to talk about our day to day interacting with each other in system or our loved ones. I love when other systems have told us they feel safe to be themselves around us/because we are out and fairly open. I don’t think I’m personally afraid of fake claims as much as I’m afraid of feeling like a jester jingling around miserably for the “entertainment” of others and not being able to effectively do what I want, which is normalize systems who want to be treated as individuals getting actually taken seriously and treated like the individuals we are. We aren’t characters. We aren’t “one person who just changes their hat sometimes”, we are our own people. I have a love/hate with the way I see DID and other dissociative disorders received online and I loathe the way others have used it as a scapegoat to be horrible to people we care about over the years. I don’t want to dwell on the negative parts of our diagnosis as it’s not great to be reduced down to a “symptom” instead of a full person the same as the others. Also hate the “you don’t have DID bc you aren’t miserable enough” or on the opposite side of the coin, “wow being a system must be terrible why don’t you try to integrate/achieve “final fusion” Etc etc etc. so on and so forth.
I feel like we shouldn’t need a “good enough reason” to want to “stay plural”. I respect those that want to achieve final fusion through therapy, but it freaks us out. We have friends, partners, lives of our own in some sense and that for me is more than enough reason to find ways to cope and survive as a system.
#rambling#system stuff#dissociative identity disorder#did system#idk man#hi it’s Joseph#cw final fusion
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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐞𝐣 𝐆𝐡𝐚𝐟𝐚'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
a/n: I love Inej so much oh my gosh, so this was a tad self-indulgent...
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ
SFW🌿
⭑ Inej has a lot of walls; she doesn’t like to show herself, nor her feelings. So your 5 interactions were just her ... being silent
⭑ And you knew she was aware of everyone in the room. Everything they did, their movements, their voices - hell even their breathing.
⭑ From your own hypervigilance, you could see more than others. You noticed more. And Inej held your attention like no other
⭑ She was beautiful; well with what you could tell. Having seen parts of her face. Even the way she held herself was like no other.
⭑ She noticed you too. But her attention was on your intentions; what did you want, why were you here and what did you intend on doing?
⭑ You were the one that first started a conversation ... well tried to. And you pursued Inej. Only because you wanted to better your life. To higher your station. You came from a lowly neighborhoodd, your family had died in an illness and you wanted to find a home. A safe one, with safe people and a steady income.
⭑ It wasn’t until Helen had scouted you for the Menagerie, that Inej stepped in. She was quite cross with yo, until she learned of your reasoning.
“I have nowhere else to go!” You shouted, tears slipping from your eyes.
“I- I know a place.”
⭑ She took you to Kaz, and he gave you a barkeep job. And you weren’t that good at first (who is?) But over time you learned. Jesper seemed to take a liking to you. You had big emotions and were still learning how to understand them. Sometimes when you got too emotional ... things would happen. Unexplainable things.
⭑ You stayed in one of the rooms above the club. Never making much noise, always being polite and never being late for work.
⭑ You felt safe. Even if you were in a gang. Surrounded by criminals. You didn’t care - you had people.
⭑ The relationship with Inej was grounded in friendship, trust and loyalty. She was your stable person; your rock. And you were someone new - a face that she was yet to open up to. But in time, she did.
⭑ Kaz was distant and most of the time you thought he hated you. But Jesper said “he’s like that with everyone - and if he didn’t want you here ... well you wouldn’t be here.”
⭑ One day you were slumped at the bar, rag over your shoulder as you stared at your feet. The club had closed and no tenant was insight. But you felt like a burden, on everyone. Your thoughts were heavy and showed on your face.
⭑ Inej noticed like she does with most things. And sat gracefully on the stool.
“I don’t think I’ve seen anyone this sad since Jesper lost his goat.”
“Jesper lost a goat?” Your eyes found hers and a smile was already growing on your face.
⭑ Inej liked your smile. And she liked being the reason for it.
⭑ Her feelings slowly grew, but yours were already there. You loved being in her company. Her thoughts were so different from everyone around her.
⭑ One night when the moon was full and high in the sky, you had kissed Inej.
⭑ She didn’t speak to you for two days. But when she saw you, her lips found your own.
⭑ As a significant other Inej is thoughtful and kind. She has a lot of love to give.
⭑ She loves having a person. A safe person; someone she can go to for anything.
⭑ You love giving her gifts, although she tells you not to spend your money on her.
⭑ You two would share a room; and Inej doesn’t own many things but does love to create. She’s great at drawing and her desk is covered in sketches
⭑ You covered the walls with trinkets and maps. Showing Inej how big the world is. On tough days it helped you to know that there were millions of people out there. All living their lives.
⭑ You never touch her daggers; not because you’re afraid of what she would do. Absolutely not. But because you know how special they are to her. You’d only handle them with respect.
⭑ She loves cuddling; although Inej isn’t big into PDA - she loves being close to you when you’re alone.
⭑ You tell each other everything about yourselves; even if you can’t remember things, you’ll quietly whisper them as you walk past each other in the club, or out on the streets.
⭑ You leave her favourite flower on her pillow, hidden in her boots, next to her daggers. You try to make her life more exciting in that way
⭑ Inej sees you as her hope. Her light in the darkness of Ketterdam.
⭑ Jesper would tease the two of you, and he would be met with a firm slap on the arm.
⭑ You hate Helen and do everything to stop yourself from killing her
#shadow and bone#six of crows#inej ghafa headcanons#inej ghafa x reader#inej ghafa x you#headcanons#shadow and bone headcanons#six of crows headcanons#grishaverse#grishaverse headcanons#grisha#inej ghafa x grisha reader#alina starkov#mal oretsev#the female gaze#witchthewriter#kaz brekker#the crow club#jesper lahey
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I agree!! aftermaths are ALWAYS my favourite to read during forced pregnancy stories and I actually hate when it ends with the yandere impregnating darling like how do u know if she truly got pregnant? where’s the horror in finding out you’re carrying your rapist’s child(ren)? how does reader deal with that? how does the yandere react to that? (I’m sure he knows but finding out the news from you yourself would surely elicit different emotions) how does he react when you say you wanna get rid of it? how do they both cope as parents? sooo many possibilities!! I’m glad to know the story I requested will not end with epel just impregnating darling!! thank you sm for that <3
also seeing as how both you and the other anon rank epel low I hope to see he be ranked higher in the future >:3
- epel felmier anon 🍎💜
ALL the freaking possibilities! The machinations of the yandere's mind when the baby-trapping (consensual or not) isn't received well is bound to be endlessly fascinating. Idk, stories work well sometimes if you let the reader imagine the hopelessness of a situation, but they work even better if you showcase it.
I'm putting the other stuff under a cut because I'm about to go on a bit of a tangent. Also, I have not read book seven yet, if anyone spoils it, I will temporarily block you until after I have read it.
I ranked Epel a C the first time because I didn't know anything about him at the time, almost every character save for the ones I really loved the designs for were lower than I would put them today, and frankly some were higher. I've done another tier list, this is not the old one. I have a pretty high opinion of most of the characters regardless of their ranking, here's the maker I used.
Okay, so, I feel the need to specifically explain Crewel: I don't like being treated like a dog. Pet play is not my thing, and I do not understand the hype surrounding him whatsoever. Why would I want to hang out with someone who probably smells like a really strong, expensive cologne and refuses to call me anything other than "good boy"? No thanks, y'all can have him. Crowley is self-explanatory.
Riddle, Silver, and Lucius all have their good qualities, I will admit. But I'm the type of person who would avoid both of the people for varying reasons (Riddle is annoying, I don't like being bothered when I'm minding my own fucking business because I'm "breaking the rules" and I don't want to wake up Silver and I don't know enough about him,) and I would get irrationally mad at Lucius for always getting into fights with Grim.
C tier is somewhat similar to D for me. I'd very likely not go out of my way to interact with these guys, but they're either more approachable or less irritating than D tier. I'm sure you can see a trend with at least two of them, but most of these mfs are too high energy or too intense. Sebek is here because while I don't like petplay, I do like degradation and I think he would be excellent at that, given his usual temperament and opinion on humans. Deuce is there because I find him to be a very one-note character. Everyone in this game is well-written, but not everyone can be interesting. Trein is here because I know I'd be constantly getting in trouble in his class for drawing instead of paying attention. By the way, when did people who were 50 become old? Idk I consider old to be like 70+ but maybe that's just because of the people I grew up around.
B tier is characters that I am aware I am sleeping on, with the bonus of Vargas, who I actually like quite a bit. Not enough to put him in higher than B tier, though. Ortho and Idia are sort of a package deal, but I do like Ortho less than I like Idia. Azul pisses me off but I am a sucker for a pathetic man.
EPEL!!! THE ONE WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR!! Epel is like Deuce, if Deuce had more of a twisted view of himself. Reading though his little dilemma in book 5 didn't make me sympathize, but it did endear him to me. I can understand getting upset because you are literally unable to express yourself in a way that you would like because of reasons outside of your control. Beyond that, I love it when characters have a secret rough side (sorry Deuce.) Two-faced characters are my favorite thing.
A tier is characters I would like to put in S but I am too scared of them to do so. While C and lower are characters I would avoid because they're annoying, A tier is literally just characters I would avoid because they're freaky. I think people forget that the first interaction we have with Leona is him threatening to beat the shit out of us because we accidentally tripped on his tail. While Trey is sweet, he's the absolute definition of a two-faced character and he's way too observant to be comfortable around. Idk, maybe that makes him boyfriend material. I feel like anyone who has been on this blog at this point already understands my viewpoint of Jade, Floyd, and Rook. They scare the mess out of me and I love them for that.
With S tier, I'm actually going to specify a couple things: Sam is up there because I know I'd constantly be in his shop, buying things with thaumarks I should save just because I know his shop would smell like home. I feel like where a lot of people see Sam and think "this man can FUCK," I see Sam and think "big brother material." The sibling that I am closest to is literally just barely a year younger than Sam. Also, to clarify, I'm Black with family from the south. Grim is also sibling material. He's like a little brother, and I love him for that even though he pisses me off.
Now back to the WHORE KNEE. I very desperately want to bring my personal Vil series to this blog. I think maybe someone else would enjoy it, because what's more lovely than a man who sees what he wants in a person that isn't what he wants but forces to be what he wants anyway? I love that shit. Lilia is prime fodder for coercion fics, and I'd love to see more of those because he's very wise (because he's old as hell) and he's had a lot of practice at being a sweet talker. I think with a gullible reader?? Oh my god??? I'm not shy about my opinion on Malleus, Jamil, and Idia, and I think I talk about Idia a bit too much. Jamil stole my heart from the minute he was all sweet and kind in book 4 because he is so obviously two-faced that only the overly trusting would fall for that. Also, Jafar was something of an awakening for me. Who cares about Aladdin? I want the old man. As for Malleus, I like that he fills out the gap moe trope, but not overly so. He absolutely strikes me as the type to assume he knows best for both parties involved, and if he doesn't assume, he decides for you.
Anyway, knowing me, this list will have switched all over the place in a month's time. Thanks for reading my garbled nonsense.
#twisted wonderland#tw: dark content#tw: dark themes#tw: yandere#twst#the blot talks!#the blot gets personal???#the blot rants!#anon asks#anon answered#thank you for sending an ask!!#disney twst#yandere#this is really long#i'm so sorry
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https://twitter.com/jmnpromise/status/1584878533255364608?t=xtBET9bYwZQnFeXk5uGxZg&s=19
Goldy what's your take on tge shift of yoonmin dynamic? We know that suga used to adore jm and was close back in the days but at some point they get distant from each other, then we see them latly close again being paired up most of the time and suga tries to complement jm a lot, do you think that they hade some issues in the past and know they're working on their friendship?
Oh YOOOONMMMMMIINNNNNN!!!! My old love☹
Take a look here people- A true hyung dongsang relationship dynamic unfolding before our very eyes😍😍😍😍😍😋
Chilee not me feeling all warm and fussy inside🤧
Look at JM's cheek to cheek smile🥺🥺🥺🥺
No but Suga is so coola!
Glad to see him take a compliment back without cringing good for him.
He is what I wished I could be to Jimin if I didn't want to fuck him🙃
Just give give give to him but take nothing in return, want nothing, expect nothing cos I know my feelings will never be reciprocated🙃
But my toxicity would not allow me to be his friend 😴
Certainly not Jungkook's.
Neither he nor I are Santa and your boy gotta pay up
There's nothing wrong with them. That's just their dynamic. They're not in love but they don't hate eachother either. They bicker, then they go civil, then the next moment it's nuclear war and Jimin is cussing out in French Spanish and Swahili 😭
But it's all love.
If it helps think of JM as periodically having PMS around Suga. Sometimes it's nothing personal, he just doesn't want to be touched or dotted on or have people cling on to him while he trying to stand there serve looks and look pretty for the camera🙂
Seen his legs when he stands? I rest my case.
If your mom never slicked down your brows with her saliva in front of your friends you won't know JMs pain😭😭😭😭😭😭
You can't go anywhere with bangtan sometimes 😫😫
Other times too frankly his boyfriend just isn't in a good mood and he doesn't want to make things worse between them by feeding ships😕
Yoonmin are not the naturally gravitating towards each other duo in the group. Doesn't mean they have bad blood. But when you have Jikook constantly sitting together gravitating towards eachother it leaves no room for them to be seen with other people.
Sometimes its necessary the company steps in to pair members up if not we wouldn't get a single content on certain ships- AT ALL.
Curating ships by the company is an affirmative action and a way to guarantee equitable distribution else that's when they get accused of playing favoritism. That's when certain ships state complaining the company is hiding their ship content blah blah blah BORING.
And I think Jimin lowkey is aware of this so sometimes he tries. He tries to make time. Sit apart from Jungkook. Interact with other members lest they start complaining they've missed him etc.
When Jikook are "forced apart" most times they are on board with it- JM is. Jungkook don't give a fuck. No need to draw unnecessary attention to them or have people asking unnecessary questions like why yall two always together, why don't you hang out with this person or that person also.
Like how recently JM said he was gonna come fo a live with V and suddenly everyone is like do one with JK too, Suga too- then he's like I'll bring everybody. Jungkook would up said straight up he's gone what he's gone do.
Any way. You are right.
Jimin have always looked up to Suga within the group because he respects the man Suga is at his core. Suga gives sound advice and he's been a constant source of inspiration and encouragement- Jimin I really blessed.
Yoonmin isn't Vmin and so we don't expect the same level of vulnerability and intimacy that's the signature of Vmin in Yoonmin. That would be like comparing apples and oranges.
But there is a vulnerability to them in the way Suga being a senior takes care of this younger one. Or even in the way Jimin brings himself to take his nurturing and his advice.
Jimin is irreplaceable. He has the best voice among the singers or so Yoongi believes. And that's just the thing with them, Suga believes in the potential of Jimin just as Jimin believes in the potential of Jungkook. In a way those two ships can be very similar if you want to take the bangtan hyung/dongsaeng relationship dynamics as an equation.
I'd say Suga is the best hyung in the group in terms of his relationship with the younger ones and Jimin will come second to him- seen in his relationship with Jungkook. And if you want to take his relationship with the hyungs into consideration too💀
Hobi is great too but I don't see him mentoring the boys the way Suga or Namjoon does. Yet he is best at nurturing them and catering to their emotional needs. However you are not about to catch him taking anyone out to the bar to bond as per ethnic male culture or masculine traditions.
Suga gives off Rafiki vibes if you know what I mean
Its giving spiritual guide and sage to Jimin.
He's had profound influence on Jimin's self confidence than people give him credit for. He's always the one telling Jimin, go for it, you can do it, nevermind what people will say, don't be shy, there's nothing embarrassing about this. You are beautiful, your voice is unique, believe in yourself, I will always believe in you.
He affirms JM which is one of the purest ways to express love for another.
You know that nevermind tattoo is on his ribs for a reason.
Suga is wise but also very ambitious and a go getter.
That's something I see in Jimin also. But he needs a bit of a push sometimes and Suga and Namjoon are very good at spurring him on.
They are adorable.
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Hello again!
Sorry for being in here so much! I wanted to ask your opinion on something about Lewis and his interactions with people he is interviewed by or who he meets for the first time. What i mean is, when Lewis met Takashi Murkami and he described him as a nugget of love or something of those words or when the Mercedes E Sports boys met Lewis and Marcel said meeting Lewis is like an experience you can’t put into words (again im not sure of his exact words) what do you think it is about Lewis that makes people feel that way? Because no offence, i don’t often see anyone else being spoken about in this manner, so I wonder what it is about Lewis that has people feeling this way. And in your opinion, why do you think, despite this, people still want to call his character into question and imply or blatantly say he is the opposite of what so many other people have said he is?
I also would like to ask, what are a couple of things about Lewis that you appreciate?
Have a good day!
hey you! sorry for getting to this so late. i needed a breather. yes!!! people's reaction to meeting him is my absolute favorite thing. the way murakami has described him is a masterpiece in itself. it's so overwhelmingly priceless. he must be magic, this guy <3
well i've never met him so it wouldn't be right for me to try and guess the feeling or vouch for any of these experiences. at least not without bringing out my inner parasocial crazies. but in my opinion, aside from the obvious personality and aura, he's highly intuitive and excellent at reading energies around him and more often than not he reflects them back, probably drawing people in. he's super respectful and attentive when they're engaging him which must be refreshing. also he never ever does what's expected of him—including expectations based on perceptions, media reports or hearsay that always paint him a certain way. it probably surprises them the most i guess?
i appreciate and love a whole lotta things about him but let me try and stick to the topic and context here. i love that he is compassionate and often tries to show it through actions. he will ask interviewers about their day or lives, in a curious yet respectful way. will try to make them feel comfortable by being calm and soft-spoken. will try to make time for fans and not just through sheer obligation. i like that he's intentional with every single thing he does in public eye. it comes from hard learned lessons i'm sure and must take a whole team of people to make it work so well. but i love it, especially when you know the level of unnecessary scrutiny he faces.
i love the fact that he's not perfect. don't think i'd be a fan if he was. as someone learning to live with maladaptive perfectionism i take solace sometimes knowing it's okay to be less than perfect and it's okay to learn and improve, it's okay to keep striving in ways that might never reach perfection. you're allowed to be wrong and you can always be/do better the next time. i love it when he's spontaneous, lets out normal human emotions and passionate reactions. i love that he's one petty mf if and when he decides to be. love that he's always curious and ready to learn. he's not afraid of expressing himself, being himself (anymore), i really admire that. he could have easily gotten jaded by now with the amount of success as well as negativity but instead he's elevated himself beyond both and has nurtured his heart to be the best version of himself and enjoy the journey he's on.
but, one thing that i love the most about him is how easy he makes everything look. if there's one thing about him it's that he is going to make everything look effortless—hard work, driving, winning, success, fashion, attitude, reaction to criticism & hate, and most of all living (and living rent free in so many heads). it's probably what pisses some people off too. must need heaps of discipline, focus and strength to achieve it. but he does it anyway and you have to appreciate that.
#anonymous#can't tell you how much that empty space above read more is pissing me off rn but i'll try to ignore 🥲#and sorry again<3
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Communicating With Dragons
While I’ve already written something on making contact with dragons, it’s come to my attention that I had a bit of a narrow focus on actual methods of communication or receiving messages. That would be largely due to how I primarily interact with them. But to be honest, there are several ways that you can communicate with dragons.
Psychic: this is the most talked about, and can take various forms. Telepathy is the most iconic of these, whether your communication takes the form of words or images. You may also get feelings from dragons, little mental ‘nudges’, or feel like you just ‘know’. I get all of these, particularly the ‘nudges’ and ‘knowing’ with occasional mental conversation and rare unexpected flashes of images or full short movies. I guess I would include ‘automatic writing/drawing’ here, as a form of channeling; sometimes when I get an urge to draw or create other dragon artwork, I’m picking up on a dragon that’s around at the time. Not always the case as inspiration comes from a lot of non-spiritual places as well, but a good example. Meditation as most people are familiar with isn’t actually necessary for any of these; any activity that is repetitive and distracts you from physical focus can be a good time for these types of communications to come through. Just uh... don’t trance out while driving. You’ll feel stupid if you get so fixated on communication that you’re oblivious to what the nudgings are about and end up getting sideswiped on Halloween. (A pox on people who don’t heed stop signs.)
Divination: Another popular method for spirit communication, this works just as well with dragons. Tarot, pendulum, whatever you’re comfortable with, it’s easy enough to invite dragons to talk to you through them. I find this to be useful if I’m not having a good brain day and my usual communication methods are muddy.
Signs/’Synchronicities’: I hate using such a loaded term, but asking for signs from dragons to relay or give answers for certain questions has been effective in my experience. There was a time in my life where ‘synchronicities’ happened a lot more often than they realistically should have, and that was a time of a lot of spiritual self-exploration and growth, largely relating to dragons. They happen a lot less now, and don’t always involve dragons, but when they do, it tends to catch my attention.
Mind, a lot of communication is subtle, and you should absolutely ask yourself “is this something that has a normal explanation?”. If it feels like a message, it may very well be, but there’s nothing wrong with keeping your boots on the ground. Keep note of occurrences, big and small, so you can examine them later.
Also keep in mind this is not a definitive list, and if you have a different way of communicating with the dragons you work with that’s not covered here, then cool! You found something that works for you.
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