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hunnylagoon · 3 months

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Right Where You Left Me

Pt 4: The Sweetest Thing to Ever Scare You (Finale)

Ellie Williams x reader

I remember when I first saw you. I remember looking into your warm almond eyes and feeling butterflies in my stomach. But soon, when I looked into your eyes, I no longer felt the same warmth that I once knew. It felt as though you had killed all of the butterflies inside my stomach but yet, I still loved you.

Premise: You and Ellie are childhood best friends until you drift apart. Funny thing about soulmates is they tend to find their way back to each other. You and Ellie try to end the tireless war between you.

Warnings: Angst / drinking / violence / not really religious mentions in this one

Part one here!

Part two here!

Part three over here!

Guys I thought I posted this two days ago but I actually just saved it to drafts. Sorry for being an idiot lmao

I think that I have unlearned how to love.

That’s not even a word but there is no other way to tell you that I have turned myself cold.

Without partying to distract me and religion to fill in gaps of emptiness, I isolate myself and begin to write once again. I'm almost certain that my body has been telling me to write, that I need to pour myself into art as opposed to a girl I was friends with a million years ago.

I figure that I need to create rather than destroy but it might take me a while to do so.

The morning after I abandoned my faith on the church floor, I had woken up and expected Ellie to be gone, however, she was wide awake and playing subway surfers on her phone. Her hair is messy and her eyes are half-lidded.

She turns to look at me when she feels the shuffling of the bedsheets; despite her doing nothing more than smile at me it is like an understanding passed between us, war is over.

Almost.

It's like I've forgotten how to be soft, I can't manage to get the words out that I need to, and the thought of it alone makes me cringe. "Breakfast?" I ask, unsure of what else to say.

Ellie passes on it and I awkwardly excuse myself, saying that I got called in to take a brunch shift at work. Of course, this is not true. What I do is get into my car and drive and drive until I get mad at myself for burning gas.

The war between Ellie and I had ended but it didn't register in my head, I almost fell in love with it. Without the constant arguing and passive aggressiveness, there was nothing to put a wall between us and I wasn't ready to be vulnerable again.

So I begin to feed Ellie the ugliest parts of me; I show her everything I'm sure she will hate but she doesn't, she's patient and shows me the kindness I have been looking everywhere for. Still, I am cold to her, I don't know what else to do.

I try to push her away all over again but this time, she doesn't let me. Ellie comes into my room when I'm studying to sit on my bed so that she can be in proximity to me. Sometimes she'll ask me if I want to go for a walk or a late-night gas station run, all of the things we used to do.

When I'm angry at her, she lets it happen, she won't escalate the fight all she does is apologize and does what she can to fix it. Everything feels like it's in order again, Joel even starts to send me little text messages to check in on me and sends me Facebook memes that make him think of me.

As of now, we are setting up for Dina's twenty-first birthday. The living room, typically a space for casual gatherings and movie nights, had undergone a transformation. Vibrant streamers adorned the walls, and an array of balloons in assorted hues scattered themselves along the floor "Are balloons too childish?" Abby asks as she walks out of her bedroom.

"They better not be after I just spent half an hour doing all of these," Cat answers, giving her a scornful glare.

"They look great, Cat," I smile and give her a thumbs-up from where I am in the kitchen dumping bags of chips into bowls. "Should I make a veggie platter?"

Cat furrows her eyebrows "If you can finish it by yourself, sure."

"Cat, we aren't children, adults eat vegetables," Abby takes a seat on the couch behind Cat, investigating the hard work she's put into making the living room look nice for just one night "Isn't it weird that Dina is organizing her own surprise party?"

I shrug, placing a wooden cutting board down on the kitchen counter "I don't blame her, I don't think we've always been one hundred percent reliable, me specifically."

"But it's not a surprise if she knows about it."

"So?" Cat asks.

"So why are we calling it a surprise party if it isn't a surprise?"

"Why not?"

"Well, why can't we just call it a party?"

"I don't think it matters," I cut in, I begin to peel carrots and slice them up into quarters. Ellie comes out of her bedroom, she took a nap after completing her physics presentation, her hair in a messy bun, and she's in her typical pyjama uniform of sweats and a hoodie. "Hey, Ellie," I smile at her.

She rubs some sleep away from her green eyes "Hey," Ellie walks over to the kitchen island where I slice and chop vegetables and sits right in front of me. Even half asleep she looks like a statue of marble carved by a skilled hand.

Abby raises an eyebrow, asking 'When did you guys become friends?' without saying it and then it hits me like the plane in Lost. Ellie still hasn't told anyone about our history, our sixteen years of friendship is invisible to the eyes of those who think they know us well.

I'm broken from my thoughts when Abby speaks up "When are you picking up the cake?"

My heart drops "I'm not?"

Cat and Abby cast one another side glances while Ellie snatches a cucumber off my cutting board "Dina was handing out duties and you said you would take care of the cake."

I freeze, unsure of what to say "Nuh-uh." I shake my head like a child denying blame for breaking her mother's favourite dish.

"Yuh-huh," Cat shoots back. "How could you forget that?"

My mind fumbles for an excuse and somehow I land on "I forgot because I went temporarily insane from Lyme disease," What am I saying? "I got Lyme disease because I go camping in secret," I don't camp "And I never told you guys that I go camping because I'm deeply ashamed of it."

Now everyone looks perpetually confused, Ellie included "What are you talking about?" Abby asks, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay-well," I place my knife flat on the counter by the wooden cutting board, ignoring the odd spiel I just went on "I'm going to drive to-

"You dropped your car off for a suspension repair yesterday," Abby reminds me.

"Ellie is going to drive me to get a cake," I correct myself "I will be back to finish making my veggie plate." I quickly rinse my hands before grabbing Ellie's keys from the little jewelry dish on the island and yank the sleeve of her hoodie to pull her along.

Ellie doesn't say anything, she slips into some Crocs and we walk outside to her car. "Where are we headed?"

"Uh, hang on," In Ellie's passenger seat, I go on Google Maps to look up the closest bakeries that are still open at this hour, there are two, one a couple of streets away and the other one is across town and closing in twenty minutes. "Infectious Confections," I wrinkle my nose "That's a weird fucking name."

While Ellie tries to make conversation in the car I only speak when giving her directions to the bakery. She knows something is up and I can tell by the way she keeps glancing at me. I just can't manage to get it out of my head that she's still keeping me a secret.

She pulls up to the bakery and I get out before she even turns her car off, she pulls the keys out of the ignition and trails behind me through the doors.

The bakery itself was rustic and clean, there were two display cases and tills one of the displays held danishes, croissants, cookies, scones and whatever those little swirly flakey things are called. The other display had a big chalk menu above it that read 'Cakery' Though what was in the display case was very sparse.

"Hi," I walk up to the till, putting on the friendly smile and customer service voice that I usually only use at work. "This is pretty short notice but I was wondering if you had any cakes left or if I could get one made for today?"

The guy behind the counter is a scrawny teenager who looks like he has had a long enough day of dealing with annoying customers "We close in half an hour, there's not enough time to bake and decorate a cake." He explains it like he's said this to a million people, he's bored of the same phrases that his manager has scripted out for him.

"Any shot that someone didn't pick up their cake?" I ask, fingers crossed in the hope that he says yes.

"Let me talk to my manager," His voice drags on, and he turns around and disappears through a commercial kitchen door. I wait patiently, hands balled together in front of me as I rock back and forth on my heels. A minute or two later he comes back holding a bright blue cake with pink detailing of bows and mustaches, there's text on it that reads 'It's a...' gender reveal cake. "This is all we have left, they cancelled last minute.

I look back at Ellie to get her opinion, her eyebrows are furrowed slightly "Maybe we good just get some of those cupcakes and smush them together and smear the icing so it looks like a cake."

I wave her off "I'll buy it," I say this only because it is 5:41 and with each passing minute I am growing desperate, also I don't want Jesse to be disappointed that I fumbled the cake and ruined his girlfriend's birthday.

Angsty teenager puts the bright blue monstrosity into a cake box and charges me an absurd total for it, I bitterly tap my card on the machine.

As I walk back out to Ellie's car I take a brief moment to look at the sky, it's the same hue as cotton candy and looks as if it had been projected from a watercolour painting, even after I get back into the car and Ellie begins to blast her old dad rock songs, I can't tear my eyes away from it.

After five minutes of silence from my end, Ellie finally asks the question that's been burning into the forefront of her brain "Why are you being weird?"

"Why haven't you told anyone that we met before we moved in together?"

Her dark eyebrows furrow "You haven't told anyone either-

"Yes, I have."

"Who?"

"Yara, Stacy, Kayla, Mitch, Nigel, Carmen, literally everyone from my work," I admit "I just haven't told people who know you personally so it can't make its way back to you because you clearly don't want people to know."

She falls silent, searching her mind for the right words. She clutches the steering wheel tight and looks dead ahead at the car's bumper-to-bumper ahead of us. "I just know how to slip it into conversation."

"I don't think it's that hard, you can just say that we were friends, you don't need to give an intricate play-by-play of everything that happened."

"Why is it important that people know if we're cool again?"

I turn my head to slowly look at her "You are the one who always said 'If we don't have honesty, we have nothing at all'," I point out.

Silence strings between us again, I almost want to throw up.

'We're cool again' Nope, not anymore, we are so very far from cool. Instead of Ellie casting me little glances as she had on the ride there, she ignores my presence almost completely while I glare daggers at her. Was she embarrassed by me? When we went to lunch together why did she lie to Dina about where she was? When she slept in my bed why did Cat ask me if I knew why Ellie came home at eight AM with nothing, not even a key? Did she crawl through my bedroom window to walk around to the front door and pretend she was just getting home?

AND WHY DIDN'T I CALL HER OUT?

She was keeping me a secret and that realization hurt worse than any injury I had ever suffered. She hasn't even told her dead who practically raised me that we lived together.

God, we weren't even anything and she was keeping me under wraps like I was some disgraceful secret that she would get shamed for holding. The very second she approached our house, I got out of her car, she hadn't even stopped it completely but cake in hand, I hopped out of her car door and didn't look back.

I think I've had my fair share of partying.

After that month-long bender I had where I went to clubs every night and replaced food with vodka, I never wanted to even look at another solo cup full of liquor. Instead of drinking, smoking, or doing karaoke, I hide from Ellie.

I hide from her in conversations and sometimes sneak into my bedroom just to get a bit of breathing room from all of the strangers in my house. Wherever Ellie was, I was not. If she was outside, I was inside, if she was in the living room, I was in the kitchen enjoying my veggie platter.

Have you ever been the only sober person around in a group of people? If the answer is no, have you ever babysat a houseful of toddlers? Because it's just about the same thing.

When I'm not hiding from the girl who wriggled her way back into my good graces just to trip herself off the podium, I'm cleaning up, protecting our furniture, holding back hair as girls I've never met sob into the toilet, and stopping the drunk from doing stupid things.

"Hey, buddy," I take my can of hairspray that this frat-adjacent man is holding behind an ignited lighter "I don't think you would look good as a burn victim," His friends moan in disappointment as I do so, they were very excited to see a makeshift flamethrower; I wasn't in the mood to have my house burn down, or have a guy with peach fuzz waste my thirty dollar hair spray.

Thirty dollars?

Note to self for later: Make smarter spending choices (And smarter relationship choices!).

I felt a tap on my shoulder only to turn around and see Dina, she wasn't drunk, just tipsy "Smile!" She holds up a camera to her eye and clicks the shudder button before I even have a chance to react the flash goes off. A large Polaroid begins to print out, Dina snatches it and shakes it until you can see my silhouette, my eyes are wide, my hair flying behind me from the quick turn of my head and I'm holding a can of hairspray angled to look like I'm going to spray the camera with it "Cute!" She smiles, tucking it into her pocket for later "Wait, I want a group picture of the roommates."

Dina takes my hand and pulls me to one of the couches where Ellie and Abby sit with some guy, she shoes him to get up and drags Cat over to replace him, she stands me in between Ellie and Abby and lightly pushes me down to sit wedged between the two.

"Jesse, please do not do me dirty with this picture," She hands the pink Polaroid camera to her boyfriend and quickly ushers herself to the far left of the couch where she bends over to kiss Cat on the cheek for the picture. Ellie and I are stiff and awkward when the flash goes off.

After the picture is taken, Ellue turns to face me just the slightest "Hey, I think we should talk-

"I think it's time for cake!" I push myself off the couch and usher myself to the kitchen.

I pull the cake out of the fridge, looking at what I had done to salvage it; Below the part that said 'It's a...' I wrote '21 year old!' in chocolate pre-made Betty Crocker icing that I had in the fridge for months, it didn't look the best, but it could've been worse.

Dina, of course, cackles when she sees it. To her, it is the funniest thing she's seen all night. I stick the candles in and light it with the light I confiscated from peach fuzz frat boy and push the cake towards Dina after tucking the light back into my pocket, she is illuminated in the glow of iPhone flash all filming her.

"Make a wish!"

Age Sixteen- Grade 11

I think back to how embarrassing it felt to be thoughtful.

How fragile I felt when I would share my feelings and how frail I seem when I do it now. Ellie was always tougher than I was, in rugby, in fights, just in general. That's why I figured she would be taking it better than me when I cut contact, once again I have been proven wrong.

"Conner, can we please just leave?" I pleaded with my then-boyfriend. The night had started fine but after a couple of drinks Ellie and I were becoming increasingly hostile to one another, it wasn't my intention to speak to her but the universe forced my hand when we were shoved into a circle of our friends and made to converse around the bonfire at the beach.

The salty breeze carried the sounds of laughter and the gentle crashing of waves, the scent of roasted marshmallows wafted through the air.

"What, you need your boyfriend's permission or something?" Ellie held a can of berry blast Smirnoff, staring into my soul from the other side of the fire, the sparks glitter through the night like fireflies. Her words don't feel too bad but they don't feel too good either.

I cast her a glare before I looked back to my boyfriend "Please?"

He is getting perpetually annoyed with me he shrugs away from my grasp, "Fuck off, we just got here," He mutters, Conner must think I couldn't hear it. He had already downed three Bud lights and a couple of shots of cheap vodka, now he is nursing another beer in hand.

"Excuse me?" I say, narrowing my eyes. Everyone around the fire pauses their conversation to tune into mine. "Come on," I stand up and try to pull him along so we can have a conversation away from the prying eyes of our friends.

I can't pull the mass of the 6'2 quarterback along with me but he obliges and follows me where I yank him. As I drag him along the rest of the group giggle and makes jokes along the lines of 'Trouble in paradise' but Ellie is the only one who doesn't jump back into mindless conversation, her unnerving eyes are still on me while I chew my boyfriend out by the shoreline.

"Why do I have to leave just because you're feeling a little bummed out?"

I'm almost floored at out someone can lack so much empathy "Because you're my boyfriend?" I can feel myself tensing up.

"Why does that mean you can't get up and leave on your own?" He defends "You begged me to come here and now I just wanna down a couple of beers and hang out with my friends."

"You've already drank like twenty!" I retort.

"It's a fucking party!" Conner says, raising his voice "It's a party and it's summer and you're seriously trying to tell me not to have fun?"

"Fuck!" I shout in frustration "Why don't you ever call me? Why can't you ever let me in?" The argument is quickly escalating "Why didn't you tell me that you kissed Tamar and why haven't you told me that you love me?"

"Because I don't."

My words fail me. I knew he didn't, I knew that he hardly even liked me. My dad had thought so highly of him, she said he was the type of guy to rescue a baby from a burning building but as I look at him now, I figure that he eats babies.

I almost open my mouth to say something different, almost, but I don't. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I didn't, I might've been able to salvage the rotting corpse of my relationship with Ellie but I didn't. "Fine," I say, voice calm and quiet "Let's stay."

Before that night I had never really gotten drunk but the second I got back to the bonfire, I was digging through the cooler and shotgunning canned Smirnoff. "Woah," Riley laughs "Someone's finally being a bad influence."

I got myself so shit-faced that when everyone else got up to dance to the music blaring through the Bluetooth speaker, I sat by myself at the shoreline, looking bitterly out towards to ocean while the tides crash at my feet and get sucked back into the ocean. For a moment I think about jumping in and letting my lax body get washed away and sink beneath the surface until I wash up as a water-bloated corpse that some nine-year-old will find when they're beach combing.

My mouth tastes like peroxide and blood, my lungs burn with a red-hot pain. The wind is becoming increasingly harsh and I ignore the hair that is tangled into my golden hoop earrings.

"Wow, you look awful," I don't need to turn around to know who it is.

"Can you just fuck off?" I say "I don't give a shit about you, just leave me alone."

She always had to antagonize me, Ellie went out of her way to stray from the group and bother me. It had something to do with the alcohol in her system. Despite her alleged hatred for me, she takes a seat next to me regardless.

"Fuck, you're so sensitive," She scoffs "I don't know why you're dating him, I'm not even sure why you'd want to fuck him unless you're too lazy to jerk off-

My hands think before my head and I deck Ellie right in the side of her face, getting a solid hit to her cheekbone. My hand flies over my mouth "I'm sorry, I-

Ellie doesn't waste any time in lunging back at me, she pushes me down by my shoulders until my back is in the shallow of the water that moments ago just splashed at my feet and takes a swing. The impact of her punch almost knocks me sober.

I take a sharp inhale, grabbing her elbows and pulling her down to where she was the one on her back and I was the one straddling her. I land one last blow to her nose, I hear a crunch and the panic immediately sends me scrambling to my feet. My eyes go wide at the blood dripping down, her face I turn to run but Ellie is faster, she grabs me by my hair and yanks me down further into the water with her.

"Fucking cunt!" I cry, though my scream is drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud tides crashing on the shore "Get the fuck off me!"

Ellie is better at fighting than I am, I had never been on this side of her before, usually, I had been the one to drag her away from fights but now I am the one who is going to stumble home numb from the devastating pain.

Frankly, I'm fucking scared.

She continues to drag me by my hair until I'm knee-deep in the water with her, she almost throws her entire weight into me, dunking me beneath the surface where her bony hands snake around my neck. My eyes have gone blurry with the salt water, they sting and burn. I can't see anything, all I can do is uselessly thrash beneath her. My hands push against her face, trying to pry her off my body.

Eventually, I manage to claw her face with my fingernails, I dig deep enough that it breaks skin and she recoils just enough for me to knee her in the stomach and let me get out from under her. Just as I try to slip away she reaches for my hair again, but instead of tugging on my hair, she rips out my gold hoop earring. I screech out in agony, hand reaching for where the metal sliced through the lobe of my ear, I shudder in pain; my cries are now jagged and harsh.

This is the exact moment Ellie begins to regret what she's done. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." Her tone softens and she tries to approach me but I back away from her like a frightened dog.

"Get away from me!" Despite the pain surging in my body, I find the strength in me to hit her again, she staggers back tripping into the water. I hit her so hard that I feel a crack in my knuckle and I yelp out in the immediate shock of pain.

I wasn't sure when the others had noticed this was happening probably because my vision had gone blurry from salt water and adrenaline but before Ellie could hit me again, she was being restrained by Riley and Kennedy while some guy who I had probably had two conversations with dragged my back to shore.

I keel over on my hands and knees and begin to start retching onto the sand. Laila rubs a gentle hand on my back, my hair sticking wet on my forehead. A seagull, disturbed by the commotion, took flight, its wings cutting through the charged air.

Next to the pile of vomit I just heaved, blood drips down from my ear, pooling and then soaking into the sand. My neck swells from what is still the raw sensation of Ellie closing her hands around it.

I look up at Ellie, there is blood that has dripped its way into her mouth, clinging to her white teeth. She has what almost looks like a cat scratch running down her cheek, blood begins to prick and spill from the lacerations.

She stares back at me and we don't say a word but we understand each other clearly, I never want to see you again.

"Let's go," Ellie grabs my arm as Dina begins to slice the cake "We're gonna fix this right now."

"Ellie, there are so many people here," I say in a hushed tone so people can't hear me.

"I don't mean here," She looks at me, face expressionless "Just get in my car."

"Excuse me?" I say, tone accusing "Did you just order me to get in your car?"

"Fuck," She sighs, dropping my wrist to rub her hands down her face "Please can you get in my car so we can work this through."

"There's nothing to work through," I retort "You're embarrassed by me or you still secretly hate me and that's fine, I meant what I said on winter break about the lease, the second it's up, I'm getting the fuck out of here."

"What? No, don't- just," She takes a breath, reevaluating what to say "I have a point to make but I can't make it unless you get in my car."

We stare at each other for a moment, I narrow my eyes and she is still unmoving. Every scenario runs through my head of what could be waiting for me in that car.

"Fine."

I sit silently in her passenger seat, my knees are pulled into my chest and I rest my chin on them. Ellie doesn't say anything either as she drives. I watch each traffic light pass me, every street name to try and make sense of where we are going.

I almost feel like I'm going to suffocate beneath the silence of everything going left unsaid.

When I spot the boardwalk up ahead, I know exactly where she's taking me "Ellie, why are we at the beach?" I give her a side glance "Do I need to take out my earrings?"

Heat rises to her cheeks when I say this, "Not yet," She jokes, getting out of her car and grabbing a tote bag from the back seat, and I follow in tow.

We walk past the boardwalk and onto the sandy beach, I'm already not feeling whatever she's doing; there is sand filling up my Converse and a slight wind chill, I'm really wishing I had a hoodie right now. "Can you tell me what we're doing yet?" I'm hugging myself in an attempt to stay warm "If we're still walking on the beach why couldn't we have just walked on the boardwalk instead? It literally has walk in the name." I'm already going off on one of my tangents.

She still walking ahead of me but she briefly turns around to face me "Can you just stop asking questions for a minute?"

"Okay, whatever," I mutter, trailing behind her still. I can hardly see in the night, the only light to guide us is the moon and the warm ceiling lamps from restaurants along the boardwalk. I can vaguely see Ellie's silhouette, she's outlined by the gentle glow radiating off the moon, I try my best not to stumble over things poking out of the sand that have been lost to sight by darkness.

"Okay," Ellie stops, "Here we are."

"Where are we?" I ask "I can't see shit, I don't know where here is."

Ellie digs around in her pocket for her phone and turns on a flashlight and it reveals a small iron firepit that was cemented into a slab of concrete in the sand. She hands me her phone so I can keep the flash on her and she can see what she's doing.

She pulls out some pages ripped out from her notebook "Can you hand me your lighter?"

My eyebrows furrowed, and I felt around in my pocket wondering if I even had one. I did, it had slipped my mind that I still had the bic lighter that I confiscated from Peach Fuzz. I hand the lighter to her and watch as she tucks the pages beneath logs that were in the firepit before we arrive, they are somewhat charred but still viable.

She flicks the lighter to ignite it and the paper catches immediately. The initial flicker grew into a tentative blaze, licking at the edges of the kindling. The crackling sound echoed through the night.

Once she is sure the fire can survive without her feeding it, she steps away. "Alright, let's have it out."

"Like sex?" I scrunch up my nose.

"Oh my god, no, like let's talk this through." She pinches her nose bridge, taking a breath in before exhaling and putting her hand back down "We're gonna recreate the night of the bonfire how it should've been," Ellie reached back into her bag and pulled out two white claws "I snagged these from Dina's party, sorry this was kind of last minute."

I can't help the smile that grows on my face, I take one of the white claws and crack it open "I don't know how authentic this is gonna be if there isn't any canned Smirnoff."

I think back to exactly how that night played out and I take a seat on the sand, facing the crashing dark ocean. I sip my white claw, as expected Ellie takes a seat next to me, just what happened on the actual night.

"Wow," She says "You look really pretty and I'm an idiot for ever saying you looked awful," Ellie looks gorgeous illuminated by the orange light of the fire, and the breeze causes her flyaway hairs to drift in the wind. "I'm an asshole for pretending that I didn't know you, I was scared I would get hurt again and take it to heart like I did last time. I promise the second we get home that I'll come clean."

I don't know if I can deal with this sugary philosophy. She's being so sweet that it's rotting my teeth.

"Ellie," I say gathering my thoughts, it was so hard being honest with my feelings, it felt like I would get hospitalized if I showed any emotion. "I was so in love with you in high school that it killed me, and I was terrified that my parents would throw me out well, they did- but that's why I pushed you away and there isn't a day that goes by where I don't regret it."

The surprise on her face morphs into a soft smile "What about now?" she asks "Do you still love me?"

I shrug, it's honest "I dunno, but I think there's room to try."

She looks from me to the ocean and the way the moonlight glitters off the surface "What happened next?" Ellie toys with the tab of her drink "Did you hit me?"

"Yeah," I say softly, following her gaze out to the waters "But if we're doing the night how it should've been, I'd rather just kiss you."

Ellie turns her head back to look at me. She shoves her white claw into the sand then takes my face into one of her hands and kisses me like it's her job, so tender and carefully like she's afraid I will break beneath pressure.

How weak have I become? My heart is so full of her that I can hardly call it my own.

A/N: Be grateful for this ending because I was very tempted to give you guys an unhappy one. Sorry that I forgot to post this lol, I’m sad this series is over but excited to show you all my next one which may be the angst-iest yet 👀

Thanks for reading!

Tag list: @elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliesaesp @melanie-watermelon @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @skylerwhitwyo @lmaoo-spiderman @joliettes @kittnii @taylorgracies @sameenatruther @mikellie @belles-hell @fullmachinegirl @eveshyper @whosmica

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fire-lizard-ro · 10 months

Text

Dragon Dan Heng

warning: mention of COCK ovi, knotting, other non-human anatomy things????, biting and marking, rut/heat cycles, dacryphilia, egregious amounts of cum (I think that's how you use that word), dumbification, oral, tongue in throat (a lil choking), belly bulge, breeding, top character, rambling author

Reader's gender is not specified and I dodged around mention of genitalia I think.

SFW: So so so- As I said before, this man activates my fucking neurons. The two braincells I have bouncing around in my head suddenly rub together to create a single thought. That single thought is about how hot he is??? Literally he doesn't have to do anything and he already has rizz 100. Would. Very much would.

But like real talk this danger noodle doesn't really change much when finally unlocks his new skin (lmfao don't pitchfork me I was kiDDING-)

Still seemingly calm (almost) all the time. Still mostly silent (at least when compared with people like March 7th). But if you're with him, then I think that there are subtle changes. When you're together, he doesn't just hover within your space. He'll be sitting next to you and that pretty tail of his will curl around you- maybe around your waist or just laid behind you and curled to lay across your lap. Doesn't admit it but he likes it when you pet his tail. :D

Scent marking!!! Any time you come back from somewhere after being gone for a bit or he does, he needs to scent mark you. Rubbing his neck along yours and purring (in my head dragons can purr fight me) while he smells the way your scent mingles with his (and the way that he covers up others' scents with his but he won't admit it). When you two are napping together and he cuddles with you, his tail will also wrap around you. Makes trying to get up to pee or even to start your day a bit hard. If you try to, he'll grumble and growl at you groggily without any real annoyance. Nips at your ear for waking him up before pulling you closer. His face gets a little hot when you laugh at his behavior.

NSFW:

So,,,, There are so many ways this can go. I oscillate between different head canons about his cock just on its own- Like does he have two? Is it/are they ribbed??? Is there knotting involved? E G G S ? All of the above???????? Honestly I'd take any and all of it or whatever combo it might be. I also believe in internal cock pouch thing supremacy. No I don't know what it's called but it is my reliGION PLEASE- Like y'all can't tell me it's not enticing. I am 100% a degenerate, but imagine him getting aroused and like you can see the way the slit of his pouch is a bit slick. The way he'd moan and grip the bedding with a white knuckled grip when you make your way down his body to mouth at it, tongue darting out to lick at it. Imagine licking into it to feel the tip of his cock (cocks??????) before gently sliding a finger in to feel around it/them. At some point you add more fingers to help your tongue coax your prize out of the sheath (thank god I remembered that word) and you get to feel the way his slick cock slowly fills your mouth even as your fingers work around it in the slit of said sheath. You'd have him choking on his own breath and twitching with his tail laying across your shoulders to wrap around your waist. Please bring his legs up on your shoulders and wrap your arms around them and hold down his hips. Something about it gets to him. :)))

I could always talk about bottom dragon Dan Heng if y'all want, but I will be sharing my brainrot about top Dan Heng today. (No it's totally not because of my preferences what are you talking about-)

Just like with Gepard, I stand by my idea that slipping a pretty plug in these men is a need not a want. Just that extra stimulation that will make him cum even more when he gets there.

I can see him being soft with you unless he's in rut. Yes I'm basic I like rut cycles fhisejo- When he's in rut, his nails are more like claws and his teeth are sharper. Maybe longer, too. Bet he has a big dick already but it's only bigger in rut. Really got that breeder cock, lol. Still has enough coherency to prep you by sliding his long tongue inside you. He can't use those fingers of his when they're tipped with claws, after all. Doesn't wanna hurt his baby. :((

He'll kiss around your hole before licking around the entrance to tease you, rubbing at your erogenous spots while he does so. Then he'll lick into you, thrusting his tongue in like it's a cock. Little by little he'll pry you open with his tongue until you're all sloppy and you swear his tongue is in your belly. All the while, he's been humping himself into the bed beneath him, desperately wishing it was you he was rocking into instead.

Once it's finally time to take you, I like to think that he'd flip you onto your stomach with your hips in the air and a hand pressing between your shoulderblades to keep your chest pinned to the bed. Slides his slick cock over your twitching hole before notching it on the rim of your entrance and slowly rutting into you. The fullness has you rolling your eyes back and whining while he coos at you how you're doing so well for him and you only have a little bit more you can take it-

Once he's fully seated, hips flush with your ass and cock twitching inside you, he'll bring a hand around to your belly to feel the bulge he made there. Presses on it a little to hear you squeak and watch you squirm beneath him. Starts a slow pace to make sure you're used to his stretching you open. But be warned- The moment he's sure that you are adjusted, he's pounding into you with panting breaths and barely contained drool. His teeth ache with the need to mark you up- Bite into your flesh to leave marks that would claim you as his. His hands are anchored to your hips in a tight grip that you're sure will be leaving bruises along with the claw marks. His girth and ribbed texture to his cock have you moaning and clawing at the bed. Loves watching the way his dick just disappears inside you; the stretch of your hole around him.

Once he finally spills his cum inside of you after several orgasms from you, it's hot and thick and there's just so much of it. He's moaning and growling behind you while he thrusts a few more times as it starts spurting out of him, all of them rough and hard thrusts. But then his hips are pressed so hard to yours that you wonder if you'll ever be able to remove them. He just needs to empty himself as deep into you as possible. We're going with the knotting idea today so the swelling knot you've slowly felt beginning to stretch you out and then knocking against your entrance has now been shoved inside of you, locking you two together and pressing relentlessly against sensitive spots inside of you. The pulsing you feel through the knot and his whole cock is not helping and it's making you squeeze around him so hard so your body can milk all of his cum from him. You swear all the cum is making the bump in your belly bigger after he's done pouring it all inside of you.

When he's in rut he just doesn't stop going. So maybe hours later, you have cum all over your thighs and there's so much dripping out of your well used hole that you're questioning where the hell it all came from. You smell so much like him and his cum and there's so much inside you that it sates some possessive part of his rut brain. Regardless of whether he can or can't breed you due to your or his biology (I'm not actually sure what goes on with Vidyadhara procreation or if they can even do that anymore iofsj-), the rut brain is telling him that he can and seeing your belly distended a bit with how much cum he fucked into you is soothing his dragon hind brain, lmfao. You're likely unable to form any thoughts at all when you two are done. You feel like you can't possibly cum anymore and even small amounts of stimulation have you whimpering and writhing. You have bite marks all over your neck and hips- Maybe even a few on your ass, lol. Inner thighs for sure, too. He might lick away your tears before kissing you. :'''''''''))

Both out and in rut, he's always sure to give aftercare. Cuddles is a big part of this. Purring and other rumbling sounds as he envelopes you in an embrace that once again includes his tail curling around you protectively. Likes to sleep with his knot still in you, cock still pulsing as his cum continues to fill you. Maybe he likes to rub at your belly where that bulge is. Tells you about how good you did- Such a good mate for him. His precious mate.

P.S. I like the idea so I think he'd maybe also shove his tongue down your throat while fucking you. And I mean that more literally than you think. I mean it is long- The way you choke on it while kissing him with tears welling in your eyes does something to him. The filthy slide of it as if fucking your throat with it and all the drool swapping from his mouth to yours and vice versa.

If there are any typos then my apologies big dawg LMFAO.

There's so much space in my brain taken up by this man alone.

Considering starting to do requests and asks. I guess lemme know if people want that?????

#hsr smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng smut #top character #gn reader #I THINK???#HELP???#I am very unconfident yall pls-#Roro writes #dragon dan heng

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i-love-soc-a-very-normal-amount · 2 months

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Reasons to read Six of Crows

1. Actually good representation

- all the crows have ptsd of some sort that actually affect their actions

- religion also affects their actions (eg. Inej with her saints and unwilling to kill, Matthias with djel)

- Jesper and inej are darker skinned

- wylan is gay and jesper and Nina are bi

- wylan has dyslexia that he's really ashamed of because of his father(and when he told Kaz he(Kaz) literally just shrugged!!)

- Kaz is physically disabled (his leg) and needs to use a cane

2. Nina is canonically thick and curvy but is still described as beautiful and badass

3. Again with Nina

- she does eat more than the other crows and they don't judge her for it

- when she starts to eat less bc of parem her friends panic and try to get her to eat more

- and when she starts eating again they're so fucking happy

4. All the crows have their own horrible backstory and yet none of them have ever been in a toxic relationship

5. The boundaries that characters set are actually respected (eg. Kaz with his gloves and no-touch rule)

6. It's so funny ("My ghost won't associate with your ghost", "I'm going to get someone to burn my kruge for me / you could pay someone to pay someone to burn your kruge / I'll pay someone to pay someone to pay someone to burn my kruge / you know what the really big bosses do? They pay someone to pay someone...", "MAYBE I LIKED YOUR STUPID FACE" among other examples)

7. There are such impactful and beautiful quotes ("I would come for you", "I have been made to protect you" etc)

9. To elaborate with the 'horrible backstory' thing

- Inej is a victim of sex trafficking

- Wylan was nearly murdered by his father's men for not being able to read

- Matthias was brainwashed from a young age to hate Grisha

- Nina (and other Grisha) were kidnapped and abused by Matthias and his fellow drüskelle

- Jesper's mum died when he was 7 years old

- Kaz's dad died when Kaz was 9 and left him and his older brother (Jordie) to sell the farm and go to Ketterdam. Jordie died from a plague a short time later and Kaz had to use Jordie's dead, plague-ridden body to swim to shore after being mistaken as dead and loaded onto the Reapers' Barge along with Jordie and then find a way to survive with no money and no family to go to

#its just an amazing story in general #it changed my life for the better #that may be a bit of an exaggeration but who cares #ill add to this when i remember other bits #six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #soc #ck #gv #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #inej ghafa #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #idkwhattoputhere123

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ohtobeleah · 3 months

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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Ten: [The Potato Head Society & The Other Guy, Jarred?]

Summary: Jake helps you shave your head in hopes of keeping your power and control. Facing your own mortality makes you question your faith in a higher authority and Jensen and Jake met for the first, and what you hope, will be the last time.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion

Word Count: 4.2K

Author Note: It's no secret I've been having a little bit of a rough go on this hell-site as of late. But I'm still here, working on this series. Seeing your weblogs, comments and concepts truly mean the world to me. so please, don't be hesitant to share.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“My only real advice for this kind of thing is this.” Jensen sighed as he stood on the steps of his townhouse with you. Coffee in one hand, end of life brochure in the other. Things had taken a rather drastic turn for him in the last few days. After your birthday, his health started to drastically diminish–so much so that his doctors weren’t too sure how much time there was left to combat the cancerous cells spreading through his body. “Go right through it.” Jensen smiled, never once did you ever see his positivity falter. “Like right through it, feel it all, be in it, don't avoid it because the moment you start avoiding it is when it's truly won.”

Little Sammy held your hand as you stood next to Jensen–he was too young to understand that the man talking to you was dying, hell, you weren't even sure if you understood the significance of the pamphlet Jensen had picked up after your first CCA meeting. He’d told you it was for a friend, little did you know that friend was standing right in front of you.

The Cancer Counseling Association held biweekly meetings at the hospital. You hadn’t planned on attending when your oncologist, Doctor Morrison, had first mentioned it. But when Jensen said he’d been going almost religiously for three years? You thought, what's the harm?

The harm was it was depressing as fuck.

“You go completely in the tough times, feel everything and get out the other end of it all.” You’d asked Jensen something along the lines of how he’d managed to keep fighting all this time and still be so positive about life and all its underwhelming rewards. He was for the most part, a happy guy despite it all. But even the strongest of soldiers have an achilles heel.

Jensens just so happened to be the fact you were forbidden fruit, he wasn't about to tread on another man's toes. Especially when he was tiptoeing towards the sweet release of death's gentle hands. None of that stopped his heart from racing whenever you smiled though.

“Many of these things you don't have a choice in.” Jensen continued as his eyes lingered down to little two year old Sammy who stood holding your hand in his. If anything you needed the encouragement to fight this battle for your children. “You know, fuck, whats that expression?” Jensen mulled it over as you chuckled, still standing on the path right outside his street facing townhouse. “Uhh–oh yeah! It's not how well you walked through the fire, but how you walked through it regardless.”

“I think I'm just barely crawling through the flames right now–” You answered honestly. There wasn't a nice way to say he’d looked better than he did right now, with sunken eyes and skin that looked as if all the life had been drained from his soul.

So you never mentioned it.

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“So—“ The library wasn’t Jake Seresins favourite place to go, but there was someone who made the isles of hard covered literature easier to understand that always seemed to draw him in. Like a moth to a flame. “Did you have a good Christmas?” The silence that followed as you stared across the desk where you were processing returned textbooks had Jake's heart racing, he couldn’t read you and that fact made him all the more nervous. “Or not? If you’re Jewish maybe? Don’t celebrate Christmas that’s cool too I just thought—“ You had to giggle at the college football star standing across from the reception desk with his elbows leaning on the ledge. Your smile was pure happiness, it wasn’t hard to make Jake's heart melt inside his chest—a chest he once thought was hollow.

“I had a wonderful Christmas, I went home to visit my mum, she always says that if the Christians can steal Christmas from the pagans then us non-religious folk can celebrate too.” You shrugged your shoulders politely as you kept checking off the returned textbooks from students who’d taken them home over the summer.

“What do you mean when you say the Christians stole Christmas?” Jake Seresin grew up in an incredibly conservative, extremely religious household that attended church every Sunday rain hail or shine. Jake swore his mother nearly spontaneously combusted when he had to stay in hospital overnight after having his appendix removed. It was a Saturday afternoon when they’d presented to the emergency room—poor old Janeen nearly dropped dead at the mere thought of her ten year old missing church the next morning.

“Lord have mercy upon us, for we have sinned.” Jake could still remember his mother crying vividly when he woke after surgery. Even at ten he knew his mother was somewhat of an overly sensitive soul.

“Well technically, in order to convert the Germanic pagans who, like, celebrated the winter solstice and stuff—the Christians were like, fuck it, let’s just say that Jesus was born on this day and you can hang tinsel and stuff.” Again, you shrugged your shoulders like it was common knowledge, but as Jake stared down at you with confusion swirling in his emerald eyes, you thought for a split second that maybe this was actually news to the college athlete who’d been following you around for the better half of nine months. Respectfully.

“You can’t just change someone’s birthday like that? Can you?” Jake, in all his years of attending Sunday services, Sunday Schools, being forced to read the bible and knowing far too much about parting seas and burning bushes, he’d never once been told that Christmas was just a day.

“It’s kinda like how King James was rewriting the bible on one side of the castle and had witches trying to turn his pee into gold on the other.” Jake was speechless as you looked up at him from your chair, your eyes seemingly swirling with knowledge beyond your years. It made sense that you worked in the library on campus.

“How the hell do you know all this?” Jake asked through a sheepish smile he couldn’t hide, your intelligence intimated him in the best of ways. You made him want to do better, be better, strive for more in life. It wasn’t that Jake wasn’t smart, he was. But next to you? It was an unparalleled excellence.

“I uh—I tend to read a lot.” Jake caught the way you faded into yourself, never one to want to outshine others. “Just get lost in here sometimes, books are sometimes easier to understand than people.” Jake could sympathise with that sentiment, he knew what it was like to feel like everyone was watching, judging a book by its cover so to speak. Everyone knew him as the meathead footballer who’s weekends were spent racking up the body count.

But with you? Jake just felt like Jake. Because that’s who he was to you. Simply and forever Jake.

“Do you like, not believe in God or something Miss Y/l/n?” Jake asked cautiously. He didn’t want to offend you or come across as rude or anything—he was simply asking a question he thought he may need to know if he was ever going to introduce you to his mother.

“I find it hard to believe in a world full of stories about Gods and Goddesses from a plethora of different perspectives that there can only be one, if one exists they all have to right? Harmoniously and complacent with the way the universe has fallen to shit without their divine intervention.” Jake had to take a moment to take what you had just said in. He was almost rendered speechless, but not quite. Not Jake Seresin.

“Damn Honeybee, you’re fucking fearless aren’t you?“ Jake couldn’t help but to smirk as he tried to keep his voice down. “You’re just raw doggin’ life with no religious affiliations.” It was then your turn to laugh.

“Guess I am. What about you? Do you believe in a God? An all mighty man, or woman, that sits in the clouds and judges your every action?” You asked with a teasing smirk as Jake bit his bottom lip, mulling over your question:

Did he believe in God?

“My mother would probably prefer if I said yes, but, the more I look at life without the rose coloured glasses I tend to think perhaps the big guy in the sky is all just some story.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Did you know hair holds memories.” The sound of buzzing clippers echoed off the walls of the bathroom as you sat before the mirror. Jake stood behind you with those big emerald eyes you loved so dearly, looking at you with a sympathetic look of understanding and support. “In some cultures people don't even cut their hair because it would upset the gods.” Jake could see the tears in your eyes as you looked at him through the mirror, understandably rambling to somewhat buy yourself some more time. “Medusa's hair was alive, there's certain styles linked to different cultures and full hair cutting ceremonies in–” If Jake didn't interrupt now you would have gone on forever. You had a habit of information dropping in situations where nervousness got the better of you. Not that Jake ever minded, he just knew if he didn't get ahead of it, you wouldn't stop. That would ultimately lead to you sitting in silence when the information swirling around inside her head had all been said. Panic would begin to rise inside your chest, the air would soon get thin, the room would suddenly get a little hotter and before you could even realise you'd be in the midst of a full blown panic attack.

The last time Jake witnessed such a thing was when Sam had colic.

“Honey–” Jake cooed as he turned off the clippers he held in his hand, only to place them down on the countertop to rest his hands on your shoulders. “Noone is forcing you to do this, if you don’t wanna cut your hair we don't have to.”

“No–” You sighed. “No, I want to do this, it's just a lot.” You tried to explain. “It's probably one of the only things I still have control over.” Jake understood, it would be hard not to. After all, he wasn't heartless. If he could Jake would have taken this all away, he would have given anything, including his own life to take your pain away. “I just hope I don't have a weird shaped head.”

“I'm sure you have a really nice scalp dear.” Jake chuckled as he massaged your shoulder tenderly. “And look, if you want my professional opinion, I think you’ll make an awesome live action Mrs. Potato Head.”

“Jacob!” You tried to hide your smile as you felt your cheek heating with a hume so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “You’re cruel!”

“But I made you laugh.” Jake countered through a shit eating grin, that signature Seresin smile you loved so much. The very one all three of your children had inherited from their father. “That's all that matters, now–let me work my magic alright, I've got you.”

“You’re probably a worse hairdresser than you were a husband–” It was a low ball, but Jake took it like a champ as he reached out for the clippers. The buzzing was almost immediate as he used the pad of his thumbs to complete the electrical circuit. With the tool now in full gear, Jake chuckled as he looked at you with fake shock and horror casted across his face.

“Oh now who's being cruel huh?” Jake watched as your eyes followed his hand that held the clippers. “Technically we’re still married Honey, you still have my last name.” He mumbled under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear, seemingly trying to keep your attention on what he was saying rather than the clippers approaching your head.

But–you moved:

“Should we cut my hair with scissors first?”

“Y/n–” Jake sighed as he once again turned off the clippers and placed them back down on the side of the sink.

“No no no I'm not trying to stall, I just don't want you to accidentally scalp me when my hair gets caught up in the shaver.” Jake saw your point, for the hair you did have left it was pretty thick and full of life still. He held the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Not in frustration towards you, but in defiance of his new quest.

“I'll go ask the nurses station for some scissors.”

“Thankyou–” Was all you managed to say back before Jake stepped out of the bathroom attached to your hospital room. The Christmas lights still flickered in the dimly lit room, seemingly consuming the entire room in bright blues, greens, reds and yellows. Even in sickness you couldn't help but to lean into the christmas cheers.

It hit Jake in that moment as he rounded out of your hospital room that he should get you something small to open when you wake up from surgery. The hospital has a gift shop right? Perhaps some flowers and a small gift you could keep with you during chemo. Maybe a book or a– *Thud*

Caught up in his own train of thought as he made his way to the nurses station, Jake ran straight into someone coming out of the elevator. There were two very distinct things Jake noticed as he came back into the reality around him. Those distinct things being that the man he’d run into was carrying not only flowers, but a small gift. Huh, uncanny.

“Sorry man, my bad.” The man apologised almost immediately after the mild impact.

“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” Jake responded with a polite smile his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” Jake reached out to shake the guy's hand, in retrospect he should have kept walking. Jake really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions.

The most paranoid fantasy Jake could think of would never have prepared him for the name that the man spoke next as he took Jake's hand in his.

“Jensen–”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Okay, I'm ready.” Neither Jake nor Jensen knew if you had mentioned either one in conversation, so, respectfully, both men chose to play the fool. Neither one really wanted to ask. Neither Jake nor Jensen wanted to be the one to open that can of worms.

When Jake returned with the borrowed scissors in his grasp–he acted as if he hadn’t just met the man he assumed was the very Jensen in your contacts.

“Last chance Honeybee–” Jake cooed as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Are you positive?” He asked with a smile so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “I’m all in with you, just say the word and we do whatever you wanna do.”

There was a momentary pause in the conversation. Jake's questions lingered in the air around you, it was hard not to get caught in the moment, get lost in the emerald eyes looking at you through the mirror. Jake stared you down as you shifted in your chair to look at him. He saw no hesitation in your eyes as Jake followed your gaze, searching for any sign or signal that could indicate that the next few moments were about to be a mistake.

“Honey—“ Jake tried to heed the warning lights flashing before his very eyes as you closed the gap between the two of you. Jake stood leaning over your right shoulder, looking longingly at your lips. “Don’t do anything stupid now.”

“Loving you is stupidity—“ Was all you said before you let your lips softly connect with your husband’s. Jake kissed you back with enough love in his heart to knock the wind right out of your lungs. The fleeting moment was broken, however, when Jake pulled away. The idea of another man kissing you on his mind, what was this guy's deal? Jackson? Jason?

“Come on Mrs Potato Head, hand me those scissors—“ Jake chuckled, hiding his own insecurities about the man he’d unintentionally met in the hall. You took a second to keep up, but as you licked your lips to savour the taste of Jake's signature vanilla chapstick, you nodded and handed him the scissors.

“I’m ready.” You sighed, once again looking back at your own reflection. “Let’s get this over with.” Change is an inevitable part of life, but that fact didn't make the current circumstances any easy to process. “Do you think that there's gonna be a place for me despite my inability to believe in a higher being?” Jake understood what you were saying, but he didn't have the answers. “I'm starting to wonder more about if there could ever be a life after death.”

Clumps of hair in small sections fell to the tiled floor around you as Jake worked his hands through your hair. Cutting strands from your head like the local mower man cut grass. It felt like such a mundane task to complete, like this was an everyday run of the mill, average experience. But for you? This was a hard and confronting pill to have to swallow.

“I’ve spent my whole life not believing in religion, so who am I supposed to pray to to keep me alive Jake?” Jake saw the tears in your eyes as he cut your hair with caution and steady hands, he heard the small but audible sobs that escaped your lips as he switched from the scissors to the clippers. The buzzing all but silenced your cries but Jake knew this was hard on you. The tears that stained your cheeks clearly reflected your sadness, anger and the inner turmoil that had been engulfing your entire existence since your diagnosis.

“You don’t pray to anyone Honey, you’re stronger than this cancer could ever be.” Again, no one ever sits you down and prepares you for this. No one gives you the heads up about the possibility of one day having to shave your wife's hair off in the name of dignity and control. But as Jake ran the shavers across your scalp, leaving nothing but a small layer of fuzz in their wake, he saw just how much sorrow and pain was swirling in your eyes.

Jake thought to himself in that very moment: ‘I've been needing a haircut for a while now anyway.’

With one quick motion and in the blink of an eye, Jake was running the shavers right down the middle of his head. You really had to take a second to process what he’d just done, what your husband had just done right behind you.

“Jake!” The shrill that escaped your mouth was something unmatched to any emotion you had ever expressed before. “What are you doing?” The image of Jake shaving his head in solidarity would forever be burnt into your mind.

“You said it yourself–hair holds memories and we can make new ones together.” Jake cooed as he shaved off those golden boy locks you loved to run your fingers through. He suited the buzz cut a little more than you did if you were being perfectly honest.

With teary eyes and puffy cheeks you stood on weak legs. The simple gesture of a haircut meant the world to you, Jake knew that. He didn't want you going through this alone. If shaving his head with you brought you a sense of solace? He was more than happy to.

“Looks good–” You smiled as tears ran down your cheeks. Jake reached out to cup your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with the pads on his thumbs. “Mr. Potato head.”

“Consider us the founders of the Potato Head Society.” Jake chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. In order to cherish you the way you deserved, Jake had to be the bigger man here. He knew that a cloud of uncertainty loomed in the halls, one by the name of Jackson or fucking Jeremy for all Jake cared. But as he stood in the bathroom with you, surrounded in the locks of hair that had once been on your head, he knew damn well at the end of the day it was still his last name you chose to take. “Good thing you don't have an odd shaped head after all, it kinda suits you.”

“Would you still love me if I did?” You asked quietly, giving Jake an excuse to confess his love. Jake's lips were soon pressed softly and ever so tenderly against your once again in the blink of an eye as gentle hands still worked to soothe your stained cheeks.

It wasn’t a hard question to answer, nor an easy question to ask—but as Jake pulled away to rest his forehead on yours as he ran the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, you knew it was an easy concept to understand:

“I’ve never, and I will never, stop loving you Honey.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

For as much as Jensen hated all things hospital related, over his past few years of treatment, he’d come to know these halls better than he knew the back of his own hand.

From countless radiation treatments, to endless chemotherapy sessions. Hours upon hours of remedial therapies and acupuncture sessions to stimulate nerve endings, Jensen was a man who was just about ready to pull the plug and live out the remaining few months he had, or less, from the comfort of his back deck.

He’d been poked and prodded, sliced and diced, far too many times to count on both his hands and for what? A few extra months tacked on top of a few years spent battling pancreatic cancer. No thankyou. Jensen had always had an optimistic outlook on life, until his life started to become the same bland halls and the same bland rooms, with the same bland doctors and nurses who all shared the same look of medical sympathy.

Jesen, for all intents and purposes, was ready to give up his signature status of being the resistant ‘pin cushion’. The student nurses could learn how to change cannula sights on the lady, Paola, who sat in the same chair for every chemotherapy session.

The last few days hadnt been too hot for the six foot one, brown eyed, brown haired (allegedly) man. His prognosis had been diminishing ever since he got the news his treatment was no longer as effective as it once had been.

The day Jensen was told he only had a few short months to live before his organs would begin to fail, even with treatment, was the same day he saw you crying outside the local doctors office. The Hermitage centre as they called it.

The last thing Jensen ever wanted was for his life to be meaningless, before he knew what he was doing? His feet were padding against the concrete as the psalm of his hands began to sweat inside his jean pockets.

“You look like you’ve just been told you’re dying?” As the elevator counted up the floors of which Jensen had to take from the ground floor of the Rhode Island Hospital to the oncology unit, he could vividly remember asking you that question. He recognised the look on your face because not ten minutes prior he;d been told the very same thing.

“I'd start to get your affairs in order, Mr. Hughs “ It hadn't been just a regular check up with his local general practitioner. But it had been the almost final nail in a long awaited coffin.

As the elevator dinged, Jensen took a few steps out into the bustling hallways of the oncology ward. Within seconds, he was met with a force so muscular it damn near knocked him back a few paces. But the cancer ridden ex fireman squared his shoulders and kept easy on his feet.

“Sorry man, my bad.” Jensen almost immediately apologies after the mild impact. He assumed that it was him that had caused the slight collision. His special awareness was pretty shot these days. The flowers he carried were almost crushed on impact, however he managed to save the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies.

“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” The man responded with a polite smile Jensen could only assume his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” like a slow motion car wreck, Jake reached out to shake Jensens hand. In retrospect he should have kept walking. Jensen really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions.

The most paranoid fantasy Jensen could think of would never have prepared him for the look of utter betrayal that smeared itself across the blonde headed aviators face as Jensen shook your husbands hand:

“Jensen–”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #jake seresin x female!reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #tgm cast #tgm imagine #jake seresin angst #jake hangman x reader #top gun maverick

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sorcerous-caress · 5 months

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How do you think the party would react if Tav was a Fallen Aasimar? I sure it hinges on the God's aliment. What if it was a God they worship?

Reacting to a fallen aasimar Tav

[Bg3, fluff, nb!reader]

[Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Halsin, Astarion, Gale, Minthara, Laezel]

You used to serve a god they worship/worshipped. I took some liberties with the godless characters.

Shadowheart - Selune

Assuming it happens either after the game ends or in an alternative universe where Shadowheart never abandoned Selune. Then she'd be very conflicted.

What could you have possibly done to have the most gentle of goddesses stripping your wings? Moonlight melting your silvery feathers until they're nothing but abyssal black and ash.

Her lady is wise, therefore she will be very wary of you. Yet at the same time, she can't help but feel a sense of familiarity when she looks at you. It drives away her prejudice for a moment and lets her judge you for your action, no matter how blasphemous the act of questioning her goddess's judgment might be.

Wyll - Tyr

To fall from celeste is to become a fiend. How are you any better than the devils below in the hells?

If he was his younger self, he wouldn't have hesitated to deliver you to justice, and yet the horns on his own head weight heavy like a crown paid for in a lifetime of experience. He knows better than anyone that nothing is ever what it seems like.

This Wyll is wiser, more understanding and open. He's willing to extend the same courtesy to you that he wished someone would've done to him before.

Let him hear you out, friend. Tell him what befelled this fate upon you.

Karlach - Tymora

She is more confused about how you managed to anger the smiling lady herself. It takes a special kind of asshole to turn their back on good fortune and lady luck.

An aasimar at that too? A messenger of luck?

She's never been big on the whole religion thing, to be honest with you, yet the wamrth and good fortune her goddess extended to her is still one of the best gifts she has ever been given.

So what happened? How did this even happen?

She'd never be hostile towards you nor exlude you as long as you don't do anything sinister. She genuinely belives in sharing her good fortune with everyone no matter who.

Halsin - Silvanus

Oak father preserve him. To Halsin, seeing you brings as much joy to him as seeing the shadow curse spread.

His God's teachings aren't that hard to follow, just respect the natural order and preserve all living beings. He has been diligently upholding this code through his life and spreading the teachings back at the grove.

Yet, the oak father himself marked you as an endangerment to the very being of nature. To the ancient trees and sprouting spring flowers, you reprsent the slithering all-consuming wither and rot.

He is very uncomfortable around you, not just on his guard, but you can see that he would rather be anywhere else than near you. Yet, feels like he had to keep an eye on you just in case you burn down a forest or something behind his back.

Astarion - Corellon

Honestly, he doesn't even remember worshipping the old elf or anything. He just assumes it given his previous stature and ancestry.

Not that the self-proclaimed protector of all elves has ever given him a single second of his time since he became an undead. No matter how much he prayed, it seems that the blood running through his veins barely counted anymore when it wasn't his own blood to begin with.

Fuck him, along all the other gods who turned their back on him for 200 hundred years of pure shit. It's a good thing you fell, he tells you, at least now your powers are yours alone. What's a god if not just another master to get you to do their biddings?

He is interested in you, mostly in your powers, to be more precise.

But it also encourages you to seek your own path and never think of grovelling for forgiveness or your feathers back.

Gale - Mystra

He makes a lame ass joke about if that makes him your stepfather. Dad puns included.

Surprisingly, he doesn't make a big deal out of it, even if it was before he fully got over his ex.

He's a scholar first and a lover second. He is genuinely very interested in learning about you and aasimars. Meeting one in a lifetime is a miracle. They're so rare that they're barely documented even. So imagine meeting a fallen one? He is beyond intrigued by you and your nature.

Sure, your morality might come into question, but he will worry about that later. For now, he is more interested in inspecting your wings and asking borderline intrusive questions about how serving Mystra was like.

Evil alligned deities.

Aasimars don't have many rules about them in dnd, but for one, they are classified as celestial beings. So technically, they can't ever serve evil alligned gods. It's never officially stated, tho so it is up to interpretation.

Devils or fiends serve the evil deities instead, so i thought why not make the reason the aasmire fell is because they decided to serve the evil god for the character.

In the next headcanons, falling is considered a good thing. Whoever your previous good god was that you used to serve, you abandoned them and went to serve an evil deity instead which is why you fell.

Laezel - Vlaakith

A good choice, a wise choice even. Laezel might not be versed much in the gods pantheon but she is sure whoever your old deity was, they couldn't have compared to her queen.

You have her respect, the same respect she'd extend to a kitherak even. In her eyes, you're the embodiment of the red dragon and rider knight both in one. Your wings and shinning blade speak for themselves.

She is honoured, fascinated too. Yet her admiration is a double edged sword, for she will hold you to impossible standards and consider it meeting the bare minimum.

Minthara - Lolth

She almost pities you, willingly becoming another pawn in this endless chessboard of drow conflict. Another gem to decorate Lolth's whip with as she inflicts it on whoever she sees fit.

Either you're foolishly naive or a complete masochist to dedicate yourself to the spider queen. Either way, she will test you herself to see exactly what you're made of.

As someone who abandoned Lolth, she'd be wary of anyone who serves her goddess. Yet you haven't cut off her head yet, how strange?

Minthara doesn't hide her disdain for Lolth around you, both warning you of the cruel fate awaiting you no matter how much of a good pet you're to your goddess.

For the longer you stay loyal to Lolth, the more of an endangerment you become to Minthara herself.

Shadowheart - Shar

Another child of the darkness, another sibling of the night to guide her through this journey. Shadowheart thinks your meeting was fate, a reward from her dark lady.

Especially if you saved her from the ship, she'd see you as her hero, a shining black diamond amonst the rubble and mud.

Mirroring how Laezel would've acted in fact, their dangerous fickle admiration of you that you never asked for would force a magnifying glass over both your flaws while exaggerating your achievements.

She doesn't hide her Shar worship from you this time around. She is proud, especially by you by her side. She will be your shield and recovery as long as you be her sword and wings.

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octuscle · 6 months

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I went to the Nations of the World party and I drew the UAE. Could you help me get into that culture and be big and sexy for the party?

Everything Arabic is currently incredibly in demand… I don't have much choice anymore… But I think I have just the thing here. Just activate. Activation takes three days, transformation will end automatically on 03 November at 08:00. You should still be able to have some fun after the party.

Monday night… A bit early to activate the costume… The party is more than two weeks away… But you can't wait. Every nine hours now, one of your ancestors from your great-grandparents' generation will become of Arab descent. At first you don't feel anything… You spend the evening as usual in front of the television. Everything is normal… You go to bed earlier than usual. At 22:00 sharp. And at 05:00 the alarm clock rings. Your new routine. Breakfast, jogging to the gym, an hour at the weights, jogging home and then second breakfast, shower and off to the office. You're at your desk even earlier than usual. And fit as seldom. You get plenty of compliments. Colleagues ask you if you were on vacation. Fuck, the costume seems to pay off. At lunchtime you go out for falafel. Your mother grew up bilingual. What the fellows behind the counter speak is everything, but not customer-friendly. You've already learned that much Arabic from your mother… You say goodbye with "'ayuha al'iikhwatu, lays hunak nasihat lihadha alealaji." The two fellows stare at you with open eyes. That was better than tipping them.

In the evening you cook your dinner, prepare your breakfast, eat, read a little bit and go to bed at 22:00. You dream wildly and wake up at 5:00 a.m. drenched in sweat. Hair grows on your chest. On a well-built chest. When you finish your training, you are the son of a Syrian mother and an American father. You grew up bilingual. Fluent in Arabic. And still a Christian. Your father prevailed. Sure, your mother told you a lot about the Koran, but religion doesn't interest you much anyway. Your church is the gym, your communion is the protein shake. In the office, all your colleagues ask you about the situation in the Middle East. How you see it. You were once on vacation in Tunisia. These are your experiences with the Middle East. What do you know about that?

At the end of work at 5:00 p.m. your genetics change. You have more Arabic than European roots. You can see it in your body hair. In your eyes. You notice it because you want to smoke a shisha at the end of the day. Everyone knows you in the café. You all speak Arabic to each other. You are still the infidel Christian. But all those who have not yet sucked your uncut dick don't know that. Ahmad, whom you just fucked in the toilet, for example, knows.

Wednesday morning. Prayer times are always good in the winter. You're done with your workout before you go to sunrise prayer. Training and prayer set the rhythm of your day. It is good that you are your own boss. Importing and exporting various things. Exporting cars to the Middle East. Importing… Well, whatever comes along… All kinds of things… By noon prayer, you've lost your American passport. You are a proud citizen of the UAE. There was once a Swedish great-grandmother. But it doesn't show on your face. And you don't notice it yourself.

After the sunset prayer, the transformation is complete. Purebred Arabian. A true Arabian hot-blooded stallion. You have been in the States for five years now. A good and permissive life here. Your mother should not know about this. But this is sex, drugs and rock'n'roll. You're looking forward to the Halloween party in two weeks. Costume? You don't need a costume. You just show up…

Inspiration found @fitbearcatcher

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #race change #halloween tf

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spacelazarwolf · 9 months

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i had a question about the religion vs tribal post u reblogged earlier. does this mean converts dont have to be particularly religious? or can converts only convert if they want like. the full religious experience (i am wording this very poorly my apologies) like. can someone convert if they want to simply be a jew, and not just because of the religious aspects? idk

the tldr is no, jews by choice don't have to meet any certain level of religious observance to maintain their jewish status post-mikveh. once they've been approved by a beit din and immersed in a mikveh, they are unquestionably jewish.

that being said, i got a little over excited and wrote up a whole thing about the process and legality of jewish conversion so buckle up buttercups.

the process of conversion is long, usually at least one full year, and supervised by a rabbi. the conversion student meets with their sponsoring rabbi throughout the year so the rabbi can monitor their progress and education, assess their motivations and character, offer them guidance and support, and finally to determine when/if they are ready to go before a beit din and complete their conversion. this isn't something the conversion student requests, it's something that can only be approved by their sponsoring rabbi.

the process and expectations, along with what's considered a valid or halachic conversion, differ depending on which community the conversion student is petitioning to join. for example, most orthodox and conservative communities still require circumcision or hatafat dam brit in order for a conversion to be valid while reform and reconstructionist do not. the standards for what it means to commit to living a jewish life will also be different depending on the community. someone who converts with a sephardic rabbi may follow different rabbinic rulings than someone who converted with an ashkenazi rabbi.

once the sponsoring rabbi has determined that the conversion student is genuine and is ready to complete conversion, the conversion student will appear before a beit din which consists of three jews who are educated in jewish law, at least one of whom must be a rabbi. (usually all three are rabbis, but i've been on two beit dins and am definitely not a rabbi.) the beit din then determines if the conversion student is sincere, knowledgeable, and making this decision of their own free will. they may ask the convert some questions to determine their basic knowledge of jewish law, ask the convert to tell them about their journey to judaism and why they want to become jewish, and will very often ask if the convert is fully prepared to join a historically oppressed people. i have been on two beit dins and one question i've asked both times is if they have a support system to help them navigate their new identity and the discrimination they're very likely to face. the crux of the beit din is "do you know what you're getting yourself into?"

if the beit din determines that the convert is not ready, they will turn them away. usually, this means they'll try again in the future, but sometimes the person decides that conversion is not for them. that being said, since the sponsoring rabbi has to determine first if you're ready for the beit din, it's very rare for someone to be turned away at that point. (though my rabbi has some very....odd stories about people who have put on an act for years to convert, only to go on and on about jesus to the beit din. needless to say those people are expeditiously sent away.)

if the answer is yes, the convert will then immerse in a ritual bath called a mikveh. most often people will go to an indoor mikveh, but sometimes converts will opt for a lake, river, ocean, etc. that's deemed acceptable. after they leave the mikveh, they are jewish. they've received their "jewish citizenship" and their status as a member of the jewish people cannot be questioned. (with the caveat that different communities don't always accept conversions from other communities, and there are some that don't accept conversion at all. and of course, just because something is a violation of jewish law doesn't mean people don't still do it. there is still a lot of anti-convert rhetoric within the jewish community that we have to reckon with.)

once someone becomes jewish, it's up to them the kind of life they want to live. if someone underwent an orthodox conversion, it's probably because they wanted to live an orthodox jewish life so it's unlikely they will leave the mikveh and never set foot in a synagogue again, especially considering for orthodox conversion it's generally expected that by the time you go before a beit din you have been living an orthodox jewish life and live in an orthodox jewish community for at least a year. that being said, if they did decide to adjust their observance or find they prefer a different community, or even if they decided they no longer wanted to be observant at all, they would still be jewish according to jewish law. the only time the semantics would change is if they converted to a different religion, in which case most communities would consider them a jewish apostate. if someone converted through a non orthodox community and wanted to join an orthodox jewish community, they would have to undergo an orthodox conversion.

conversion to judaism is compared to naturalization a lot because it's very similar. you go through a process, prove you are ready to be a citizen and are knowledgeable about the country you're petitioning to be a citizen of, then once you gain your citizenship it cannot be revoked, including if you break the law. if you gain your american citizenship under the expectations that you will respect the laws of the land, then run 10 red lights, you're still an american citizen you're just a citizen with 10 traffic tickets. similarly, in my opinion, if you gain your "jewish citizenship" under the expectation that you will follow the laws of the community, then eat a plate of bacon, you're still a jew you're just a jew who has violated halacha. if we wouldn't revoke the jewish status of someone who was born to a jewish family for eating a plate of bacon, i would argue it's similarly inappropriate to try to revoke the jewish status of someone who converted for eating a plate of bacon.

however, there have been instances where a conversion has been retroactively deemed invalid. however, there was, in true jewish fashion, much debate about what could invalidate a conversion. in this essay submitted to and accepted by the rabbinic counsel, the determination was made that if the conversion in question was obtained by deceit and the rabbi and beit din did their due diligence in determining the motives of the conversion student, the conversion can be deemed invalid. if the conversion was obtained by deceit and the rabbi and beit din did not do their due diligence, the conversion remains valid, regardless of the motivations and deceit.

something i see mentioned a lot when it comes to conversion and observance after conversion is the argument that if someone takes on the commandments during their conversion then doesn't follow them, or they are pursuing conversion only to gain and/or weaponize jewish identity, they are deceiving the beit din and therefore their conversion should be invalid. i get the logic, but i also agree with what the above essay has to say. the responsibility lies with the rabbi and beit din to determine the motivations of the convert. the moral failure of deceit can be attributed to the convert, but the legal responsibility still lies with the rabbi and beit din. we can question all day long why someone would want to convert if they aren't going to do x, y, and z, but at the end of the day if a rabbi and beit din have supervised and approved their conversion, it's a done deal. their conversion cannot be revoked by a court of public opinion.

it's something that i think is very difficult to grapple with because i don't think any of us want someone to lie their way into our community. given our history of persecution, i think it's understandable how scary that could be. that being said, conversion is not an issue of morals but of jewish law, so in conclusion of this essay no one asked for, i think that it's not the responsibility of the community at large to determine if someone's conversion is valid or to question they way they live their life. that opens the door to a sort of mob justice that jews by choice already have to deal with constantly. it's the responsibility of the sponsoring rabbi and beit din to determine if the person seeking conversion is a good candidate.

#ask avishai #jewish #jumblr #jewish conversion #JewU

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radgirl-spray · 1 year

Text

Rant.

it always gives me whiplash when gringos call me or other latinas on radblog "Republican" and "nazis".

Because they are so sure they are making such the point about us being nazis and bringing conservative and apocalyptic takes on them because we don't want men in females spaces, and yet from our perspective, they are still thousands of people all across latam who simply dissapeared when the north american goverment decided to interfiere in latam's politics which lead to real, actual genocides based on politic stance. Specifically being leftist.

My country in particular had one of the most brutal dictatorships in latam. Over 40.000 people were killed, tortured or simply dissapeared just to prevent socialism, despite the socialist president at the time being chosen democatrically.

Now, women, mostly college students feminists at the time were systematically tortured. I'm not talking about internet persecution or some horrible missgender crime. I'm talking of whole brigades raping 14 to 21 year old girls. I'm talking of soldiers setting girls on fire. I'm talking about men open pregnant women to dispatch the baby. I'm talking about torture and murder.

Why? because they dared to talk about politics, because they dared to talk about contraceptives. About feminine issues. For being Left.

It was also a time where the wrong opinion could get you killed, could mean your children being killed. For being brown, for being indio, for being poor. Think of you neighbour accusing you of hearing certain music and your house being raded and your teenage children being taken to a camp to never be seen again. I'm not talking 100 years ago. I'm talking my parents and anyone who is 5 years older than me.

To this day we are extremely affraid of police and the military. The levels of poverty Latam has are hardly something people in first world countries have seen in a years, because the poverty itself has been caused for said countries and their progress. I'm talking whole neighbourhoods of houses made of cardboard while some first world country leaves a bunch of chemical wasteland just right up the corner where we live so they live better.

Two years ago there was a breakout in my country, it was quite famous. You know the first thing the police did?

They raped and hanged a girl on the street. In 2021.

And then comes some random USA/Canadian citizen and calls you "a republican" and "a nazi".

Did I mention after II world war many nazis escaped to latam and formed whole german colonies for either experimenting on humans or create pedophile nets and raping centers? the more you know.

But we are nazis, we are republicans. Despite the fact that that our indigenous people recognize women as adult human females, that indigenous women were hunted down and used historically to be bred by whites colonizers just like them. Despite the fact that most of us are mestizos, that color and class go hand in hand in latam, that we have a culture heavily based on religious intakes of what's women's place and that we shut up when the men talk, because that's macho culture. We are nazis and we are republicans, despite the fact that their fucking country killed thousands of us because we wanted to try left and to hope for something more than extreme poverty. Shit, we've even been called colonizer by some chicano who doesn't even speak spanish. I mean, what are the odds.

But the white men need to speak, the gringo has something to say, they need us to respect their pronouns and go along with their progress. So they packed their bullshit religion and ship it right down the frontera, and now we have to swallow too. Because we are latinas, we live in the backyard, right? what do we know about the experiences of american dudes in skirts.

#laurel musings

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horde-princess · 11 months

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Nimona's origin story - or lack of one - is so important to me. like first she lies to you, then there's a weird metaphor that may or may not have anything to do with her, then finally at the very end there's a real flashback which clarifies. almost nothing?? EXCEPT perhaps it leads you away from the possibility that she's being possessed. personally my thinking is that she was born as a "regular" shapeshifter and became this colossal monster after she was "lab-modified." but i can't say that with any confidence, maybe the monster was part of her all along and the trauma just brought it out. maybe nimona herself doesn't know.

as frustrating as it felt to read at times, the ambiguity is the whole point. it's a commentary on how society (specifically christianity) will look at something it doesn't understand and try to stuff it into boxes it just doesn't fit in.

the whole "gloreth's beast" metaphor is so insane to me because it confuses you as the reader and makes you wonder if maybe nimona IS actually this satanic creature, or possessed by him. despite all your good intentions and your fondness for nimona as a character, there's a part of you which wonders if it might be true, because the author himself is implying it to you. it's only at the end that nate hints otherwise but still he leaves it up to the audience to wrestle with their own interpretation of what they've just read. i don't think i figured it out until the part where it says nimona's parents believed a monster had taken the place of their daughter.. i was like oohhhh i see what you did there

i've heard it said that nimona is a commentary on how society views lgbt+ people as a threat and i do think that sums it up nicely but. it's a story about how religion views queer people as a threat, how conservative christians stay in power by labeling us as the enemy, and how they get us to internalize this queerphobia so that we lose the will to rebel against them. it's about how oppressors have no say in how people take their stolen freedom back.

ITS ABOUT bipolar disorder and mental illness!!!! and the prejudice & discrimination & outcasting this community endures, which intersects uniquely with queerphobia and is still used today to characterize being gay and trans as mental disorders, as if that somehow justifies the hatred in their minds.

it's about addressing the fear & confusion surrounding the existence of queer people - "are they born this way? are they possessed by satan? are they mentally ill? are they a product of childhood trauma?" and Nimona is essentially like, sure. all of the above. or none of them. who cares? i'm here and i'm a human being - you don't have to understand me to treat me like one.

idk how/if the nimona movie plans to handle the ambiguity of her origin but its so so important i hope they're able to honor the spirit of it 😭🙏

#im sorry i just did a 2nd read-thru to prepare for the movie in june and i have THINGS to SAY #nimona

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willowhaired · 7 months

Text

Fresh Start

Jeb Pyre × Reader

Summary: After shutting the case of the Lafferty brothers, Jeb finds it difficult to find his place in the church - so much so that he divorces his wife and starts anew in Boulder, Colorado. What he didn't expect was a pretty evidence handler at the Boulder PD.

(Please note that in this story Jeb has no children.)

Word count: 3,381

Warnings: mentions of religion, swearing, a bit steamy but nothing explicit

After shutting the case, Jeb tried his best to re-integrate into his community. To at least "sing the song", even if he no longer believed the words, as his partner suggested - but he was still eyed with suspicion and the forceful kindness of his fellow churchgoers became sickening. He felt as if he was tested, and they pressured him into recanting his beliefs at every opportunity. It was the worst with his wife who got him promising he'd stay faithful to the church whenever she felt uneasy, which was more often than he liked. He could see her mind turn whenever they were in the same room as if he was under constant surveillance. It angered him, but he knew showing it would throw him into a pit even deeper.

Things in the bedroom were terrible. Beca was insistent on conceiving, and he didn't blame her for it. He knew what it meant to her. Still, he was growing tired of having sex - a thing which he'd never thought was possible for a man. Somehow, whatever trick or new lingerie his wife would try just made him desire her even less. Whenever he couldn't perform, he'd blame it on work, but that opened a whole can of worms he didn't want to talk about. Arguments were frequent and even calm days were disturbed at least by a quarrel.

He got out when his mother passed. By then, the tension was palpable, not only in his marriage, but in the church. Eyes were even wider and glued to him - they expected him to turn to his faith in a time of need as such.

But he finally felt free. He divorced his wife, leaving her in shame, and the bishop was quick to retaliate by excommunicating him.

He was finally free.

He moved to Boulder, Colorado, to escape his own home, the cocoon. It was only natural that Taba followed him.

'You could stay, you know?' Jeb said one day as they were having lunch together. He bought fries.

'And be left in the snake pit alone? Not a chance.'

It made Jeb smile. He'd never conceal the amount of relief this gave him. Because he was afraid. As much as he wanted to get out, the newness of the "outside world" scared him. To have his friend by his side on this new journey gave him hope.

They both got a job at the Boulder Police Department and Jeb quickly became a favourite among his superiors and fellow officers. With no family and a pain to drown, he was always first to apply for night shifts, weekends, especially holidays. He poured his all into work.

'You are becoming a bit of a workaholic,' Bill noted on one Christmas Eve. There was a snowstorm outside, unlike anything else he had seen in Utah.

'You are here with me every time,' Jeb pointed out, watching the wind raging outside.

'Yes, but I'm not staying overtime,' his partner adjusted himself in his seat. It was getting to him not being able to smoke because of the crazy weather. 'Besides, you're young. You should find yourself someone.'

'I have you.'

'I'm flattered, but I don't like you like that,' Taba chuckled but was met with the mortified stare of his fellow detective. A lifetime of conditioning is difficult to weed out.

'What I'm saying is,' he started again. 'This is a new town. Maybe there's someone who tickles your fancy.'

Jeb honestly doubted that. He didn't find anyone interesting, and even if he had, he wouldn't be ready to open up.

That was until you came along.

You were the new evidence handler, archiving and organising everything the officers brought along, let it be testimonies or physical evidence. You were young and sweet which didn't sit right with him: he didn't want you to look at all the darkness that was out there in the world. He reckoned you should be protected from it, living in a bubble, not having your delicate features be degraded away by the horrors.

But above all, you were incredibly attractive. He saw other police officers trying to charm you or readily offer their help whenever there was an evidence box that "looked a little too heavy". Even Bill got into a harmless banter with you on occasion - you were easy on the eyes, he said, and Jeb agreed, though not out loud.

He could feel his heart in his throat whenever you passed by, and there was an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach whenever you arrived at work. Looking at you felt like a sin.

It just so happened that the two of you were very similar. Even if it meant staying longer, you'd get all the handwritten notes typed in, each piece of evidence filed away correctly. Before leaving, you cleaned your desk, despite it being a catastrophe the whole day.

It was a Thursday night and the detective was about to leave to check out a crime scene. On his way out, he spotted you, at your desk, still lost in paperwork. He checked the clock and then outside: it was already dark.

'It's getting late,' he announced as he stepped to you.

'Oh, it's alright,' you shrugged. 'Just a few more things to file away.'

He contemplated for a second before turning to a young officer:

'Deputy Jones, when Miss Y/L/N is done with her work could you give her a ride home?'

'That's really not necessary,' you knew you were blushing and you didn't want to cause any trouble to anyone.

''Course, Sir,' Deputy Jones said without hesitation. Jeb nodded to the deputy and left you with an "Evening" and completely confused.

That night, he could not sleep. He worried you might not have been escorted home, or worse, took a liking to the young deputy. He should've taken you home himself.

Even though he was head over heels for you, you got the impression that he did not like you. He was cold, distant and you'd never seen him smile in your presence. When he dropped off any evidence, he seemed as though he was trying to escape the soonest possible.

'Five forged checks and interrogation of two witnesses,' you scanned through the documents on your desk, then flashed a warm smile at him. 'Anything else?'

'No, thank you,' he replied quickly, his mouth more crooked than ever.

You watched him walk to his office. It was a shame, really, upsetting, even. For one, you never gave any reason for him to hate you, and besides… You found him incredibly handsome.

He was eyeing you from his office, sometimes glancing in the direction of Jones, even though it was a few weeks after that incident. Jeb made it a point to avoid you, but couldn't fool his partner.

'I don't blame you for liking her,' he flipped the page in the folder of their current case. 'I would be surprised if you didn't.'

'I've never felt this way,' Jeb admitted nervously. His friend had a smug grin on his face before it turned serious.

'Look, you should make your move soon. Nobody is blind in this department.'

It was this conversation that ultimately pushed him to ask you out. It was a few days later, and all of your colleagues had left already. You were still finishing up some tasks and he tried to do his own, but his nerves wouldn't let him concentrate. Finally, he gave in.

'Are you staying for longer?' Jeb had to swallow for he felt like his throat was going to close up.

'No, I'm packing away for tonight.'

'Do you… Need a ride home?' He asked, then quickly added: 'I can take you.'

'Oh, I… Don't wanna cause you any trouble,' you chuckled nervously and pushed the last folder to its place.

'I insist.'

'Well, okay,' you gave in sheepishly and grabbed your coat.

The drive home was even more awkward, if possible. You tried to strike up a conversation but he hardly replied. He sat stiffly behind the wheel and kept his eyes on the road. He parked just outside your apartment complex.

'You know, Detective Pyre, you don't have to take me home.'

'I just like to know you're safe.'

'Anyway,' you said quickly over the sound of your loud heartbeat. 'Thank you for the ride.'

You were about to step out of the car when he blurted out:

'Can I take you out for dinner sometime?'

You turned back and were muted by surprise.

'You can say no if you don't want to,' he felt as if he was being suffocated by his own tie so he pulled it looser.

'Yes,' you hurried your answer. 'This Saturday?'

'Perfect. Pick you up at 7.'

Friday, he was a mess. If it was possible, he avoided contact with you even more which left you doubting he ever asked you out. The truth was, he didn't know how to react. You made him feel such emotions he was unfamiliar with; was he supposed to just wave at you as he passed by when he felt his insides burning with the heat of a thousand suns?

'Bill, I need your help,' Jeb closed the door of their office behind him. 'I'm taking Y/N on a date tomorrow.'

'Does she know?' His partner teased, but as Jeb replied with such exasperation, he knew this was no time for jokes.

'Of course!'

'So you finally asked her out. What do you need me for?'

'I'm nervous,' he leant to his desk and pulled his hand across his face. 'I can't even look at her.'

Bill glanced out towards you: 'I think she looks pretty, still.'

'Don't do that,' his friend begged defeatedly.

'Jeb,' Bill looked at him. 'Do me a favour and relax. Just be yourself.'

'What if the church thing freaks her out? What if I make a fool of myself?'

'There's no way around it, pal,' he shrugged. 'Sooner or later, she will know. Don't worry, I haven't seen her eat anyone. Try and enjoy it.'

It was easier said than done.

Jeb knew he was done for right as he picked you up on Saturday. You had a black dress on that hugged your body, and your shoulders were bare for you had your hair in a bun. Inside of him was a raging battle between what his former church made him think about your attire and what he felt. He was hoping he could forget about both, and most importantly not mention his past, but it was unavoidable.

'No, I… I have never drunk.'

'You haven't?' You asked in disbelief. 'Surely you were a teenager at some point.'

'Yeah,' he chuckled. 'I grew up in a very strict church. Alcohol was forbidden.'

'So it wasn't the kinda wine tasting that disguised itself as Sunday church, huh?' You joked. 'Are you still part of this church? Should I not drink?'

'No, no,' he shook his head. 'I was excommunicated. I no longer hold those beliefs.'

'So…' you swirled the wine around in your glass. 'Why don't you drink?'

'I guess old habits die hard.'

'Do you want a taste? It's sweet wine. If you like lemonade, you're gonna love this.'

You held your glass towards him and he took you up on your offer. His movements were sheepish, almost fearful as he held the glass to his lips and took a small sip. It really was sugary, with an uncanny resemblance to the way he felt about you: sweet but intoxicating. Throughout the dinner you shared a few glasses, most of which you drank, but he was finally easing up by the alcohol. Jeb felt his stomach warm from the wine; he was more comfortable with his feelings towards you, while also finding it harder to keep them in control. Your eyes seemed even more alluring and your cheeks were tinted red from the alcohol. He found it cute and smiled dumbly at you throughout the whole night; and honestly, with him opening up, you really enjoyed yourself. Not only that, you realised that you did actually like him: he was kind and wholesome and made such intelligent remarks you knew he was listening to your every word. You joked and gently poked his hand and his eyes lit up like a teenage boy's. He tried to (very seriously) pick out the notes of the wine, only to add at the end that it mostly just smelled like alcohol. He accidentally kicked you under the table and you teased him whether you were getting friendly.

You had your fingers crossed that the effects of the wine would stretch into the workdays.

But apparently, you spoke too soon.

'Thank you for the night, Jeb, I really enj…' you could barely open your mouth when he stopped the car at your home, and his lips were on yours. His left hand came up from the gearshift to cup your face as his quick, eager kiss was followed by a deeper one. You leant closer to him and rested your hand on his thigh. You got so lost in the sensations (the scent of his cologne, how his tongue explored your mouth against yours, or how it ran across your lips every once in a while), that you didn't know how much time had passed. Was it minutes or half an hour?

'I'm sorry,' he broke away abruptly. 'I can't do this.'

You couldn't really comprehend his words.

'I… I don't think I'm ready for this,' he followed, seeing your puzzled expression.

'We can take it slower,' you chuckled.

'It's not about that,' his body was turned away from you. 'I can't be with you.'

Honestly, this left you in shock. You don't remember if you said anything or just left the car - the whole thing didn't make sense. He was the one asking you out, the date went well, he came in for a kiss… Which was amazing.

You were confused, and above all, hurt. You thought that there must've been something so wrong with you for him to turn you down like this.

When Jeb told Bill about the date, his friend's first excitement died away as he heard how the night ended.

'What's wrong with you?' Bill asked, almost angrily. 'That date was going great and you chose to close it like a teen girl who hasn't fucked before?'

'Language!' The other hissed.

'That girl likes you. You come to me worried you'd screw up the date but you did it in such a way I would've never imagined.'

'It's not easy, Bill. I was raised to believe everything I've just done is a sin. Even though I no longer think the same, I…' he ran his fingers through his hair. 'Can't help but feel that it's wrong.'

His partner seized him up, sighing out the frustration he felt.

'I guess I understand. You do what you feel comfortable with. But she'd be good for you.'

But would I be good for her - Jeb pondered, staring at the papers in front of him.

That was until an office party: his colleagues pressured him into beer after beer, so he'd already had more than he should've. Then, you arrived - late, but no less beautiful. The cream dress you had on was a lot more modest than the form-fitting one you had on during the date, yet its satin fabric draped on your body perfectly. You looked better than ever, which he never thought was possible: your smile was charming and your eyes twinkled in the decorative lights - though he couldn't help but notice that you carefully avoided his direction.

The other officers were quick to bring you your favourite drink and they'd made it a competition who would make you laugh louder. Hearing your chuckles turned his blood bitter, and he kept shifting between chewing the inside of his mouth and adjusting his lips.

'And you, Detective Pyre? Anyone special?' A fellow officer asked.

'Who? Me?' He said, half-stupefied, then chuckled, his eyes on the table. 'No, no one.'

To be fair, since the failed date, you had been avoiding him just as he did with you. You gave a cryptic description of the date to your friends, and your colleagues knew nothing of the encounter: they merely concluded that Jeb's past hunted him, and that's why he was so uncomfortable in your presence.

Maybe they were closer to the truth than anyone thought.

You accompanied some officers out for a cigarette; you were craving some fresh air and the cold of the night on your cheeks. You borrowed a cigarette from Detective Taba to take the edge off.

'You, dear, look prettier every day,' he took a long drag from his cigarette after lighting yours. 'Is there a gentleman you saw before coming here?'

'Nah,' you smiled sheepishly as if the suggestion itself was ridiculous. 'I was looking after an old relative and my cousin arrived late to take over.'

'Don't act so innocent,' he scorned with a grin and gestured with his cigarette. 'I bet you make every man turn anywhere you walk by.'

He wasn't wrong: you only had to take some letters to the post office to come back with a date for the next day, but lately, all you had on your mind was the kiss from a certain detective. Even at work, especially after seeing him, your thoughts would slip from your grip to morph into his firm grip on your waist or the unmatching tenderness of his lips. You'd mistyped witness names and found that you had catalogued a set of crime scene photographs into the wrong folder. You were incredibly embarrassed, despite the officers only laughing at these mishaps, reassuring you that they happened more often than ever with you.

So, you avoided Jeb's eyes, knowing that their dark brown colour would melt you right on sight.

Even though Bill was nudging him every ten minutes to go up to you, Jeb couldn't bring himself to do it. All night, he had been imagining how your dress would fall from your shoulders if he'd unzipped it and how soft your skin would feel under it - softer than the satin itself, he was sure.

The air of the venue grew heavy with each passing minute. Jeb resolved to peel the stickers from the beers, while you were constantly entertained by at least two of your coworkers. They were all respectful, although sometimes a bit loud. You needed a few moments of peace; so you excused yourself to the bathroom.

Once on your way back, you bumped into him.

'Hey,' you forced a smile.

'How you're doing?'

'Good, good. And you?'

'Pretty wasted,' Jeb admitted with a chuckle and after a brief pause (during which he stared long into your eyes and your legs began to feel like jello), he brushed a few hairs that got stuck in your mouth behind your ear. You got a whiff of his cologne, something you only caught once or twice when he brought evidence bags to your table. It always left you spellbound.

'I'm so sorry about that night.'

'Don't be,' you said. 'It was an amazing date.'

Jeb was only half-there, his thumb brushed the edge of your lip.

'Until the end I suppose,' he said dreamily, as if not even to you.

'Do you like me?' You asked abruptly.

'I'm fucking mad about you.'

His answer threw your head in a spin. You grabbed his tie and pulled him into a kiss which he reciprocated with a groan. His hands quickly found the small of your back from which one ran up into your hair. Unconsciously, he gripped a handful of your locks to pull your head back and give him better access to your lips. You were rendered weak with a wave of emotion but this very same thing reminded you where you were and that any second colleague could appear.

You cupped his face and gently pulled away.

'Maybe this is not the best place…'

'No, it isn't,' he agreed. 'I want to make it up to you. Please, let me take you on another date.'

'I'm free on Sunday.'

'Well, not anymore.'

#jeb pyre x reader #jeb pyre #utboh #under the banner of heaven #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #reader insert #jeb pyre imagine #andrew garfield imagine

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writing-by-mimi · 2 years

Text

One sentence prompts.

Diavolo #3 "Why are you naked?"

Adult content, read at your own risk. Not beta read.

"The young master is in his chambers." Barbatos gave a small bow and began to lead you to his room.

You weren't sure why you were meeting there. It seemed like a very odd choice.

As if he could tell what you were thinking, Barbatos gave a polite smile, "He is running behind today." He opened the door and waited for you to enter, closing the door after himself. The lord would have to speak to you as he finished dressing today, as not to get behind so quickly.

A side door opened and you could hear Diavolos voice carrying, asking the butler where a certain tie went.

At first, it doesn't even register. He is absolutely gorgeous, arms flexing and muscles rippling as he stretches exiting his closet. A laugh leaving him as Barbatos enters what must be the closet to track down the tie in question. It isn't until he steps closer and shoots you a wide smile, asking how you are this morning that you notice.

Diavolo is as bare as the day he was born.

Demons didn't care about naked bodies. They didn't feel shame or embarrassment. Modesty was something only angels and humans believed in.

"Mc, are you feeling alright today?" The Prince gave you a concerned look as he turned to grab his phone from the nightstand. Your eyes wide as dinner plates and darkening cheeks must had been a reminder. "Ah, nakedness." He chuckled.

"Why are you naked?" You blurted it out as you tore your eyes away from Diavolo sinfully perfect body. It just wasn't fair how frigging hot he was.

"It's my bedroom, Mc." He reminded. "I've right to be in whatever state of dress I choose." He moved to sit on a couch in front of a small coffee table. "Plus, I've no indication you truly minded it. Even still." You could hear the smile on his lips. "Now either come sit down and we can talk, or I can continue to yell across the room."

You held your eyes closed and head turned to his bedroom door. How the fuck were you supposed to sit across from him and NOT look? To pretend that the crown Prince wasn't naked and every part of him was just there to look at?!

"Although I do like the idea of having to stand next to you and whisper in a state of complete undress." His warm lips brushed your ear and you couldn't stop the small whimper that left you. "Perhaps I could undress you as well, just to make things fair."

You felt one of your buttons pop open on your uniform and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest.

"I still don't understand humans as much as I would like. Is it religion or something more that makes you all so nervous about your flesh. It is just a vessel. Your souls are safe inside of it." His hand slipped down to grip your ass tightly as his other popped another button.

"Your tie, Mi'lord." Barbatos had entered and hung it casually on the bed post. "I do ask that you stop teasing the human and get ready for the day. At this point, you'll need to reschedule your appointment with Mc if you are to make it to the council meeting on time."

A deep sigh left the Prince as he rested his head on yours. "Seems as if I will have to pick up my line of questioning again sometime." He turned your face up to his, a playful smirk and eyes greeted you as he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. "Run along, Mc, or Barbatos may get the broom and shoo you out. He is determined I keep a solid schedule."

All you could do was awkwardly march to the door and leave.

"Mc is quite adorable when they are flustered, are they not, Barbatos?"

"Perhaps the flustering can happen on a day where you are not so busy."

"Spoil sport." Diavolo smirked as he began to dress for the day.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me! diavolo #obey me diavolo #lord diavolo #diavolo x mc #diavolo x reader #diavolo

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dimepdf · 2 years

Note

can we get some eddie x black! reader, soft, domestic ass smut/fluff🙏🙏 (p.s love your writing!!)

ARE YOU MINE. + EDDIE MUNSON

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? [ ❥ ] synopsis. hi i love your writing sm!! pls could i request an eddie munson fic where the reader loses her virginity to eddie but she struggles a bit bc she was raised super religious so doesn’t really know what she’s doing and feels kinda guilty (kinda angsty/fluffy). pls only write if ur comfortable with this ofc and no worries at all if you don’t! thank you sm 💗 author's note. i felt like i needed to combine these two requests together :) don't forget to join the discord! join here

[ ❥ ] pairing. eddie munson x reader

[ ❥ ] word count. 5k

[ ❥ ] genre and warnings. 18+, black afab reader, established relationship, mentions of religion, first time, corruption kink, tooth rotting fluff, something cute to mend my broken heart, pet names, grinding, vocal Eddie, body worship, cowgirl, age gap (both legal idk how old Eddie is bruh), cuddling, aftercare, domestic vibes

You were used to spending most of your free time watching your boyfriend, Eddie, strumming mindlessly at his guitar.

Eddie sat across his bedroom from you, leaning back against the wall like he was trying to morph himself into the rock posters that were taped to the walls.

His gaze and attention were fully in his own world as his fingers echoed a tune from the plucked strings.

His legs spread as he sat, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth. Even with a gun to your head, the male hummed a tune from a song you couldn't name.

You could call your relationship pretty simple compared to most teenagers your age, both of you being in your senior year of high school (Eddie being a super senior, but you don't bring it up much). You two had been dating since you had heard whispers of the "Hellfire Club" around the school.

Going through your rebellious streak, you had decided to bite the bullet and drop out of bible study for activities that broaden your horizons of newer hobbies. Wanting to do things outside of your parent's constant stern and strict approval

You could still recall your friend’s faces watching you plop down at an open seat at the boy's lunch table. Something about your perfect old prompt self butting into their conversations about the next D&D campaign made Eddie instantly choke on his milk.

It took a lot of harassing Eddie during passing periods and sharp-tongued comebacks to gain the trust of all the members of the Hellfire Club.

You even did some personal study with a list of older campaigns Eddie had scribbled in a notebook during the hours your parents had settled for your bedtime, unaware that you were under the sheets with a flashlight learning how the game worked.

It was fair to say that you were welcomed into the club with open arms after the amount of dedication you had put into wanting to enjoy the game the same way that they did.

Not long after even gaining Eddie’s respect along the way, it only took your entire junior year to make it as obvious as possible that you had a thing for the long-haired asshole who seemed to always enjoy picking an argument with you.

Your parents, on the other hand, were not too fond of his appearance. The moment they found out that you were even dating in the first place, they had to forbid you from ever hanging out, let alone playing the so-called devil-worshiping game.

Your mom lectures you every time she sees traces of him on you. The way you come home flustered, clutching onto your schoolbooks; the cautious glances you would give when she passed by when you were on the phone, whispering how you’d talk to him at school; your flushed, dazed look from just thinking about kissing him.

Your mother snaps at you every time she catches you in that hopelessly romantic trance, her stern voice trying to beat sense into your thick skull.

"So you think that you're all grown up, huh? That you could just go around and do whatever you want and act like a little floozy like you don’t live under my roof?" Your mother's words snap like a stretched rubber band against your skin.

Your mother has a way with words that makes everything she says stick worse than what the bullies would say to you.

Your father never says anything, just sits back and watches with a disappointed frown. You had gotten used to the face, the way that your parents would always look down on you for falling in love.

The lecture would always end with you begging to retreat back into your room, wanting to use your blankets as a shield away from your family as your mother kissed her teeth and berated you when she noticed the fat tears rolling down your cheek, sparing herself from humiliating you any more than she had already done in front of your siblings.

But alas, the more you’ve hung around Eddie, the more rebellious you’ve gotten, sneaking out and telling your parents excuses for why you were coming home later than you should.

They disapproved of you using your old friend group as a cover-up while you were really in the passenger seat of Eddie’s car, swapping spit with the one boy in town that they disapproved of.

You weren't really bothered by the fact that Eddie wasn't really much of a romantic type. You quickly learn that he expressed his affection through his interests and hobbies. Frequently, he would share his favorite music or even perform personal covers of songs that you liked with his band.

His love language was also pushing all of your buttons, seeing how far he could stretch you out before you would just tell him off. He thought something about you losing your cool and getting angry with him to the point where you would just snap at him as very attractive.

You two bickered back and forth more than you kissed or held hands. The arguments were never over anything serious; usually, it was just Eddie wanting to pick a fight with you just for him to give you that sly smirk with his hands grasped at your hips, yanking you into his chest.

Other than him randomly biting into your arm or smacking your thighs as hard as he possibly could, Eddie wasn't much of a touchy guy. You didn't push him too much, not expecting him to be much of a charming prince.

You just loved him for who he was, especially since he was your first actual boyfriend as well as you being his first actual girlfriend.

For Eddie, being in a relationship with you was just like being more flirty with a best friend who he had thought was attractive.

But he looks at you like he was in love like it was his first time opening his eyes. You had gotten used to the smitten look of the riddler all over his face. You'd often catch him staring at you as if staring at you was his favorite pastime.

He loved watching how the sunlight would filter through your dark curls, making them look like they were some sort of halo that framed your face. He loved watching the millions of emotions your face would form.

He loved how your big black eyes and thick eyelashes fluttered when you caught him staring at you.

Eddie had fallen in love with how your cocoa butter-coated skin almost seemed to sparkle with a warm brown glow under the sun, how your full two-toned colored lips would form every word like you had meant everything you had spoken.

Eddie had it so bad for you. It all just happened so fast for him that he couldn't even remember a time that he didn't want to be stuck to you like glue.

Which was why it wasn't really intended for you both to be virgins for this long.

Sure, you two had your fair share of sneaky back seat handjobs and the time you had him bite into your shoulder during his first blowjob because his uncle was in the other room and God knew Eddie couldn't help himself but to sound like a modern-day whore getting his dick stroked by you.

It was also because you had grown up in a household where having sex was pretty taboo.

The more you realized it, the more it sort of settled that you and your parents had a different view of the religion that you believed in.

You didn't understand the whole "wait until marriage" argument considering that your father was twice divorced before he had met your mother.

You just knew that abstinence wasn't just something you wanted to practice, not much of a big deal, but you knew that your parents would lose their heads if they found out that their little girl was planning on being plowed by the town "Satanist" Eddie Munson.

You couldn't talk to anyone about the weird feelings you had or how to handle them. It took you a while to realize that you were just sexually frustrated.

Both of you were kind of emotionally unavailable and too scared to come off as too soft or clingy, even to each other. It was like a battle for dominance. Eddie being as competitive as you were, it was like a game seeing who would be the first to crack.

It was like a battle you had sadly lost due to your extreme teenage hormones.

Watching the strum of Eddie’s fingers against the guitar, a growing hunger festered in the lower part of your body. Something about watching his hands had switched something in you.

“Hey Eds”

“Hm?”

"Do you think we can…have sex?" Your tone was flat as your words sort of mumbled together with the fingernail you were trying to bite off, Eddie’s mind instantly going into restart mode as he paused.

His hands were still hovering over the guitar before blinking. You were watching as his head snapped to peer across the room at you, his brows twitching in anticipation of what you asked as if he had heard it by mistake.

You felt ready, having been dating for almost three years. Your hormones were raging as you wanted nothing more than to go all the way with your boyfriend, and you felt like he was ready too, or so you thought as you flinched, hearing the sharp snap of one of the guitar strings, your eyes widening as you watched Eddie in silent panic.

"Shit, uh, I mean–" As he shot up from his seat, he felt like he had made things awkward. It's not like you had suddenly blurted it out unprompted.

As Eddie hung the guitar upon its mound, he turned towards you, hesitating to speak as he just sighed, taking a seat next to you on his twin-sized bed.

Because you were afraid that the way he was acting would lead to a breakup, you weren't sure what to do with yourself. Your thoughts were going in the worst possible direction.

"Like, right now?" With his eyes squinting, Eddie asked in a more gentle manner while wiping his sweaty hands along the front of his denim jeans.

"Uh, yeah, sure," you nod.

"Oh... okay." was his final reply, as you couldn't help but laugh at how awkward the situation was being played out.

"Okay?" you dragged out, teasing him, reaching to playfully lean into his shoulder, earning one of his many usual eye rolls in response.

"I do want to, you just kind of blurted it out and caught me off guard." Chuckling as your boyfriend's face turned a faint shade of pink and his hands began tensely rubbing his bangs.

"I mean, if you’re, like, ready to, then I'm ready." You nodded at his rambling. Both of you were too embarrassed to notice what was happening, so there was a nervous pause in the air.

You tried not to look completely out of it, your heel tapping repeatedly against the carpeted floors, still biting around the skin of your nails.

"Yeah, okay, cool." you hummed, suddenly Eddie raising his brows at your sudden change of mood from nervous to frantic. A hand gliding over your thigh ripped you from the cloud of worry that stormed over your head.

“What's wrong angel, talk to me.”

"I don’t know, I just don’t want it to be like a huge thing, you know?" You didn’t want it to seem like a big deal, knowing that inside your mind was racing with thoughts about what your parents would think of you if they had found out.

They had already disapproved of Eddie. You could already see the faces of horror on your parent's faces if they ever found out about the sexual thoughts you hadn't even had with him.

"Hey, hey, we don’t have to do it."

"No, no, I do want to. I want you, Eddie." Your hand rested on the curve of his shoulder.

"Really?" As he tangled his fingers between yours, a toothy grin crept across his lips. Your lips curled into a perplexed grin.

"Yeah, I really want to do this with you." You softly chuckled, the tone in the room shifting to much more comfort. You were both suddenly aware of the sound of your breathing and the gulp Eddie took in a nervous state.

The smile he gave you was one that you rarely saw on his face. The one that he would only show when he thought no one was looking; the one that he would only show to the people he was most comfortable with beaming at you.

"Okay, well, uh…thanks?" he murmured, inciting another soft laugh from your lips. Both of you were looking in the direction of the TV that sat in front of the TV. A kissing scene played out in front of the unattended movie.

"So...how about we just take it a bit slow?" His tone shifted to something more seductive, his stare suggestive as you allowed him to take the lead, his face leaning in closer to you.

"How about we, uh, touch first, or do you just tell me what you want? Does that sound good to you?" You glanced down at your lap, watching his fingertips dip into the plush of your thigh, his hand lingering just inches away from where you needed it the most.

"I don't—" your voice trailed off. "I’ve never touched myself before." Eddie’s face lifted in surprise, his eyes lighting up.

"Should I feel weird for finding that really hot?" You giggled at his honest reaction, the low voice in the back of your head spewing out doubts and unnecessary worries in the back of your mind being strung out one by one the more Eddie made an effort to comfort you.

The ones that hurt the most were the thoughts that Eddie was just too good for you, and that your relationship was too perfect to be true.

He would ultimately choose a flawless pale white skinned girl with a better figure or a prettier girl who wasn't compelled by her parents to attend church every weekend, missing out on every band performance he would have.

You knew it wasn't fair to be insecure about yourself, your melanin color, your black ringlets of hair, it wouldn't be fair to pick at all the things about yourself that you just couldn't change.

You never thought of yourself as ugly; it was just how you appeared to others while living in a town with a majority of white people where being a minority was uncommon. You were aware that you couldn't blame the outside world for how alone you felt in Hawkins.

You were just…different. You didn't blame most boys in your grade for picking on you for the shape of your nose or the size of your lips.

You couldn't blame them. There were children not aware of the hateful comments that they would painlessly speak that would carry on until their teenage years.

You felt unseen most of your life, hiding behind that row of girls that just fit the beauty standard for perfection.

You had thought that you would spend your entire life in Hawkins, always hanging out on the sidelines and living curiously through all of your best friend’s romantic relationships.

Having to hype them up every time they bring up going on dates or being asked out by boys that you knew wouldn't bother to give you the time of day without any ulterior motives until Eddie welcomed you into his life.

He treated you as though you were meant to be his destiny and that the only reason you two had come into contact was that fate had sent you to earth as an angel.

Eddie hoped for miracles his entire life. He hoped that he would finally finish high school after being held back, that he would save up enough money to finally move out of his rusted cheap trailer and into an actual house, and that his band would finally get the recognition that they deserved, but all of that came in the form of you.

He swore that his miracle was you. If he could, he would have given whatever god was listening to a firm handshake for blessing him with you. He thought about it once, like Eddie actually thought about going to church with you by his side.

Driving past the street in his van, he spots you and your family all hurrying out of your father's car, all dressed up with frails and skin-colored stockings.

He wanted to stop and park his car across the street, trying to scramble up words to form the perfect greeting he would speak to your parents.

And then he realizes how drastically different your life was compared to his. You had a big loving family, siblings that were always in your business, and parents that would crack the whip on you just for putting a toe out of line. You were formed and built up into this perfect black woman.

Eddie was astounded that someone so perfect in his eyes could be in love with him like you were.

But there you were, sitting with your thighs straddled at his sides. Your arms hung over his shoulders, with your lips against his mouth.

Your life depends on it. Eddie had to convince himself many times in your relationship that he wasn't dreaming, that you weren’t actually some angel gifted to him by a higher power.

Eddie didn't believe in God as you did, but if he was up there, boy, were him and Eddie bound to be homies. His breath hitched at the feeling of your trailing fingers lingering down his chest, inching towards his lap, between your legs. "My god, you just…do something to me..." Eddie moans against your lips.

"You just make it so hard…to not absolutely want to…ruin you." His words alone sent a shiver up your spine. The shameless feeling of your back arching into the warmth of his broad chest, your big doe eyes peering into his didn't help his case at all.

"You're just so beautiful." Grinding your hips onto his lap. Feeling just how hard his erection felt as it pushed against the rough material of his jeans his hips coaxed into rutting against the plush of your thigh.

"You think I'm pretty?" Your concern about being unable to recognize your own true beauty is painfully innocent. Your gentle voice nearly caused Eddie's heart to break.

"Y/N, you're the most gorgeous girl I've ever laid my eyes on." Eddie watched in a deep trance as you took your bottom lip between your teeth and glanced down away from his gaze shyly.

Your hips roll forward against his tented jeans. His fingers dug into your hips, a sound of bliss leaving his mouth as his head tilted up to chase after your lips once more.

You shifted against his lap once more, just the whimpering sounds he was making just because of you were intoxicating to hear.

As you both carved the feeling of each other Eddie couldn't yet map out all the things he had wanted to do to you but he just knew that he needed you against him as nakes as he possibly could.

You felt his fingers slowly hooking under the hem of your collared shirt, the brush of his cold fingers colliding with the hot skin of your lower belly.

"Can I?" You could only nod as the words felt stuck in your throat, unbutton the top of your shirt before you could guide his hands to grab the material of your shirt.

He helped you yank the shirt over your head and toss it aside against the floor, his eyes instantly glued to the plain pink cotton bra that you wore.

You just looked too good, almost good enough to eat. Not that Eddie didn't want to eat you, he just wanted to go as slowly as possible to take everything in.

When his hands hover over the curves of your breast, you reach out to guide his hands and place them on your chest like a breath of relief.

The foggy look in his stare almost made you laugh, like he was starving to finally get his hands on every part of your body, wanting to worship every curve and mark, squeezing and fondling your breasts to his heart's content.

“Is this okay?” He asked with his fingers under the shoulder strap of your bra, his fingers twisting the elastic and fiddling with the plastic clasp that held it all together.

You nodded, shredding off your shoulder, and twisted the bra to the front of your chest, unclasping it with one hand, and just like your shirt, you let Eddie take it off and toss it aside with your shirt.

“Can you—can you touch them?” You murmured. Eddie wasn’t one to always be obedient, but the way you spoke to him was doing wonders for the growing problem in his groin. He dove his face into your chest, his mouth trailing wet kisses in the crevice of your chest, as per your request.

His finger held you down from squirming in his lip as this tongue reached the bud of your nipple. Sucking and swirling his warm, wet tongue over the perky bud, you whimpered from the contact, ducking your head away as your hand covered your mouth to prevent making any more embarrassingly lewd noises.

“Can you touch me too, please?” His words were bold and straight to the point, despite the slight slur from his lips being wrapped around your boob. When you saw the spit string connecting his lips to your nipple, your mind went into overdrive.

Your fingers were trembling as they unzipped the front of his jeans. Eddie drew his jeans past his knees, his hand bringing yours beneath the elastic cuff of his briefs to the pulsing girth of his crotch.

His hips buckled from just the simple contact of your hand, finally giving him the attention that he begged for.

“God, angel, do you feel what you do to me?” His tone was so eager that you had found it adorable how needy you both were for each other.

From the material of his underwear, he unleashes his cock. Your fingers were wrapped around his length, listening to the low whimper from Eddie like it was music to your ears, curling into your touch, stroking your hand as your fingers were already sticky with his precum dripping from the tip of his cock.

"Um, do you have a condom?" There was a pause after your question, Eddie panting as he squinted his eyes at you like so much blood had rushed to his dick that his brain was delaying everything else.

“The—in my nightstand.” He finally answered as you hopped off of his lap and crawled to the side of the mattress, your hand fishing for the big rectangle box of rubbers.

Your eyes widened at the XL label, slowly glancing back at Eddie as he shrugged his shoulders. His breath was still heavy from just wanting to touch you again.

You definitely weren't allowed to touch another condom again. Your first attempt of trying to open the plastic wrapping with your teeth ended with you ripping the condom inside in half.

Your second attempt wasn't much better. Your hands were slippery from the lube that had gotten on your fingers. Just as you twisted your fingers around the plastic to tear it, your fingers slipped away from the wrapper and collided with Eddie’s nose.

Your boyfriend huffs in laughter before snatching the wrapper from your hands and putting on the condom himself.

You were comfortable enough to laugh about it, Eddie trying to soothe you as much as possible with the warm feeling of his hands rubbing against the top of your thigh as you shed your underwear and positioned yourself over the tip of his cock.

"Oh, s—shit," Eddie grunted when you lowered yourself onto his shaft, your arms trembling as you used your thighs to hold yourself up with your head tucked into his shoulder.

Eddie let you set your own pace, his hands fisting by his side into the bed sheets as his face scutched in bliss from the feeling of you struggling to take just his tip inside of you.

The feeling of your heart beating so hard that he could feel it against his chest, his arm snaking around the curve of your waist to help you balance yourself out, listening to every small nose that parted from your lips.

As you shifted your hips to slowly take all of him, coaxing the same moan from each other, Eddie rested his head against your chest, pulling you in closer, practically hugging you as if his entire cock hadn't been buried inside of you.

The feeling of him stretching the warmth of your walls makes you feel light-headed. You wanted your body to get used to the size of him as quickly as possible, taking much more than what you had expected.

Your face twisting in pain as you squirm in his lap, trying to get rid of the sting of pain from slamming down on him with little preparation. “Take it at your own pace angel, you can take it.” Eddie encouraged you from below, leaning up to kiss you, using his mouth to relieve some of the pain, dividing your attention between your tongue invading his mouth.

Your hips stuttered, raising them slowly before starting a more stable pace. The creak in his cheap box spring was almost as long as Eddie’s moans as you rode him.

He tightens his grip around your waist, restarting himself to not snap his hips to match your pace, wanting you to have full control for your first time.

"Hmm—so big Eds," you mumbled, the fan of your breath against his ear, slamming your hips and grinding against him. He felt like he was going to pass out as he had died, and the pearly white gates were the spread of your thighs, and his heaven was the feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock.

"You feel so good, Y/N," Eddie rasped. "So fucking perfect." His words of encouragement make you feel drunk just from his words.

Your hips rocking at your own pace, it was starting to become unbearable on Eddie’s side of things. His hips were trembling to the sound of your wet folds struggling to take him all the way down to the base.

The cool metal from his fingers brushed against the warm skin of your thighs, his hips shifting up almost like he was struggling to restrain himself.

You looked down and instantly recognized the pleading look, the look that told you that he needed every inch of you. Your lips met in approval as his hips bucked up into yours at his own pace.

Your head drops in pleasure, resting your forehead against his shoulder, your moans echoing like a sweet tone in his ears.

He could feel the trembling in your legs, struggling to hold himself up as he had his way with you. Eddie decides to give you a bit of mercy, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible.

The moment he pulls out of you, your insides feel weird, like a ghost of him still lingering inside of you pulling away as he picks you up by your thighs with a grunt, shifting your position so that you lie with your back against the mattress.

There was a cute moment when the tip of his cock pressed against your opening, a dopey grin on his face being replaced with a moan that fell in rhythm with yours. You both feel reconnected, he slides his entire length back inside of you where you thought he belonged all along.

"You feel so fucking good," Eddie whimpered, his voice low. "You gotta let yourself go, Angel. Come on, I know you want to." leaning down as you chased after his lips, kissing him deeply.

His tongue slid into your mouth, parting your lips as the rough skin of his thumb rubbed rough circles against your clit. You had to reach your hand and place him in the right position, but it was the thought that mattered the most to you.

The new sensation is enough to drive you over the edge, and Eddie is watching your body tense and tighten from under him. The feeling of you squeezing around his cock, drawing out his own orgasm, his thrusts stuttering as he continued to ride out yours.

His fist clenched around the blanket just beside your head as he ducked into the crook of your neck.

Grunting against your neck with every thrust, his orgasm untumbled the feeling from his eyelashes fluttering from squeezing his eyes closed as he fell limp against your chest, a breath being thrown from your lungs.

You couldn't help but laugh to the best of your ability.

The feeling of Eddie laying his entire weight against you wasn’t something that you were a stranger to, it was just the first time you’d done it while being naked and him not threatening to throw you into a headlock.

Watched him struggle to stand on his own two feet, his thighs clenching as he stumbled to throw the condom away before you could peel back the blankets and slip between the bed sheets holding the blanket up as Eddie crawled to lay in front of you.

Lying on your side, your arms encircling his torso as you put your head on his shoulder and savor the warmth of his body.

Your thumb felt at ease touching his arm. "I feel like I could totally last longer than that, by the way." You chuckled, reaching your leg over his and hooking the bend of your knee into his thigh to cuddle closer to him.

"Well, my parents think I’m at band practice, so we have the rest of the afternoon."

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