#was already predetermined? fuck off
Text
What upsets me astrology isn't when it attributes certain traits I have that I'd blame on genetics or smth to the stars, like ''oh you're forgetful bc you're [star sign]" no lol it's bc I have adhd but whatever, I find that silly but it doesn't upset me, it's the same as if you said "you're tall bc you're [star sign] not bc your mother is tall" like lol but okay
What upsets me is when ppl claim I have a trait that I worked really hard for, bc I am this star sign. Like. I worked so hard on becoming more compassionate and understanding of other ppl, it was difficult, it's still hard sometimes, I've worked so hard to not blurt out every rude "joke" my mind comes up with so I don't hurt ppl accidentally, I was such an inconsiderate bitch as a teenager and didn't even know it and now? Now ppl come to me with their problems it is wild, I still don't know how to deal half the time
But you'd give all the credit for my hard work to the stars. It's so rude. I did that. I didn't have to either, I could have grown up into one of Benedict cumberbatch's asshole genius characters. That I didn't is bc I had friends who called me out when needed and bc I chose to learn how to be better. The stars had nothing to do with it
There's also an aspect of "[star sign] are like this and this" that feels so static, like the universe decided you are this way so you do not get to change and if you do change? Haha yeah actually that's also a trait of [star sign] actually lol
Of course most of the time when I say any of this to someone who believes in astrology I get a "you know that's exactly what a [star sign] would say" so....
#astrology neg#like. if you're just having fun with it fine#if you genuinely believe in it but back off when ppl tell you to? you know what? i don't get it but also fine#but if you do this shit and try to tell me everything I am everything I've build myself to be#was already predetermined? fuck off#i build myself in my own image#also got this issue with other ideas of destiny but at least those are usually less specific#i know destiny can be comforting to ppl. but to me it's only ever felt restrictive#also yeah not telling you my star sign bc this is tumblr#i do not trust ppl not to go ''well op sorry but that is in fact exactly what a [sign] would say''#this way if you wanna do that you have to actually guess so if you hit the right one I'll respect it
0 notes
Text
love like you
pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader
summary: mike helps you through a rough patch by reminding you of the many, many reasons he loves you
warnings: established relationship, angst, comfort, mentions of depression, anxiety & panic attacks, self-doubt, intrusive thoughts
word count: 2.1k
"Why do you love me?"
You ask the question so quietly, Mike almost misses it over the movie playing in the background. At first, he's not sure how to respond—or at the very least, where to begin.
You've never asked him that before, and he'd never given it much thought if he's being totally honest. He assumed you hadn't, either. It's just something he feels.
It's something he's always felt, gradually building since the day you led his sister back to him after she'd wandered off in the supermarket. He took one look at you, your kind eyes and patient smile, and asked you on a date without a second thought. That's what it's like to love you—instinctual.
He glances away from the TV and looks down at you curiously. Your head is nestled on his lap, eyes already locked on his and filled with apprehension he can't even begin to understand. There are a thousand and one reasons to love you; don't you realize that? He'd tell you every one if you asked.
He loves you because you're always there, through the late-night shifts and nightmares, helping him parent a child you shouldn't have to be responsible for at such a young age. You confiscate his controller every time he tries to smash it in a fit of rage, beating whatever boss he'd been fighting for hours like a champ. He thinks you're so fucking cool.
And you understand him like no one else ever has, so attentive and always willing to try. You kiss away his fears, strip him bare, unmask him. Allow him to seek shelter inside you, ride him to a mind-numbing release when his darkest thoughts threaten to consume him.
You hold him when he wants to give up, when the weight of the world is too much and persevering is too hard. The familiar, soothing tone of your voice reminds him to breathe, to tune out the little things and remember that there's still good to be found in life.
It's everything you do and everything you are. That's why he loves you.
But before he can say anything at all, your face screws up and your bottom lip begins to tremble. His chest immediately tightens.
"Woah, hey. It's okay," he murmurs, keeping you grounded in the present despite his rising panic. "You're okay."
You're prone to spiraling, but after years together, he knows the best way to mitigate it is to stay calm. Regardless of the raging storm in your head, you're safe with him, warm and dry at home on your couch.
He caresses your cheek, then trails up to scrub at the crinkle in your forehead. "What's going on up there?"
"Nothing. It's—really, it's nothing. I'm sorry, I don't know why I asked you that," you shake your head, averting your gaze elsewhere. But after a moment, your eyes snap back to his, and there's so much pain there, he can almost feel it.
"No, it's...it's everything. My brain won't shut up, and it's mean and loud, and I just—," you pause, clenching your jaw in frustration. "I just don't get it. Of everyone you could've been with, why me? I can't understand why you chose me."
The question feels like a slap in the face. Like he had so many choices and only picked you based on some predetermined criteria of what someone should want in a partner. He didn't just pull your name out of a bowl, either. You chose each other.
He wracks his brain to figure out what he could've said or done to make you believe otherwise, but then remembers this isn't about him. He tries again to explain all of the reasons he wanted to before, to tell you that the unrelenting thoughts ping-ponging in your head are wrong, but you continue on, unraveling before his eyes.
"I'm a shitty person. I'm selfish and useless, and all I do is make everyone around me unhappy. There's always a crisis, I'm always sad. And I always make everything about me," you tell him, getting angrier by the second. "Ugly, worthless, selfish, selfish. I’m a fucking burden. You know, I—I just keep waiting for you to figure it out and leave. To get sick of this...of me."
He listens helplessly as you tear yourself apart, the ache in his chest intensifying the worse your verbal barrage becomes. He knows he can't just reassure away your insecurities or magically heal your trauma, no matter how badly he wants to. But he also can't let this go on any longer.
"Stop," he says softly, cutting you off. Hearing the full extent of your criticism is agonizing, and if it's hurting him this much, he hates to think what you must be feeling. "None of that is true. I think...I hope, deep down, you know that."
The broken look you give him tells him you don't, or maybe that you can't, at least not right now. You open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head and hauls you up into his arms. He holds you close as you start to tremble, guiding you to rest your cheek on his shoulder.
"There's nothing shitty about you, alright? You're the least selfish person I've ever met. Kinda wish you were so you'd stop prioritizing us over yourself all the time," he murmurs into your hair. "And you're fucking gorgeous. I don't want to hear you say any of that ever again."
He tilts his head to meet your eyes. "Got it?"
You shake your head, turning to hide your face in the crook of his neck. He sighs. He just can't fathom how you could possibly look at yourself and not see what he and Abby do. But then again, he might understand more than he'd like to admit.
Everything you've told him tonight feels jarringly familiar. The self-hatred, the unending criticism—he wallows in those thoughts all the time and knows better than anyone that they'll eat you alive if you bottle them up for too long.
He hates that you have to suffer through this just because brain chemistry is indiscriminately cruel. It's unfair. He, at the very least, deserves it.
Except, that's not actually true, is it? And if your roles were reversed, you'd remind him as many times as it takes for him to believe it. You'd tell him that he's perfect exactly the way he is. That he's a good parent, brother, and partner, and regardless of all of the shit life has thrown his way, he's still a good person that isn't defined by his lowest moments.
So, he'll do the same for you.
He shifts you on his lap so you're face-to-face, your legs bracketing his thighs, and cups your cheeks to keep your attention on him. He's not letting you hide anymore. He needs you to hear what he has to say and trust that he'd never lie to you.
"You're not worthless or useless or anything else your brain is telling you right now. Okay? You're perfect," he says quietly, stroking your cheek. "I've always thought you were perfect, from the moment I met you."
Doubt clouds your expression. "I don't believe you."
"Why would I lie to you?"
"B-because that's what you're supposed to say when you're trying to make someone feel better," you reply shakily.
Ouch. He hadn’t expected that answer. It stings that you'd think so little of him, especially after all this time. He feels like he’s grasping at straws now, but everything he wants to say is just a variation of how highly he sees you. It’s all equally true, but if you can’t accept that, then what else can he do?
"Then, tell me what you need to hear right now. Tell me how to help you through this, because I love you so fucking much, and I will do anything," he pleads, his frustration bleeding through despite how hard he tries to suppress it.
It’s starting to affect you. You’re shaking like a leaf, and he can tell you want to run away, but instead of letting you go, he wraps his arms around you as carefully as he can to keep you from leaving. He doesn't want to force you to face this. He just needs you to stop hurting yourself. Your face crumples, and he feels his own do the same.
"I don't know. Probably nothing," you tell him, voice cracking. "Look, we don't have to talk about it anymore. I'm sorry for bringing it up in the first place. Can we just go back to watching the movie? I’ll rewind it—“
But Mike doesn't want to let this go. Even if he should, even though you're asking—he's determined to make sure you go to bed tonight knowing how loved you are. His next words come out harsher than he wants them to, but he’s getting desperate. He’s only human.
"Fine. You want the truth? Being with you is hard. It's one of the hardest things I've ever done, and sometimes, it hurts like hell," he starts. Your expression morphs from sad to devastated, and he feels terrible for upsetting you, but he has to say this for both of your sakes.
"But that's what makes it worth it. I've never felt this way about anyone, probably never will again. Not because it's easy; because it's you. Sure, no one's perfect, but you're about as close as it gets. You're it for me.”
He truly believes that. Maybe you do, too. The tension in your body is beginning to bleed away, and you slowly sag against him, tucking yourself into his chest. He catches a glimpse of your face as you melt into him, and for the first time tonight, you look hopeful. Nuzzling into your hair, he continues.
"I can't imagine a life without you anymore. It's like you're part of me now, maybe even the best parts, and I fill in the gaps in between. We just…figured it out at some point. Together.” He’s starting to ramble, but he’s too invested to stop. Judging by the fact that you haven’t interrupted him or tried to intervene, it doesn’t seem like you want him to, either.
“Even the small shit other couples fight about. Like the dishes—you hate doing those because digging the silverware out of the sink grosses you out, so I do it. And you fold the laundry because I always burn myself taking the clothes out of the dryer. We talk shit out. We try."
He squeezes you a little tighter. “Maybe those seem like shitty reasons to love someone, but they’re real. Just as real as what I told you before," he says softly, pausing to kiss the top of your head. "You're beautiful. You're kind and passionate, and I’m just the lucky guy that gets to be with you. I’ll be here as long as you want me.”
When he finally finishes, he’s all but gasping for air. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, and he’s breathing so heavily, he feels like he just ran a marathon. But it’s worth it to see the look on your face as you peer up at him, cautious but peaceful.
“How could I not want you?” you whisper, splaying your hand across his chest, just below his collarbone. You're feeling his heartbeat.
"I've been asking you that all damn night," he chuckles. Cradling your head in his palm, he swipes away a few stray tears that fall with the next flutter of your lashes. "So, did I answer your question or should I keep going? Because seriously, I can keep going—"
You snort, effectively cutting him off, then give him a wry smile. The relief he feels is palpable.
“You know, I really don’t deserve you," you murmur as you lean up to kiss the underside of his jaw. When your lips linger, he ducks down to press his against yours, kissing you deeply and pouring in everything left unsaid.
"Sure, you do," he says kindly, but with finality. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, you're both starting to look as tired as you feel. But more than that, he's grateful; to have you in his life and to be able to comfort you when you need it most. You taught him that. "And I think we both deserve some sleepytime tea and a really soft blanket...if Abby didn't already steal it off our bed."
Your face lights up, and it's as if he solved all of the world's problems with that one simple offering. It's the same look you give him when he tells you he loves you. The corners of your eyes crinkle as you say it back.
"I love you, too."
thanks for reading!
divider by @saradika-graphics
a/n: this was a homework assignment from my therapist 💀 oops
#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt angst#mike schmidt#fnaf fanfic#fnaf imagine#fnaf movie#josh hutcherson x reader#josh hutcherson fanfic#josh hutcherson#jhutch
124 notes
·
View notes
Text
Prefacing this with I haven't read the comics I just dip in and out like the canon is a pool and I'm trying to climb onto a pool floatie.
So y'all remember that weird fucked up mind game test Bruce pulled on Tim in the beginning of their bullshit? The real fucked up mindgame that made Tim quit being robin for a bit, before coming back and being all "I know I'm not gonna get an apology." And Bruce was all "good."?
What if Tim realized it for what it was.
Tim realizes the test is a test and decides to get back at Bruce in his own game.
Bruce wants to act like he doesn't care about him in an effort to protect himself from grief if another kid ends up dying? That's fine.
Bruce resorting to psychological mind games to drive Tim away from seeking any support??
Not cool.
Tim realizes, and pulls a Hamlet.
He likes Dick, doesn't want the man to go through what Bruce is about to, and goes to Bludhaven to directly tell Dick not to believe ANYTHING Batman says for a month if it relates to Tim, that he's gonna teach the old man a lesson.
Dicks like "uhhhhhhh okay? U know we can just tell him whatever he's done is wrong, right?"
And Tim's just "nah, I'm past that point. See u in like three weeks to a month. This conversation didn't happen."
He leaves a copy of Hamlet in his locker in the bat cave, the only clue he's gonna drop until all is said and done, and gets to work.
Pretends that Bruce's mind fuck has driven him mad, pretends that he's sneaking off to chase down leads, pretends to talk to people that aren't there, visits the joker just to learn how to mimic his laugh, (side bar, joker has no idea why the new robin is visiting him and disabling the cameras, or why the kid just copies what he says and when he laughs, but after like two weeks of it he may be slightly uncomfortable around the kid no lie) uses makeup to make his eye bags look worse and trashes his own house (his parents are gonna be so pissed but he's already angrier than they could ever hope to be, so they can suck it), acts so unhinged Bruce calls it off and tries to tell him the truth, only for Tim to pretend like he doesn't believe him and steal the robin uniform and run away, and then goes and sneaks away from his own house (he knew he was being watched) to a warehouse he predetermined with a conspiracy theory board and string in his room (he needs to make sure Bruce knows where Tim wants him to go) and the conspiracy theory is just an amalgamation of the bullshit Joker spews (again, joker is really confused by this strange child hero and very slightly unsettled, what the fuck Batman where the fuck did u get this robin, maybe return him to the robin store? This one's defunct), makes sure it's abandoned, and blows it to hell with the robin uniform inside
He knows Bruce will be too jarred, to lost in the major trauma buttons Tim is pushing with the warehouse explosion, to do a proper analysis. He KNOWS Bruce will want it done as quickly as possible, and try to bury Tim as quickly as he can. He knows his parents won't get any phone calls for at least a month.
Then he goes to ground for a week.
Walks back into the cave after that week, corners a grieving and broken Bruce, and asks him how he likes mind games now.
After all, it was just a TEST. There was no need to skip basic steps like DNA analysis, that's just SLOPPY Bruce.
Dick, who had been warned by Tim early on and kinda knew the kid was gonna pull a fast one of Bruce, had NO IDEA it was gonna be this depraved, and is very highly Shook. Nor did he realize Bruce had tried a mind game first, and is...disappointed but not surprised, really.
But holy shit Tim Bruce started at a 9 and you escalated to a goddamn 25.
Bruce, realizing that they may both be a bit fucked up, acquiesces to therapy. For all of them. Holy shit for all of them, because that was NOT a normal teenage response and he is beginning to sense some distinctly villainous red flags from this kid.
Next time the joker breaks out he flat out refuses to believe that Tim is a Robin, and joker is the one that starts the whole Cuckoo thing, and asks Batman if he's gonna send the kid to Arkham early or if this is a weird intervention program he's trying.
Then he tries to murder like fifty people cuz he's the motherfucking JOKER.
#Batman#Tim drake#Bruce Wayne#Tim drake is deranged#Tim drake is feral#fanfic prompt#story prompt#this early on Bruce has no idea just HOW feral this kid is#in this au he's about to#maybe I'll write it#actions have consequences au#Jason comes back to pull his bullshit#only for Batman to corner good and just#look man I'm trying really#really hard#to make sure robin doesn't turn supervillain#do NOT fuck this up for me#and Jason's just#really fucking confused#because this is supposed to be his replacement?#then he tries to attack titans tower#and meets feral Tim from his au#and yeah#yeah he can see why Bruce was telling him not to cross the kid
615 notes
·
View notes
Note
mer my dear mutual mer i would like to ask you how do i get into lifesteal
HELLO FARLANDS!! you've come to the right place. Step into my office.
this is an interesting question with a variety of different answers. a lot of the time people seem to direct you towards videos rather than stream vods, which does makes sense, because they're more accessible and the barrier to entry is definitely less daunting.
but lifesteal videos aren't episodic, they're designed for a viewer to be able to jump in with little to no context at any moment. they throw a lot of information at you fast as hell, and events spanning hours and hours of footage are condensed down in ways where most of the meat gets cut off. i have a hard time absorbing information from or remembering what happens in lifesteal videos because of the editing styles... i don't claim that this isn't in large part a taste thing, but in videos you miss the complicated character moments, and the sense of pacing/chronology, and all of the things that happen that don't translate well to video logic. and you don't get to see (as much of) the dimension of things where the fact that everyone is trying to make videos can be character and story relevant information. all of these things are what make lifesteal season 4 my favorite minecraft roleplay ever in the world. i guess i would say that i do like lifesteal videos, but mostly in relation to the livestreams.
all of which means that while pretty much any lifesteal video ever produced can make for a perfectly serviceable starting point, it doesn't really get you any of the things about lifesteal --i-- care about. and you're asking ME. So.
what is the deal with lifesteal in general?
you probably know at least some of this already, but for the sake of the thing:
lifesteal is a server based around a mechanic where, upon killing someone, you gain one of the hearts off of their health bar up to a maximum of 20. if you lose all of your hearts you're banned, but this is temporary and players can be revived. it's also a server where you're free to steal and destroy builds to your heart's content, and people toy with breaking the rules they do have often. so it naturally follows that lifestealers are generally interested in pvp, and have a social system where the most important relationships are your teammates, who come before basically anything else. lifesteal IS roleplay but it isn't scripted, and what they mean by unscripted is that the outcomes of a conflict can't be predetermined, because that would defeat the point—if something goes wrong, it goes wrong. (and hopefully, it goes right for somebody else.)
why season 4?
short answer, because it's the one that has the guys i care about in the situations i care about. the long answer is at 9k words and not even close to done yet so you're gonna have to wait a bit on that one.
the medium answer: while you could go back and watch through season 3 in detail, or try to just start watching season 5 and keep up with stuff live as it happens, that's not what i did. i have it on good authority that the mer guide to lifesteal season 4 works, because i did that, and also because my friend whose initial reaction to lifesteal was "wow this subz guy is loud..." and then radio silence for months has since sat through 30 hours of princezam building stream of his own free will. see review below:
lifesteal can be sort of an acquired taste. i think a lot of the time it either clicks for you or it doesn't, or you have to see the right thing and then suddenly the appeal starts making sense.
luckily, the aftermath of zam betraying mapicc & ro in season 4 tends to have this effect on people, and it's a good jumping in point! i didn't actually start watching season 4 chronologically, i started by bouncing around the last couple weeks of the season and quickly discovering that it was bonkers fucking crazy and i needed to know more about this "eclipse federation" thing... so i don't really think knowing how it ends makes it less fun to watch, and if you wanted to just poke around at random and see what's up i wouldn't stop you. i went back and sat through everything between that aforementioned betrayal and the end of season 4 chronologically after i already knew how things ended up and it's thoroughly enjoyable that way. maybe even better than the alternative, because you're less likely to get caught up in how frustrating some of it can be. but if you would rather know as little as possible going in you can definitely give it a shot, and i do think there are parts that are probably even more fun if you don't know what's coming.
how do i do that though?
and here is my gift to you. when i watched through season 4 all i had to go off of was the vod archive spreadsheet, which is great & wonderful & awesome & the best thing ever, but it does kinda just have you clicking links blindfolded if you don't already know what's going on.
so eventually i started keeping track of vods as i watched, in a google doc. it has clips and/or timestamps and summaries for basically every vod in the second half of season 4. it's a little embarrassing because it records a bunch of my initial reactions to stuff but c'est la vie. it's also 85 pages long (it was 105! i edited my notes down!), but again you can jump around to get a lay of the land if you want, and how much stuff you skip is completely at your own discretion. have at it.
99 notes
·
View notes
Text
Apothecary - Chapter Seven
joel miller x witchy!reader
series masterlist
the town of Jackson comes together for a meeting, and truths are revealed.
wordcount: 4.8K
warnings | 18+ smut, significant angst, dramaaaaa
.............................
The irony isn’t lost on her. What now serves as the Jackson town hall had been a church in its previous life, high-arched windows, wooden pews, pulpit and all. Her mother would show her pictures from history books of Salem, their ancestors, she had told her, faces steeled in cool resignation amidst a contorted hysteria. She thinks of those images now, sitting in the first pew, Joel tucking her into his side, and dozens of eyes skittering up her neck.
“Alright, let’s go ahead and start the meeting. I think we all know why I called everyone together. There’s been a lot of talk around town and it’s time to put rumors to rest and set the record straight.” Maria’s voice echoes through the hall from where she stands at the front of the room, Tommy right by her side, quieting the low thrum of the crowd. There’s not an empty seat to be had, people relegated to stand in the back, and she doesn’t dare glance over her shoulder out of fear of what she might find, glares and whispers, jaws set in predetermined condemnation. Joel however, can’t stop looking, his head whipping around every few moments before turning back to her with a grunt until she finally gives his knee a squeeze.
“You’re gonna throw your back out if you keep twisting your neck like that.” He sighs, resting his hand over hers.
“That’s gonna be the least of my worries if these people don’t stop fucking staring.” His words come out with a huff, and she offers him what she can of a smile, giving his thigh another squeeze. Though both of their attention is drawn back to the front of the room as the meeting really begins.
“We’d like for this to be an open forum to clear the air and discuss folks’ concern about what’s been going on, so if everyone’s amenable to that, we can open the floor to whoever would like to speak first.” It doesn’t surprise her that as soon as Maria steps to the side, Mason is getting up from his seat next to Matthew and Maura to stand in front of the crowd.
“I’d like to speak on behalf of the Nichols who are too grief-stricken at this moment to talk about such things. But they need and deserve justice for what happened to their baby, and I think it’s high time that witch right there gave us some answers.” She can feel Joel’s muscles tense under her hands, and she muses that if she wasn’t keeping a steady palm on him, he’d already be out of his seat and heading for Mason. Untangling herself from him, she gives Joel what she hopes is a reassuring nod as she stands up, squaring her shoulders as she faces Mason.
“I’m happy to give you answers. But I’m afraid it’s not going to be what you want to hear.” She turns to look at Maura, sitting across the aisle with tears welling in her eyes, Matthew set in a stony glare beside her.
“Maura, I can’t express how sorry I am for what happened to your baby. And I need you to know that if there was anything I could have done to change things, I would have done it in a heartbeat. But I don’t think anyone could have changed what happened. It was just– it was too early, and I’m sorry.” For a moment, Maura’s features soften as she looks at her, a silent understanding that’s gone as soon as it comes when Matthew opens his mouth.
“Don’t listen to her, Maura. Remember what I told you? Nothing but lies coming out of her mouth.”
“Why would I lie about something like this? Something as awful as this?” With that, Mason takes a few strides toward her, too close for comfort as his lip curls at her.
“Oh, you know why, little witch.”
“Back off.” Too focused on Mason, she failed to notice Joel standing up, now stepping between them to glower at the man just as Maria steps forward as well, looking pointedly between the two men.
“Let’s keep things civil here, shall we?” Mason huffs, nostrils flared, though he does take a few steps back. And then she glances over her shoulder, though she wishes she hadn’t, quickly realizing that this has turned into a bona fide production for the people of Jackson to watch, necks craned to catch the action at the pulpit.
“I can tell you all exactly why she’d– she’d curse us like this. It’s because I wouldn’t give her what she wanted.” Matthew is up out of his seat, turned to, essentially, play to the crowd, his arms gesticulating broadly as he mouths off.
“She tried to put me under her spell. Tried to tempt me and seduce me like she did with all those other poor men, Miller included. But I am faithful, and I resisted her temptations. That’s why she cursed me, that’s why our baby is dead. And it’s why all those other men are dead too.” The crowd breaks into a thrumming murmur as Matthew finishes his speech, and her stomach sinks at the sound of their clear assent, heads nodding along to his words. This is about when the pitchforks come out, right?
“I have heard enough!” A hush falls over the crowd, Joel’s booming voice bouncing off the walls as he turns fully around to look at them.
“Do y’all really hear what this man is saying? This-this nonsense about someone who has helped every single one of you in this goddamn room?” She’s stunned still by his outburst, and everyone else seems to be too, eyes wide as Joel points to someone in the crowd.
“You told me she cured your son’s cough after he had it for years.” She recognizes the woman, who nods at Joel’s words, glancing over to her before responding.
“That’s true– she did. It was– well, it was a huge relief.”
“She did the same for our little girl when she was sick last year. We thought her cough would never go away, but she helped her, helped us.” Another woman’s voice fills the room, heads turning to listen.
“And how many of y’all have gone to her looking for help when your kids come home with poison ivy? I know I have.” There’s a wave of murmurs in the crowd, heads nodding at Joel’s words as he points to someone else.
“And you told me that she helped your wife through her entire pregnancy, ain’t that right?” The man nods, just as another woman speaks up.
“She helped me too, with both of my girls– honestly I don’t know how I would’ve done it without her.”
“Us too, we’ve got her to thank for our boy.” She turns around at the sound of Tommy’s voice, seeing him and Maria both smiling at her where they stand.
Several other people come forward, sharing their own stories of how she had helped them in the past, and she can’t help the tears that start to gather in her lashes at this, a gratitude she has never experienced before. Joel takes her hand in his, glancing at her as people continue to speak, stories of rashes cured and colds stymied, wounds tended and care given. But Matthew isn’t done speaking just yet.
“Don’t listen to this man, he-he’s under her spell! He doesn’t know what he’s talking about!”
“I’m not under some fucking spell. I know the woman I love, and I know that she wouldn’t harm anyone. And I also know she wouldn’t so much as look your way.” Joel’s words shock her, words she hasn’t heard from him before, but she doesn’t have much time to consider them before Mason is butting in with his own declaration.
“So she’s helped some people. That doesn’t take away from the fact that she’s a licentious slut who’s trying to drive men to adultery!” It’s a stunning slew of words, but before she or Joel can even react, a young woman is shooting up out of her seat and bursting out with a firm exclamation.
“She’s not an adulterer! He is! I’ve been having an affair with Matthew Nichols for months!” A collective gasp washes over the crowd, and she watches the color leave Matthew’s face. The woman waits for a lull in the commotion to continue speaking, eyes darting around the crowd.
“Don’t blame her for any of this. That man is a liar– I’m so sorry, Maura.” With that, the woman lets out a broken sob as she pushes through the crowd, hurrying toward the exit as Matthew calls out a rather meek “Lisa?” In the meantime, Maura has stood up, tears no longer falling as she stares at her husband, shock mingling with ire in her eyes.
“Maura, it’s not– it’s not what it–” Maura cuts off Matthew’s stammering with a palm held up between them, only offering him one word before she turns heel and storms out of the town hall.
“Don’t.” Matthew is quick to rush out on his wife’s heels, calling after her, leaving everyone thoroughly speechless, stunned silence hanging in the air as eyes dart around, searching for answers now that the floor has all but fallen out from under them.
Joel lets go of her hand, stepping over to a very slack-jawed Mason, nose to nose as he glares at him.
“I suggest you go on home now, son, I think we’re done here.” He doesn’t have to be told twice.
…
By the time she makes it back to Joel’s house, the sun has already pulled hazy and low over the mountains, washing everything in orange fading into purple.
“How’s she holding up?” She sighs at his question, plopping down next to him on the porch bench and all but melting into his side.
“I think she’ll be ok. She’s gonna stay with a friend of hers until the council works out a new place for her to live, but she seems pretty clear about her decision. Wants nothing to do with that man ever again.” After the town meeting that morning, she had sought Maura out immediately, inviting her to her shop, somewhere quiet for them to talk. And talk they did, for the better part of the day.
“And you and her are good?”
“I think so, yeah.” There’s so much more she could say. How Maura kept telling her that she knew it wasn’t her fault. How awful she felt for how everything happened. And how they both couldn’t stop thinking about that little baby girl. But with the day she’s had, it’s nothing that can’t wait, leaving it at that for now as Joel pulls her a little closer under his arm.
“You were something else today, Miller.” His grumble thrums under her palm splayed over his chest, shaking his head as he looks at her.
“I did what needed to be done. Those people needed some fucking sense talked into them. And for the record, I’m still thinking about paying Mason a visit and–” She cuts him off with a kiss, brushing his hair back before letting her palm come to rest along his scruff.
“He’s not worth it, Joel. I don’t think he’s gonna give us any more trouble either. Not after what happened today.” Though he doesn’t seem too satisfied by her response, the second kiss she presses to his lips seems to melt some of his resolve, the crease between his brows easing up as she pulls away to look at him.
“So, the woman you love, huh?” That distracts him, his jaw going a little slack as she grins at him.
“You– you caught that?” She’s quick to stifle her laugh when she sees the clear worry in his eyes, letting her palm fall back to his chest to rub reassuring circles there.
“Yeah, I caught that.”
“I didn’t, uh– I mean– I didn’t mean to–”
“It was kinda nice hearing the man I love talk about me like that.” His brows shoot up his forehead at that, and this time she can’t hold back her laugh at his shocked expression.
“I– you– you mean me, right?”
“What do you think?” He pulls her into this kiss, swallowing her laugh and then silencing it with the way he licks into her mouth, her mind going hazy with him.
“Innocent eyes present! Please do not scar me for life, thank you very much.” They reluctantly pull away from each other, Joel grumbling as Ellie comes stomping up the porch steps, Stevie hot on her heels.
“I heard you guys did some serious ass-whooping today. Is it true what people are saying about the Nichols?” Joel huffs at her words, and at Stevie who has leapt into her lap between them, front paws digging into his thigh.
“Kid, no one did any ass-whooping, alright? And don’t look so pleased about what happened to the Nichols either, ain’t a laughing matter.”
“He’s right, Ellie. Things are gonna be ok, but it was a hard day for everyone.” Ellie schools her face into something like solemnity, crossing her arms in front of her and nodding.
“Although… Joel did do some ass-whooping today.” At that, Ellie’s face breaks into a grin, pumping her fist in the air before holding her palm out to Joel for a high five, which he does not reciprocate, quirking his eyebrow at both of them with a shake of his head before getting up with a grumble that he’s going to get started on dinner, Stevie mewling in indignation at the sudden shift off of his legs and onto the bench next to her. With the soft click of the front door behind him, all it takes is Ellie glancing back her way for the both of them to let out a laugh.
It feels like a relief, like something settling back into place.
…
“So much for taking it slow, huh?” Joel glances at her in the bathroom mirror, wiping toothpaste off his mouth before resting his hip against the counter and fully looking at her.
“Think we’re way past slow now, darlin.” She had rather sheepishly asked him if it’d be ok for her to stay the night, not sure if she was still welcome now that everything had blown over. Joel had just looked at her like she was crazy for even asking, pulling her into a tight hug and murmuring something about her never having to leave if she didn’t want to. And she’s not sure if she ever will, not after that rock that came soaring through the front window of her house. She had already had a faint thread of an idea that maybe Maura could take her house after she moved in with Joel, since it seems like whatever this is, it’s going to stick around. He’s going to stick around, and so is she.
“Where’d you go?” His gentle question and his hand on her hip shakes her out of her head, blinking a few times to focus back on him standing in front of her.
“Hmm? Just thinking– it’s nothing important, not right now at least.” He hums at that, shuffling closer and taking her face in his hands, his eyes seemingly searching her expression.
“You alright?” It’s so genuine, the worry just barely creasing his brow as he looks at her that she’d probably melt under his gaze if not for his hands holding her steady. The sigh that she lets out is one she’s been holding in for a while.
“I think so, yeah. I– what you did today– for me. No one’s ever done something like that— stood up for me like that. And I guess I’m just trying to say thank you, for sticking your neck out for me.” He seems to consider her words for a moment, lips parted and eyes turned down as he strokes his thumb over her cheek.
“I’d do it again in an instant, darlin. Meant what I said too. I love you. Fuck, I really love you.” With all the other ones, she had heard them tell her that they wanted her, needed her even. But Joel is the first to say these words to her, and she doesn’t think she’d like to hear them from anyone else, ever. She nearly laughs when the thought crosses her mind that, really, she’s under his spell.
“I love you, Joel. I do, I love you.” Yes, it has to be magic, the way his eyes crinkle up, a smile he wouldn’t give to anyone else, the strength of his palms still so soft along her jaw as he guides her lips to his. And they get to have this, all of this, for as long as they both want it. She hopes for a long time, if not forever.
It’s a messy affair, lips only parting for quick gasps of breath, eyes barely glancing away as they make a stumbling path for his bed. She can’t help the laugh that bubbles up, breaking their kiss when they fall in a graceless tangle onto the mattress, a quick twist of limbs that has her straddling his hips, palms splayed out on his chest as she looks down at him. For a moment, all she wants is to look at him looking at her, the little tilt of his head, amusement rounding his cheeks as his fingers squeeze and flex where they’re curled around her hips.
“Staring ain’t very polite, darlin.”
“Neither is being a smartass, baby.” The laugh he lets out is more of a disbelieving huff and she’s quick to swallow it, dipping down and bringing them back together in a kiss that stings sweet, teeth scraping skin as her fingers skitter down the buttons of his shirt. Her mouth follows her hands, meeting every new inch of exposed skin with a drag of kisses, and when he sits up just enough to shrug out of the sleeves of his shirt, she can’t help but nip at the soft swell of his stomach, eliciting a grumble from him.
“What’s that about, huh?” She grins against his skin, palm splaying in the middle of his chest to push him back flat on the mattress, nosing at the trail of hair just below his navel.
“I happen to really like this part of you, that’s all.” The quirk of his brows at her words makes her laugh, simply leaving another smattering of kisses over his belly in response as she works open his belt.
She learned early on that Joel’s something of a giver, always wanting to be the one in control, the one who decides what and when and how, and it only makes it more satisfying when she gets him like she has him now, giving it all up to her. A quiet “hips up, baby” is all it takes to get his jeans shimmying down his legs, tugging them off before settling back between his legs, her palms resting on the tops of his thighs.
“You look perturbed.”
“You’ve still got a lot of clothes on, darlin.” He says it with a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, sitting up on his elbows to look at her as she peels her shirt off over her head. But that’s all she’ll give him for now.
“Lay back down, Miller, I wasn’t done with you.” His grumble dies in his throat when she slips her fingers under the waistband of his boxers, nails grazing the soft skin there. That gets him on his back real fast. She supposes she’s teased him enough, tugging his boxers off with little fanfare, his cock resting flushed and hard against his stomach.
She knows what he likes. He likes her eyes on him when she lets her tongue drag along the underside of his length, and he likes it a touch messy, spit pooling in the corners of her lips when she takes him into her mouth. He likes when her nails graze over his belly, holding him still as she works him over, taking him into her mouth as far as she can before pulling back to lap at his swollen tip. She likes all the little sounds she can coax out of him, harsh breaths turning into clipped grunts that eventually give way to moans thrumming low in his chest as she continues her ministrations.
“I– Jesus– that mouth of yours– gotta– gotta stop, honey. I can’t– I want you. Want you now.” With that, he sits up, fingers tucked under her chin to coax her up for a devouring kiss before his hands fall to the button of her pants. His mouth doesn’t stray far from her skin, grazing over the tops of her breasts as he works her out of her remaining clothes, a close shuffle that leaves her just as bare as he is, coaxing her thighs to frame his hips. He holds her steady, hands an insistent bruise on her hips as her cunt drags over his length, a heady pull that has her nails digging into his chest.
“Shit, darlin– you ready for me? Wanna take it like this?” It always makes her brain stutter to a stop, the absolute mouth he has on him, usually such a gentleman, so quiet, suddenly turned sharp and demanding. It’s obvious to her that he doesn’t realize what kind of effect his words have, only earnest anticipation in his eyes as he looks up at her, and it only makes the heat grazing up her spine raise another pitch. He’s all soft murmured encouragement, palms a steady sweep up her thighs, the curve of her ass, fingers firming up on her hips as she guides his cock to her entrance.
Relax for me, darlin, that’s it.
Fuck, that’s good. You’re so good like this.
Move for me, honey. Just like that, so fucking perfect.
It’s a brilliant mingling of sighs, clipped moans with every pass of her hips, Joel bending his knees and planting his feet into the mattress to meet each bounce with his own thrust. His eyes are a hot drag on her skin, the pull of his gaze trailing every curve before sweeping back up to her face. She’s trailing along the edge of too much, so full of him that each tilt of her hips has her gasping with the way his cock is spreading her open, grazing so deep every time she sinks back down. But when he brings one hand to rest at the crux of her thigh, fingers smearing a sloppy rhythm into her clit, too much washes over her like a wave, spine curling in an arc of pleasure until her chest is pressed close against his, face buried in the juncture of his neck as she mouths a quiet cry into his skin. His hands draw a slow circuit up her spine, keeping her full, but not moving as she crashes down around him.
“I’ve got you, easy, easy, I’ve got you, darlin.” A kiss to her temple coaxes her face out from his neck, hazy smiles shared between barely brushing lips.
They move like liquid. He stays, warm and throbbing inside her, as he turns them over, his hips slotting between her thighs, forearms framing her face. There’s no use for words. She gives him a nod and a kiss to the corner of his mouth, enough communication for him to slip back into movement, hips a steady and strong roll into hers. He’s beautiful like this, a pink flush creeping up his chest into his cheeks, his brow pulled down in pleasure, eyes a continuous wave from her face down to where she’s taking all of him over and over again. And it’s her turn to coax, to murmur, to press and press and press until he cracks.
Feel so full, baby. Always fill me up so perfect.
So good like this, Joel. Doing so good for me.
I want it, baby. Want it so bad. Let go for me, please.
He comes with a crackled groan, her name leaving his lips on a punched out exhale as he curls over her, spend smearing warm over her stomach. She props herself up on an elbow, her hand on his jaw drawing him down for a kiss shared between harsh breaths.
“Was that– was that good for you?”
“You’re always good for me, Joel.”
…
Her overalls are back, hanging off the corner of his bathroom door. There’s a stack of her books on his nightstand, thick tomes full of latin names he won’t even attempt to pronounce. And her plants are back too, she and Ellie hauling them over one afternoon, shuffling back and forth between her old house and theirs. A few pieces of her furniture made the move as well. A dark blue armchair that now sits in the living room, what has become Stevie’s designated lounging area. A cabinet that had been a bitch for them to move, huffing and puffing across town, Joel nearly throwing his back out with the effort, though his reward that night had been worth it. And a high-backed bureau now sits in the corner of his bedroom, a spot he finds her sitting at most mornings before they both head out for work, writing meticulous notes about the people she cares for.
“Gonna see you over lunch today?” He can feel the curl of her smile where his lips rest against her cheek, and she turns around on her stool to steal a proper kiss from him.
“Mmhmm, I’ll be there. I’m guessing I’m gonna have to share with you again, huh?”
“Well, if you’re offering I ain’t gonna turn you down.” He didn’t get to have her laugh for a while there, and now whenever she does give it to him, it’s like he tries to gather it up in his mind, every crackling smile, every tilt of her head, every peel of relief committed to memory.
“Fine, but I’m not leaving tomatoes off this time. You’ll just have to eat around them.”
“I guess I can live with that.” Another smacking kiss before he pulls away to let her stand up.
“You gonna walk me out, Miller?”
“That’s the least I can do, darlin.”
No more whispers, no more stares, they move through town easily now, first walking Ellie to school, who tells her and Stevie that she’ll be around the shop this afternoon before offering Joel a clipped “later, old man.” But he doesn’t even have time to be annoyed by it, not when his woman is taking his hand and tugging him along toward her shop.
She still moves a bit tentatively, glancing over her shoulder at him as she unlocks the front door before stepping inside, her shoulders a slight hunch as she moves through the shop. He’s been keeping her company in the mornings before his own shifts, staying out of her way but close enough that he hopes it eases some of her worry.
“Ellie’s already asking me about Halloween, you know.” His brows raise at her words, watching her rest her elbows on the butcher block across from him.
“Is it– is it an important day for your, uh, your people?” Though he can see the amusement in her eyes at his stumbled-out question, she spares him any teasing, lazily stirring her tea before letting the spoon rest in the mug.
“Mmhmm, though we call it Samhain, not Halloween. I’ll tell you more about it when it gets a little closer.” They’ve figured out a gradual give and take, when to ask and when to answer, when to let things rest and when to reveal a bit more, and Joel can tell she’s making such a calculation in her head right now, offering him an easy smile. But his attention is drawn down to her mug, spoon now languidly stirring all by itself, though she’s quick to catch it, bringing her palm over the rim of the cup, her smile turning sheepish as his eyes widen at her.
“That– how– how am I just seeing that now?” That makes her laugh.
“I may have been trying to hide that particular, uh, quirk. Didn’t want to freak you out too much.”
“Darlin, at this point, I don’t think you could freak me out if you tried.”
.............................
taglist: @boofy1998 @misspascaliverse @jasminedragoon @beskarandblasters @daddy-din @subconsciouscollapse @avidreader73 @pedgeitopascal @littlelou22 @wannab-urs @hannahlupinblack @whoiscaroline @leeeesahhh @str84pedro @mumma-moonchild @disregardedplant @mxtokko @igloo71 @secretdazeobservation @eddie-munson-dungeon-master @cressida-clearwood @mydailyhyperfixations @mingeniee @the-ginger-hedge-witch @delicious-collection @gab-thelamb-onthemoon @thereaperisabitch @lunxramour @jupiter-sky @parrotpeggy @abbiesxox @nerdreader @ssa-raye @vermillionwinter @jksprincess10 @jordycat-2018 @lavenderkee @hungryforbatboys
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#tlou#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller angst#the last of us#joel miller fluff#joel miller smut#apothecary#joel miller series#joel miller au#joel miller fic
378 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have some thoughts re: Kayne / godhood (spoilers for intermezzo)
I don't think Kayne respects any of the other gods. He definitely doesn't respect the King in Yellow, he knocked him over the head w/ an oversized mallet to give him amnesia and stuck him in Arthur's head and reduced the Dreamlands to "a lawless waste" for a laugh. He also destroyed his city for the hell of it. He doesn't fucking care. He's rude to John, ignores him, says 'Arthur' when referring to both of them. I thought I noticed this undercurrent of quiet animosity, but felt vindicated during 40 + Intermezzo b/c he was suddenly soooooo loud! Ignoring & talking over John? Check. Telling him he's not special like Arthur? Check. Saying he'll torture him worse than Arthur just because he can? Check. My theory is it's b/c John's still a god, technically. Like the whole, choosing your own name + path... you'd think would be something Kayne could sympathize with (as much as Kayne can feel sympathy), but...........no. He knows John is easier to manipulate w/ fear (he can send him back to the Dark World w/ a snap of his fingers), and saves his faux sympathy for Arthur.
I think this is b/c he likes humans. Sure, he also likes killing them, but I don't think those impulses are mutually exclusive. Kayne's the most "human" of the gods we've met. He talks like a human, makes pop culture references, looks passingly human, etc. I think he envies them, in a way? They have a freedom I think he lacks as a god, even though they are confined to one timeline. We still don't fully understand how gods work, but from his description alone it sounds like he thinks of them as limited. They have incredible power compared to mortals, they exist outside the piano... but are confined to a single key. Which sounds to me like their path is predetermined and they're not intended to develop free will. Kayne's an anomaly b/c he does, or tries to.
He wants to put humans in an antfarm, perhaps as a demonstration of his free will. That's all Carcosa was, right? An antfarm. He wanted to play godzilla, smash the ants. Arthur's another ant in a different farm, and he watched his entire life play out across several verses to try to figure him out. What makes him unique is he dies in every other verse. Kayne can't figure out what makes this Arthur so special that he survives when all the others don't, but it implies he did something right with his free will, that this version is an "anomaly" like Kayne. He respects that, b/c it means this version of Arthur has done the same thing he has: taken control of their narrative. Even Kayne choosing his own name is an example of that. Becoming Kayne, rejecting the title Nyarlathotep and all the baggage that comes with it, the expectation to be what his father wants, a messenger for the outer gods (although he may still want that, I expect whatever his intentions are re: the Black Stone, they're his, not Azathoth's).
Arthur is usually a mirror for character's to see their humanity reflected, but instead of seeing his humanity (b/c he has none), Kayne looks at Arthur and sees himself. Which... surprised me? He seems so confident in his godhood, I thought he just viewed Arthur as his fave toy or human, like even in the S4 finale I found it hilarious how he kept going: "why can't you all just be more like Arthur???" apropo of.....nothing, but he didn't treat him like someone he identified with, so it caught me off-guard when he compared himself to Arthur, but that's big for a god! and I think it supports my thesis he envies humans for their freedom. Their roles aren't as "established" as a god's. Humans have free will, something he had to kill every other version of himself to gain. Even then, I think absorbing his alts (???) or whatever he did after killing them to become more powerful fucked him up, may have driven him mad if he wasn't already when he started this exercise in defending-himself-from-ever-getting-deleted, like he doesn't sound okay when he's talking to himself.
TLDR: Kayne thinks Arthur's special b/c he lived, when all the other Arthur's in Kayne's Arthur-Killing-Experiment died! (: Kayne can't figure out why, but he likes not knowing why. He likes humanity b/c of their freedom, b/c he's a chaos god who wants as much freedom as possible. And he's aware gods are fallible, they can be deleted, which takes all the romance out of godhood. Kayne's the most powerful god we've met b/c he's taken steps to emulate humanity's free will, the thing that makes Arthur "special," but what makes Arthur "hard to see" is probably his humanity. As much as Kayne likes humanity, I don't think it's something he can truly understand, which is why he enjoys sticking humans full of pins and trying.
I think it's neat Malevolent prizes humanity over godhood. Even gods seem to value humanity over godhood. John wants to become human. Yellow wants acceptance from a human. I think Kayne holds humans in higher esteem than gods. Those who look down on humans or try to 'ascend' and leave behind their humanity, like Larson, are clearly in the wrong. It's not seen as a weakness to be human, and even the parts of humanity that are usually written off as a weakness (our rage, grief, violence, desperation, etc...) are viewed as strengths in Malevolent, and I fucking love that about this show.
Anyway, I'll, uhh, shut up now.
#malevolent spoilers#malevolent#sorry if this doesn't make sense#I just think mad malevolent gods are neat (:#(rambles incoherently for six paragraphs) this could have been a tweet#kayne malevolent
55 notes
·
View notes
Text
Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N Series CH 22 -> CH 23
Tagging:@roryculkinluvr@thatsthewrongwallcraig@icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06@shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver@ophelialaufey @mayathepsychic1999 @x-prettyboy-x @rorylover71 @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27
TW: Mutual Masturbation, Fingering, Jerking Off
Jack had gone home and practically paced waiting for Y/n to call. He knew she wasn't coming around until later but he was excited to spend time with her. He watched the clock and tried to work on a few pages to pass the time but once he heard the knock at the front door, he practically broke his foot trying to run down the steps.
"Hey! Sorry I'm late, I didn't want to come straight over in my scrubs." Y/n let herself in and looked freshly showered but exhausted.
"That's fine, we can play it low key tonight and actually go out when you get a day off." Jack smiled gesturing towards the living room. She plopped down on one side of the couch and Jack followed suit on the opposite end. He had already ordered food and told her to get comfortable. She noticed he had his laptop sitting on the coffee table and gestured towards it.
"How's the writing going?" She asked kicking her shoes off so she could rest her feet on the couch next to Jack's leg.
"It's going pretty well, I had to keep myself busy today so I got a few pages written." Jack confessed making Y/n smile.
"Can I read some of it?" She asked carefully. Jack hesitated for a moment before passing her the laptop. He watched her read the pages, taking a mental note of her eyes scanning the words and chewing on her lip.
"Jack...this is really good. I mean it's dark as hell and I know it's supposed to be about your life but it's really good." Y/n looked up from the laptop and Jack's eyebrows went up.
"You think so? I mean it's a first draft but-" Y/n leaned the screen down to look at Jack.
"Shut up and take the compliment." She moved to sit next to him and scrolled through his pages to point things out
"I love how the story teller is framing these events in his life as small signs of what's to come. As if his path was predetermined by the actions of his father, an avalanche of tragedy." Jack just stared at her in amazement. He moved towards her to kiss her but the sound of the doorbell stopped him. Y/n laughed realizing he was going to kiss her.
"Should have ordered the food a little sooner." She smirked. He pushed up from the couch and grabbed the food. They fell into comfortable conversation about random things from the book to the chaos his appearance at her work caused. Jack had no regrets and was glad that there were people who kept her mind on him throughout the day.
"You're such a cocky punk. You knew my boss was going to eat you up with a spoon." Y/n shoved Jack with her foot and he caught it with his hands.
"How could I possibly know your boss was an older woman? I just do really well with older women." Jack bragged rubbing her feet. He could see that it was providing relief and kept massaging her foot.
"Now you're just distracting me with a nice...foot massage. Fuck your hands are strong." She hissed.
"Am I hurting you?" He stopped and she narrowed her eyes at him.
"No it feels great, don't stop." Jack laughed continuing to rub her feet.
"This is not what I thought I would be doing for you to say that." Jack teased. Y/n let out a laugh and rested her head on the back of the couch to look at him.
"Yeah? I take it the new meds are treating you well?" Y/n asked making Jack nod.
"I haven't started them yet. I'm afraid I won't be able to get off now if I change them now." Jack explained and Y/n shook her head.
"I can always take my shirt off if you're feeling repressed. Don't sacrifice your sanity and sleep for an orgasm, Jack." She sat up on her elbows and he laughed.
"Honestly I'm not even sure it would work if I tried to fuck anyone. For now, it works for me exclusively." Jack felt comfortable talking to Y/n about these sorts of things. He didn't know if it was because he was attracted to her or if it was because they had talked openly about the medications.
"Well then lets test it out." Y/n pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. Jack stopped rubbing her feet, allowing her to pull her legs back towards herself so she could unbutton her jeans and slid them just below her ass.
"Does this make you uncomfortable?" Y/n asked partially exposed. Jack could feel his dick stiffen and he shook his head, unbuttoning his jeans and show her the tent that was in his boxers.
"Not anymore." He said rubbing his cock on top of the fabric.
"You might want to take your shirt off...in the event you cum, I'd hate for you to stain one of your emo shirts." Y/n teased putting her fingers in her mouth. Jack can see her pussy as she pushes her panties to the side to finger herself. One hand pinched her nipples as she continued to play with her clit. He was so hard now, all he could do was stroke himself. Watching Y/n's fingers move in and out of her glistening pussy made him think about what it would feel like to have her ride him right here on the couch, her tits bouncing in his face as she fucked herself on his cock. He groaned freeing his cock, spitting on his hand and mixing that with the precum on the tip so he could have the feeling of skin to skin contact.
"Your cock looks even better when its hard. I fucking knew it would." Y/n bit her lip adding a third finger and letting her head fall back.
"Fuck..you can't...you can't say shit like that or I'm going to cum entirely too soon." Jack complained stroking himself faster.
"I wasn't aware we were being timed. I'm going to get off, when I get off." Y/n laughed watching Jack's chest rise and fall trying to catch his breath.
"Fuck I want to cum on your tits so bad." Jack said jaw dropping slightly staring at her tits bouncing with her rigorous hand movements. She used her free hand to pop the front of the bra open letting her tits spill out.
"Oh fuck." Jack moaned. He couldn't help but want to bury his face between them. Y/n continued to whine loudly and Jack wanted to be the one who pulled those sounds from her.
"Don't be shy Jack. I want to hear you." Y/n begged.
"I want to fuck you into this couch. I want to cum inside of you until it's running down your legs. I want to feel you cum around my cock." Y/n moaned Jack's name as she found her release, rubbing her clit and making her knees jump together as she pushed herself to keep touching sensitive bits. Jack could feel his orgasm building, eyes shut trying to get there. He was afraid if he got distracted he would embarrass himself and be unable to cum.
"Jack...open your eyes and look at me. I want you to look at me when you cum. I want you to know that the next time you cum, it will be down my throat." Jack watched Y/n take her wet fingers and put them in her mouth.
"Fuck!" Jack cried milking his cock until he was cumming all over the front of his shirt, almost hitting his neck. He slowed his hand down, feeling the jump of the sensitive tip as he grazed it.
It was silent for a few moments as they both looked at each other and started laughing.
"You're a fucking freak." Jack shook his head.
"And you love every second of it." Y/n stuck her tongue out at him.
"You also should have taken your shirt off." She reminded him pointing at the cum that was already starting to dry on his black shirt. She leaned forward to crawl towards him on the couch and Jack worried she might try to go for a second round.
"No worries, I'm not pushing the boundaries. I just wanted to give you something." Y/n leaned forward and kissed Jack carefully not to startle him of make him anxious. She let her tongue run along his own before pulling away.
"I wanted to say thanks and congratulations on the orgasm. It was great." She smiled in his face and he returned it.
"I also wanted to give you a little taste of what you're in for if you're down for a second date." Jack could taste her on his tongue and nodded.
"Is the first date already over?" He asked curiously and she laughed putting her head down for a moment.
"I don't want to make you feel cheap but if I don't go home now, I'll be too tired to walk home." She explained. Jack knew how tired she was and this probably only made it worse.
"It's okay. I completely understand." Jack put himself back in his jeans and watched Y/n pull her shirt over her head, not bothering to put her bra back on. He walked her to the door and she turned to look at him.
"This was a lot of fun Jack. I'm glad I said yes to a first date." Y/n smiled sweetly at him and he blushed.
"I'm pretty glad you said yes too. Let me know when you get home." Jack said rolling his eyes knowing that she was going to make a smartass remark about being across the street. She kissed his cheek and gave his hand a squeeze before walking out the door. Jack watched her walk down the drive and towards her house before shutting the door and running his hands down his face trying to take in what had just happened. He couldn't help but smile thinking about the night as a whole. He hadn't remembered having that much fun in one night with someone ever. He ran his hands down his shirt and felt his cum streak down his shirt more.
"Dammit." He cussed at himself knowing this shirt wasn't ruined but knowing he would get hard every time he wore it.
#Jack Thurlow#Jack Goes Home#Jack Thurlow x Y/n#One Shot Series#Glass Houses Series#Rory Culkin#Culkin Cult#Glass Houses#22/38
72 notes
·
View notes
Text
you, the ocean, and me (pt. 1) - jj maybank
summary: jj is determined to put a smile on your face during your two-week trip to the obx, but what happens when fun turns into something more?
word count: 13.7K
warnings: cheating + terrible parents
a/n: this is set a few years in the future, assuming everyone is in their 20s. it's a slow burn, so it gets off to a slow start, but picks up quickly, i promise! i linked a couple of songs in here that are mentioned, only listen if you want to cry your eyes out with me.
You gazed wearily out the window as the pilot announced that the plane had begun its descent into the Outer Banks. Despite your warring emotions, you had to admit that the bum little beach town looked beautiful from above, the sky casting the shoreline in an orange glow.
Your mom squeezed your hand from the seat beside you, "This is going to be just what you need, sweetie" she said, "I promise."
You highly doubted that.
You had reluctantly agreed to spend two weeks with her here. A last-ditch effort to stop your life from rolling right off its tracks, in her eyes at least. You didn't know how a sleepy beach town on the coast of North Carolina was supposed to make you forget the three-carat diamond that weighed heavily on your ring finger, the text messages you had found on your fiancé's phone nor the fact that your family insisted you move forward with the marriage anyway. No, you were pretty damn sure there weren't enough Mai Tais in the world to make you forget all of that. As the plane dropped further in the sky your heart dropped into your stomach and a wave of nausea passed over you. When did everything become so fucked up?
You had met Carson Peters when you were fourteen. He was the quarterback, you were the captain of the cheerleading team. It was so damn cliché. Looking back at it now, it felt like your whole life was completely predetermined for you. Of course you would date him. Of course you would attend every homecoming, semi-formal and prom with him. Of course you would lose your virginity to him the night before you both left for college, making promises you had intended to keep. Of course he would study business, rapidly making inroads with your father's company. Now, it was only a matter of time until your father retired and passed ownership over to him. So, of course, when Carson Peters asked you to marry him you had said yes. He was all you had ever known, so ingrained in every aspect of your life and your family that the proposal felt like an inevitability you couldn't run from. Every decision was already made for you: You would get married in the same church as your parents, you would have 2-3 children that played soccer or did ballet, you would have a golden retriever, you would spend Friday nights at the country club, Saturdays playing tennis and Sundays volunteering at church. It wasn't a bad life. It was a damned privileged one, one you should feel grateful for. But you didn't. Because it didn't feel like yours. Looking back, you couldn't remember making one choice for yourself. You didn't really have a say in any of this. You were simply the perfect daughter, the glowing bride, a pawn in everyone else's game.
All of that came to a screeching halt two weeks ago.
It was a Friday night. Carson was in the shower and you were touching up your makeup, getting ready for your usual appearance at the country club when his phone chimed on its charger next to the bed. You glanced at it quickly, the noise catching your attention and you saw an incoming text from your best friend Lauren. You were going to meet her and her husband Nick at the club, so thinking she was texting about the plans for the evening, you opened the text. You and Carson didn't have any secrets between you, why would you? You had known each other for almost ten years. You typed in his passcode (your birthday + his old jersey number).
Lauren: Can't wait to see you tonight 😉
Hm. You felt like that was a little out of place, but maybe she was just trying to be nice? Looking back, you can't believe how naïve you were. You realized they had an existing text exchange so you began to scroll up and up and up and finally came across mutually exchanged pictures that caused you to drop the phone, your heart hammering in your chest, mind racing a mile a minute. You were desperately trying to concoct a plausible explanation for what you had just seen, to apply some logic to the situation, to come up with an excuse, any excuse. There wasn't one.
You could hear the shower stop running and you realized you had a decision to make. Do you confront him? Do you act like you didn't see it? There was no way you could sit through dinner tonight knowing what you knew now. You picked up the phone, set Lauren's most recent text to 'unread' and placed the phone back on the charger before telling Carson you weren't feeling well and wouldn't be up for dinner after all. He was visibly annoyed, whether because of the last-minute change of plans or the fact that he wouldn't get to see Lauren, you weren't sure. You undressed and crawled into bed as he went downstairs to watch TV. You cried yourself softly to sleep, sick to your stomach over what you were going to do.
The next morning Carson was thankfully up and out of the house early for a tee time with your father. He left with a quick kiss on your cheek as you lay in bed, grateful that he wouldn't see your splotchy face and bloodshot eyes. You didn't have the energy for a confrontation. You got up and got dressed. Normally this is something you would call Lauren to talk about. Since that was squarely out of the question, you called your mom, asking if you could come over to talk. You always had a good relationship with her despite the fact that she encouraged you (pushed you?) to look a certain way, act a certain way and dress a certain way to maintain the family image and ensure you were set up for a life just like hers.
You didn't take two steps inside her door before she knew something was wrong and you crumbled in her arms, sobs wracking your body as she held you close and rubbed your back. After you were settled at the kitchen counter with a warm cup of tea, you told her everything. Everything everything. She listened patiently and quietly, your hand in hers. Her eyes widened upon hearing the gory details, but she waited to speak until you were through. You could tell she was taking her time to collect her thoughts, to make sure she was saying the right thing, a skill she had taught you well.
"Honey, this doesn't change anything" she said simply. "People make mistakes. Some men have a wandering eye, but you're the one with the ring on your finger! Best not to ruffle any feathers before the wedding. you have a bright future ahead of you, and so does Carson - you two are meant to be! Plus, you know how important this is to your father and to me. You are our only child, we want you to be set for life and with Carson taking over the company, your future will be absolutely secure."
"What part of my fiancé fucking my best friend has me set up for life with a secure future!?" you said harshly, your voice rising.
"Watch your language!" she chided, like you were a child again. "You are getting worked up and blowing this completely out of proportion."
"Oh my god, have you lost your mind? Can you really not see how toxic this is? Can you not see how this impacts me? How this makes me feel?" you said, nearly shouting now.
"Sweetheart, this isn't just about you--"
"THIS IS ABOUT ME! THIS IS MY LIFE!" you shouted finally, rising to your feet. "Forget it. I'm not doing this with you. You can tell dad I'm sorry I ruined your perfect plans, but I'm done. I can't do this, I'm breaking it off."
"Honey, stop! Please. Listen to me. You're not thinking straight. You're emotional, you're upset. I understand that. You need some time to think before you make any rash decisions. Let's get away, just you and me. A couple of weeks, that's all I'm asking, and if you still feel the same way when we get back, then I'll support you."
"Fine" you agreed, knowing there wasn't a damn thing that could change your mind.
The ride from the Kildare airport to your rental property wound through a small but charming town with a surf shop, some small stores and a few restaurants before you crossed onto the wealthier side of the island, coastal mansions lining the shore with expensive cars parked outside. As much as you were harboring resentment at your mother for dragging you here, you had to admit it was beautiful. In any other circumstance you probably would have enjoyed it, eagerly looking forward to two weeks of uninterrupted relaxation, sun and top-shelf liquor. Now, all you wanted to do was drown yourself in tequila and tears.
Your rental home was obscenely large for just the two of you, but your family didn't do anything in half measures so you weren't surprised. Nor were you surprised when your mother announced that you had reservations in an hour at the local country club. You didn't even question it, simply going through the motions of showering, doing your hair and adorning a floor-length dress and heels. Beautiful on the outside, screaming on the inside.
The Island Club was a copy-paste of any number of similar clubs you had been to over the years, replete with overindulgent pompous assholes sporting golf attire and Lily Pulitzer. You supposed you were being hypocritical knowing you were one of those assholes back home, but you let yourself be bitter surrounded by so many people you didn't know. You managed to make it all the way through dinner before your mom excused herself to mix and mingle and "make connections" for the duration of your stay. You couldn't think of anything you wanted to do less, so you grabbed your glass of wine and headed outside to a quiet part of the back patio, leaning out over the balcony to take in the thick, salty ocean air.
It was near the end of his shift and he was itching to get out of there, fidgeting and tugging at the collar of his shirt when he saw you. He had been making his way down a narrow hallway near the patio doors, arms laden with a tub of dishes. You were leaning against the balcony, staring out at the ocean. He could only see your side profile, but he could trace your long lashes and thick lips and the way your hair danced in the summer breeze. You were dressed to the nines in a stunning open-back dress that showed off your sunkissed skin. But it was the look on your face that pulled him in, eyes narrowed, face scrunched like you were trying to solve all the world's problems. Even with a scowl, he thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He realized after a few moments that he wasn't breathing, quickly clearing his throat and looking around to make sure no one had seen him gawking at you like that. He placed the bin of dishes unceremoniously on the floor and wiped his hands on his pants. 'Come on' he thought, trying to pump himself up. 'Stupid things have good outcomes all the time' as he pushed the patio doors open.
You were able to enjoy a few moments of solitude before you heard the woosh of the patio doors open and close behind you and another person came into your peripheral vision. They leaned against the balcony, a respectable distance away. You didn't turn your head, you didn't acknowledge them, you didn't feel like talking to anyone. You bit your lower lip, holding back several snarky remarks, trying to come up with the most socially acceptable way to say "fuck off". You closed your eyes, mustering your energy as you turned - and every word died on your lips.
He was definitely not what you had expected. In fact, he was gorgeous, painfully so, boyishly handsome with tousled blonde hair, nearly white at the tips from the sun, that complimented his tan skin. A laidback smile rested on his lips and his blue eyes twinkled with mischievousness and fun. He was looking at you with a mix of intrigue and something else you couldn't quite put a finger on but that made your heart beat a little faster and brought a blush to your cheeks. He laughed softly, breaking your trance as he said "Drinking wine alone in the dark isn't a great way to meet people."
"Kinda what I was going for" you admitted.
"Oof" he said, covering his heart with his hands like you had delivered a physical blow to him. "Sorry to intrude, it just looked like you could use some company..." he trailed off, hoping for a response, and continuing anyway when he didn't get one. "So, you're here with your mom visiting for a couple of weeks?"
"How'd you know that?" you asked, the surprise evident on your face.
"It's a small club, word travels fast," he said, glancing back inside "And your mom plus a couple of martinis has gotten just about everyone up to speed."
You groaned, leaning back over the balcony, rubbing your temple. "I'm on sabbatical from my trainwreck of a life back home."
"That good, huh?" he replied lightly.
"You have no idea" you sighed.
He laughed, a hint of bitterness evident in his voice, "I could teach a masterclass on fucked up lives, trust me."
And for some reason, you did. It was like your own pain was a radar, able to pick up on other people's agony and despite his pretty face, you could tell this boy had been through his own.
"JJ" he said finally, extending his hand. You took it hesitantly.
"Y/N" you said in reply.
"Y/N" he said, smiling deeply, letting the sound of it linger and melt on his tongue like the first taste of ice cream on a hot day. "Do you want to get out of here?" he said suddenly.
That stopped you in your tracks. You hadn't been propositioned like that in, well, almost ten years. Everyone at home knew who you were and whose you were and that any attempt at something like that was going to be fruitless.
You held up your left hand in response, letting the ring on your finger speak for itself, a sarcastic look on your face telling JJ this was the end of the line.
He felt his heart skip a beat at that, his mind racing with questions and thoughts. Of course she's engaged. Obviously. But why would someone who's about to get married look so miserable? Where is this guy anyway? I wouldn't let her out of my sight. What do I do. What do I do. What do I do.
"Whoa" he said, not missing a beat despite the cacophony in his head. "I'm not asking you to move in with me, princess. You look miserable and I know a place that's a hell of a lot more fun that this."
The thought of running off with this boy sparked something deep inside you, like someone trying to flick on a lighter- flick flick flick - before your rational mind took over.
"My fiancé--" you started.
JJ looked around mockingly to the left and the right, gesturing to the empty patio "Isn't here" he said simply.
"My mom--" you tried.
"Is enjoying her third martini" he replied, "You can text her and tell her you'll be home by midnight."
"But--" you tried a third time.
"Look, I didn't ask you what your fiancé or your mom or your best friend or anyone else wants you to do. I'm asking what you want to do" he said, extending his hand, "Come with me?" he asked, much more confidently than he felt.
It was the first time in as long as you can remember that you had the freedom and the opportunity to make a decision by yourself for yourself. You reveled in it, letting go of every obligation you had to say no.
You placed your hand in his, meeting his strong gaze, "Let's go."
He led you by the hand down a small set of stairs to a walkway that led directly to the parking lot. You were overwhelmingly grateful for his discretion, both of you knowing better than to parade this situation in front of the onlookers inside. You let go of his hand to type out a quick text to your mom and continued to follow him, so engrossed in trying to word your message that you nearly walked into him as he yanked off his bowtie and vest and loosened several buttons on his shirt. You hit send just as he was handing you something. You registered the helmet in your hands, then the bike in front of you.
"No way" you scoffed "Absolutely not."
"Come on" he said, waving you over, ignoring your comments. You took a hesitant step forward and before you knew what was happening, he was kneeling in front of you, grabbing the hem of your dress and rolling it delicately up your leg, revealing your three-inch heels, your calves, his fingers barely touching you, the featherlight passes sending goosebumps up your legs. As his hands nearly reached your knees, you managed to find your words, "H-Hey what are y-you doing?" you asked, your mind completely disconnected from your mouth at the sensation of his fingers on you. He bunched the dress to one side and tied it in a tight knot.
"Can't have it getting tangled in the wheel" he said cheekily as he straightened up, taking the helmet out of your hands and stepping towards you, both of you nearly chest to chest. He smiled devilishly at the blush on your cheeks before sliding the helmet over your head and reaching to gently snap the straps in place.
He pulled his own helmet on and straddled the bike effortlessly, scootching forward to give you room behind him. You settled in, the sloped curve of the seat sliding you right into him, your thighs resting against his hips, your front flush to his back. You looked around for something anything to hold onto as he revved the engine.
"Please hang on to me" he turned to say, picking up on your defiance of the situation. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, but I also don't want you to die, so it's really the lesser of two evils at this point."
Resigned, you pressed into him, wrapping your hands around his strong core.
"Good?" he asked.
"I think so" you replied hesitantly.
And you were off.
The bike skidded slightly in the gravel, picking up speed as he shot down the driveway at the club.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. You thought to yourself, realizing too late how enormously stupid it was to get on a dirt bike in a dress and three-inch heels with a complete stranger. It sounded like the start to a 48-hour mystery.
And yet.
As JJ navigated the narrow streets confidently, crossing the bridge to the beach, you loosened your death grip just enough to look around and take in the twinkling lights of the homes in the distance, the blink of the lighthouse, the sound of the crashing waves and the warm wind whipping your hair back under the helmet. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath of the salty air and realized you felt surprisingly okay. For the first time since you read those texts the simmering rage and frustration that had been building up inside of you felt more like a warm pot of soup simmering on the stove than a kettle hissing with boiling water. It was contained, manageable.
JJ pulled over amongst a line of other cars and bikes at the beach. As he cut off the engine you could hear the distinct sound of a party, chattering voices, bumping music and you could make out the flickering light of several bonfires as you slid off the bike and pulled your helmet off, frantically trying to untangle your wind-whipped hair. JJ took in your mussed hair, wrinkled dress and rosy cheeks, pink from the adrenaline of the ride and smiled. "You're not going to need those here" he said, pointing to your heels. You slid them off, letting your toes rest in the cool sand as he led the way.
He navigated expertly around the crowd, dodging drunk people, waving to others as they called out to him. He was clearly well-loved and even your brief interaction told you why, his easygoing, laid-back, friendly nature and quick smile were welcoming and inviting, magnetic. It made your fears and anxieties slip away, like as long as you were in his orbit, nothing could go wrong, everything was always good times and sunshine and nothing else mattered. Despite the distractions, wherever he walked, he continued to look back at you to make sure you were still behind him, smiling at you as he waved you forward. You finally found your way to a small bonfire surrounded by a few people that eagerly cheered upon seeing him and tossed him a beer.
He quickly introduced you to his friends and you tried your best to remember their names and nicknames, Kie? Pope? John B (the middle initial seemed very important), Sarah and Cleo. They welcomed you with open arms, literally hugging you, the girls tugging on your dress, overwhelming you with compliments. You weren't sure if it was the booze or if they were always this nice, but you felt immediately at ease. You could tell they were a tight-knit group the way they interacted with each other, a familial casualty in the way they leaned on one another around the bonfire, finished each other's sentences and traded inside jokes. And for the first time in a long time, you just let yourself be. You didn't care that your hair was a tangled mess, that your dress was wrinkled and now covered in sand or that you were drinking Corona. You let the beer and the conversation flow, soaking in the genuine presence of the people around you.
JJ settled on the opposite side of the fire, content to watch you through the flames that lit your face in an orange glow. You already looked like a completely different version of yourself than he had seen on the balcony, like a physical weight had been lifted from your shoulders as you laughed unabashedly. His heart swelled with the thought that he was the reason for the smile on your face. He couldn't tear his gaze away as he looked at you, fidgeting with the label on his beer, barely bringing it to his lips which sat in a permanent smile.
John B looked from his best friend to the new girl and back again. He knew that look on JJ’s face, though he’d never seen it directed at a girl before. It was the same look he’d had the last time they surfed the surge: determination, admiration, desire. It was undeniable. As was the giant ring on her finger. That look and that ring were at odds with one another and he knew he needed to quash this, now.
He nudged JJ and tilted his head away from the group. JJ sighed, hanging his head. He knew this was coming. He stood up, smiling at you quickly before walking away. When he caught up with John B out of earshot, they didn’t dance around the topic at hand.
“What are you doing, man?” John B asked.
“Chillin’, drinkin’ some beers with my friends” JJ replied smartly, taking a long sip of his beer to avoid eye contact.
“You know what I mean, JJ, what are you doing with Y/N?” John B insisted, tone serious.
“I’m just trying to show her a good time” JJ said nonchalantly, shrugging.
“Don’t bullshit me, man” John B said, the frustration in his voice evident, “I see the way you’re looking at her and I also see that rock on her hand. It’s a no-go amigo. Not cool.”
The smirk on JJ’s face disappeared as he grew uncharacteristically serious. He dropped his eyes to the sand, kicking it around with his feet, trying to find a way to put into words what he knew to be true in his heart. She’s not happy. I can make her happy. I know I can make her happy.
“You didn’t see her earlier” he started, eyes downcast, feet continuing to kick the sand around. “She’s miserable, she’s caught up in typical kook bullshit, like she’s never had a day of fun in her life… the look on her face…” he stopped himself, heart clenching at the thought. “I know this is crazy, man, but I don’t think she wants to marry this guy.”
“She said that?” John B said, surprised.
“…Not exactly” JJ replied.
John B huffed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. “So, what? You’re psychic now? C'mon man” he said, urging his friend to see reason.
JJ cast his eyes down again.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt” John B continued. “This isn’t going to end like you think this is going to end. She’s going to have her two weeks of fun and then she’s going to go right back to her kook life and you’ll be left to pick up the pieces.”
JJ shook his head. John B’s words warring with the images in his head that played like a movie, the sorrow on your face as you looked out at the ocean, the way your eyes sparkled in the twinkling lights on the balcony, the blush of your cheeks as he pulled your helmet on, the tug of your arms around his chest and the feeling of you pressed tightly to him. You were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. You knew he was just a bus boy and you agreed to leave with him, you slipped your hand into his, you got on his bike, you’d met his friends. No. There was something there. And he was going to chase it, even if it destroyed him in the process. He clenched his jaw and looked up at John B, determination in his eyes. “I’m doing this. You’re either with me or you’re not, but I’m doing this” he said resolutely.
John B’s heart sank as he sighed deeply. JJ was nothing if not stubborn. It made him loyal at the best of times and rockheaded at the worst of times. It was both his best and his worst quality. “I’m always with you, man” he said, regret already evident in his voice.
JJ’s signature smirk returned to his lips as he tipped his beer forward for a cheers. “To terrible ideas?”
“To terrible ideas.”
The next morning, you rested a cool bottle of water against your forehead as you leaned back in your poolside recliner at the club, hoping to ease the pang of your pounding headache and hangover. Your mom was polite enough not to comment, happy to be in her element after a morning of tennis and a tee time booked later this afternoon as she lay beside you chattering away. You nodded along, inserting comments when necessary as you closed your eyes and let yourself drift back to the night before. It had been so different from your life back home, but so right at the same time. You thought about JJ, his smirk, the goofy stories he told and you found yourself smiling. A pang of guilt resonated deep in your chest. You pushed it down, telling yourself that JJ could be a good friend, nothing more.
"Your drink, m'am" the poolside attendant said, setting down a Corona and pulling you out of your reverie. This caught your mother's attention.
"A beer? Really, Y/N, have some decorum, it's 10:30 in the morning" she said with disdain.
"Thank you" you said kindly to the attendant, trying to defuse the situation, "But I didn't order this." He looked around uncomfortably as he smiled, "It's on the house" he said, before waving politely and making a quick exit.
Your mother tsked and turned her attention back to her magazine when you noticed a slip of paper under the beer.
Marina, 1:00 - JJ
Your heart skipped a beat and a smile crept across your face as you happily took a deep sip of your beer, leaning back in your chair, eyes closed in the sun.
You got to the marina on time. Not really sure what outfit the occasion called for, you settled for your bikini, a flowy top and pair of shorts. You ambled along the aisles of boats, trying nonchalantly to look for the familiar mess of blonde hair as your pulse quickened.
"Y/N!" you heard finally, and turned to see JJ and his friends pulling up in a small boat, waving you toward them. You broke into a big smile as you quickly caught up to them and JJ extended a hand to help you inside. There weren't many places to sit, and JJ beckoned you next to him on a large cooler, barely wide enough for the two of you, your bodies pressed next to each other and backs pressed to the side of the boat as John B hit the throttle and the boat took off. He tore through the channel and marsh grass passed by you on either side in streaks of bright greens and yellows as the hot sun licked your skin. The boat jostled as it made its way into choppier ocean water and as it smacked into a wave, JJ's arm rested protectively behind you, not quite touching you, but near enough that you felt pulled into his presence. You smiled shyly to yourself and avoided eye contact with him.
You ended up anchoring just off a sandbar and as soon as the boat was situated, Pope, Kie and Cleo stripped to their bathing suits and eagerly jumped into the water. Much to your surprise, John B and Sarah were right behind them.
"You coming, princess?" JJ said, standing up and tugging his shirt over his head. You swallowed as you took in his athletic body, muscular arms and chiseled chest. Quickly averting your gaze, you peered into the dark, choppy water, well aware of what could be found in those depths: sharks, jellyfish, stingrays the list went on and on. You opened your mouth to protest but when you turned around JJ was doing a backflip off the other side of the boat. You stood up and walked to the other side as he surfaced, shaking the wet hair out of his eyes with a practiced shake of his head. The others were nearby, swimming and splashing and goofing around but JJ was waiting for you, squinting up at you.
"Come on!" he said encouragingly.
"I don't know" you said hesitantly, eyeing the rough water, fear evident in your voice.
"I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise. It's totally safe" he said, extending a hand.
It wasn't like you had a choice. Get over yourself. You thought, trying to muster up your courage as you unbuttoned your shorts and pulled your shirt over your head.
JJ could just see you over the top of the boat from his vantage point in the water and as you pulled your shirt over your head revealing your bikini-clad body a rush of water flowed into his open mouth and he choked on the salt water, coughing loudly. Geeezus he thought.
"You ok?" you asked, leaning over the boat, your hair tumbling over your shoulders, the angle providing him with another vantage point of your cleavage as you watched him cough loudly.
He mustered a thumbs up before wiping a hand over his face. You were going to be the death of him.
"Come on, princess, before I drown" he shouted teasingly.
You stepped up to the side of the boat, toes nearing the edge. Your heart was pounding with the adrenaline in your veins, fear causing your limbs to shake. You looked down and saw JJ's smile, his hand extended and your heartrate slowed. He was right, if he was there, it was going to be okay. So, you jumped.
The cool water shivered over you, causing your limbs to tingle as you surfaced. You wiped the salt water from your eyes and landed on JJ's gaze, basking in it as he smiled widely at you "Atta girl!" he said proudly, before waving you over to his friends.
A day spent swimming and drinking in the sun had you nearly wiped out on the boat ride home. You laid with JJ alone on the bow, you on your back and he on his stomach, turned to face you, about an arm's length away. Your conversation flowed effortlessly. He asked you about your favorite music, favorite movies, arguing with you good naturedly any time he disagreed with your answer, though you found you actually had a lot in common with each other. You both loved the outdoors, the beach, dogs, Bob Marley and tequila. They were little things, but even little bonds formed fast friendships.
"Favorite ice cream?" he asked.
"Cookie dough, hands down" you said without pausing.
"Mmm yes" he agreed, his voice sleepy and his eyes closed. "I could crush some of that right now." A pause. "What about favorite flowers?"
You turned your head to look at him curiously. That seemed like a sneaky question. His lips curled into a smile but he didn't open his eyes and didn't say anything further.
You smiled, closing your own eyes again as you faced the sun. "Peonies" you said simply.
He laughed. "I literally have no idea what those are."
You laughed back, "They're fluffy, the look like clouds. They come in a few different colors but light pink is my favorite. They're really pretty."
"I'll take your word for it" he said.
"Do I get to ask a question now?" you asked.
"Shoot"
"Okay, favorite way to spend the day?"
"Surfing" he said without pause.
"You surf?" you asked enthusiastically before thinking further. "Well, I guess I should have figured..."
"Hmm?" He said, confused, popping an eye open to meet your gaze as you looked at him.
You gestured up and down his body. "It fits. You know, the whole blonde surfer boy thing?"
He smirked. This was too easy. "You got a thing for blonde surfer boys?"
You laughed dismissively, turning your head away, fighting simultaneous feelings of butterflies in your stomach and the guilt lurking somewhere deeper. "Nice try, JJ. No, I just think it's cool. I always wanted to learn how to surf, but my parents were more interested in me taking up golf and ballet."
A brief pause.
"I could teach you?" he offered, hoping that the excitement and eagerness in his voice weren't too obvious.
You looked back at him. "Yeah?" you said, trying to gauge if he was serious.
"Hell yeah" he said, eyes closing again as he grinned from ear to ear.
You agreed to meet JJ at the beach the next morning for your first lesson, slipping out of your house before your mom was awake. The sand tickled your toes as you made your way to the water, the whole landscape awash with the pink and peach hues of the morning sun, the surrounding quiet but for the crash of the waves and the occasional call of the seagulls and pelicans overhead, not yet tainted by people, like you were in a beach-themed snow globe.
You saw him seated in the sand, boards propped up behind him, waiting for you as he looked out on the ocean. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore the physical reaction your body had to being in his presence. Your pulse quickened with excitement, you felt light on your feet, like you could float right over to him, you were craving his smile, the sound of his laughter, his signature smirk and the way his eyes twinkled when they looked at you. You were chasing that high, that relief of being with him so hard that you didn't want to acknowledge that at the same time you were running from reality. Just let me be here in this moment you thought. Just let me enjoy this you told your guilty conscience. You twirled the ring on your finger. Didn't you deserve a break? Wasn't that the reason you were here?
You quashed your warring emotions as you plopped into the sand beside him, turning to smile at him, greeted with the smile you had been missing that seemed to wash all your fear and anxiety away.
You were eager to learn the basics, more eager to impress your instructor. He was patient and extremely knowledgeable as he walked you through each step. Learning to maintain your balance was hard. Focusing on his words, while he occasionally placed his hands on your hips or on your arms to guide you was even harder. He was always respectful, but he'd have to be an idiot not to realize the way you responded to his warm, calloused fingers, the way your body shifted towards him, magnetized.
You ended the morning seated on your boards, bobbing in the ocean together, watching the sun crest fully over the horizon.
"Thank you" you said quietly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment as you smiled at him.
"'Course" he said, smirking, "You're not bad, princess."
You blushed at his compliment and the now familiar nickname that neither of your acknowledged, but that you couldn't get enough of. "Do you think we could do this again tomorrow?" you asked.
I would do literally anything to spend more time with you. The fact that you're asking me to surf proves to me that you're the girl of my dreams he thought, biting his tongue.
"Absolutely" he said.
So, you woke up for surf lessons with JJ the next morning, and the next morning and the next morning, falling into a routine that became so automatic neither of you had to ask anymore. You jumped out of bed despite the early mornings, eager to start your days in the warm water with JJ and today was no different. You had graduated to trying to stand on your board in the water and were doing a decent job, teetering slightly as he coached you from the water, leaning one arm on his board until an unexpected wave knocked you off and you surfaced next to him, wiping the salt water from your eyes, balancing one arm on your board as you laughed. You realized suddenly how close you were to him and your breath caught at the way he was looking at you. You were close enough to see his blue eyes tracing your face with the same look from the night you first met, intrigue and something else much much deeper, somewhere between pain and longing that had your heart thundering in your chest. You were nearly chest-to-chest now, as you let the waves carry you closer to each other. Your fingers itched to push his damp hair off his forehead. Neither of you spoke, just taking each other in at this close distance, bobbing in the waves, closer than you'd let yourself get on purpose. He opened his mouth to say something when you felt something slither against your foot.
She was on top of him before he knew what the fuck was going on. Screeching and lunging into his grasp about something that touched her foot, her arms thrown around his shoulders, his one arm naturally coming to catch her, to wrap around her and hold her against him as his other rested on his board to keep them afloat. He would have laughed at her reaction if he could remember how to breath. All he could feel was the sensation of her wet, bare body pressed against his, her warm breath on his neck. He could smell her shampoo, could feel her heart beating next to his. It was like his body took over on instinct, pulling her into him, like it was the most natural thing in the world, gently tugging them away.
"Hey, you're alright, it's alright, probably just a fish or some seaweed or something."
He guided you back to shallower waters, immediately regretting it when your feet brushed the sand and you unwound from him, suddenly embarrassed and aware of what you had done.
"Sorry, I don't know why I did that, that just totally freaked me out" you said.
"No worries" he said, casting one last look at you before grabbing your boards and stepping out of the water.
"Want to grab a coffee? My treat?" you asked, scrambling for some way to make up for what just happened.
"Sure" he said, walking with you to a small coffee shop a few blocks from the beach.
"Hot caramel latte with coconut milk, please" you ordered before turning to him. "Uh, iced black coffee's fine for me" he said, nodding at the barista as you paid.
"Why are you drinking hot coffee when it's nearly 90 degrees outside?" he asked, scrunching up his face like he was going to puke, trying to lighten the heaviness of the morning that sat on you like a damp beach towel and feeling much better when he succeeded in making you laugh.
"I don't like when iced coffee melts and it gets all watered down" you shrugged "I've always been that way." You smiled at him before you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You pulled it out to read the caller ID: Carson Peters. Your heart sank so fast in your stomach it was like you had the wind knocked out of you. JJ was watching you closely and could see the way your shoulders slumped, your brow furrowed and your lips turned down. It was like watching a flower wilt, something so beautiful that stood so tall and radiant, deflating, coming apart. His heart hurt to watch it and he wanted to sucker punch whoever was on the other side of that phone.
You looked up at him with doe eyes, "Sorry, I have to take this" you said, and without waiting for a response you stepped outside.
You had been gone for nearly a week without hearing from Carson apart from a few text messages. You didn't know what you hoped to hear on the other end. What if he found out that you knew? What if he was calling to apologize? To beg you to come home? You glanced back at the coffee shop, mind flickering between the boy inside and the boy on the phone. You slid your finger across the screen to pick it up.
"Hi Car" you said, managing to keep your voice calm, eager to hear what he would say. You could hear some muffled noises, like he was rustling around.
"Car?" you asked again.
"Hey! Hey Y/N" he said, out of breath, his voice rushed. "Do you know where my blue sneakers are? I looked in the garage and in the back of the closet..." He rambled on but you had stopped listening. He was calling to ask where his sneakers were? You hadn't talked in almost six days and he was asking about his sneakers? His ignorance and the audacity he had to carry on his mundane, stupid life while you were battling your own future reignited the rage deep within you. You could have screamed as angry, frustrated tears welled up in your eyes.
"They're by the back door, in the basket" you said, interrupting him, your voice quivering with anger. You could hear him padding down the stairs.
"Shit, you're right, there they are, thanks, babe!" he said "You having fun with your mom? You'll be home next weekend, right?"
"Yup" you said cooly. "Look, I've got to go, I'll talk to you later."
"Ok!" He said, missing your tone completely. "Love you!"
Liar. You thought, and hung up.
JJ lay flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he twiddled with the rings on his fingers. He leaned over to glance at his phone: 3:30 AM. He couldn't sleep. His mind was whirling as he thought about how in one short week you had eclipsed his every waking thought, and now his sleep too. He had been drawn to your beauty, which was undeniable. You were perfect in every sense of the word, his body ached at the memory of you pressed against him in the ocean. Honestly, a shark could have bitten his leg off and he would have died a happy man spending his last moment on earth surfing in the sunrise, you latched to him, you wanting his arms around you, to hold you close, to protect you. God how he wanted that with you. More than he'd ever wanted anything, he was sure of that. But what he was feeling was more than physical desire. He loved getting to know you. He loved your personality. He loved how you were willing to try new things and put yourself out there, even though he knew it scared you. Riding dirt bikes and jumping in shark infested waters, you were braver than you gave yourself credit for. Perhaps more than anyone had ever given you credit for. Which is why he couldn't understand the last piece of your puzzle. He was pretty sure that phone call was from your fiancé, but why did you look so miserable? Why couldn't you just break things off if he didn't make you happy? Why can't she just be with me instead? he thought. If that was what you really wanted, he knew you were brave enough to do it, but did you? He flopped over and pulled his pillow over his head.
That Sunday night found you back at the Island Club for dinner with your mom. This time, she had eagerly invited several couples to join you and they spent the whole night discussing politics and humble bragging to each other. You smiled, nodded and laughed at all the right times like the circus animal you were tamed to be, each comment grating on you more and more until your eyes caught something over the shoulder of the woman across from you: a mop of blonde hair peeking out from the hallway, a hand waving wildly to get your attention and pointing to the back door while also trying to be subtle and failing miserably. You blushed deeply and laughed, trying too late to cover it up, which caught your mom's attention and halted conversation at the table. "I'm so sorry, will you please excuse me?" you said, standing up and walking to the back door without waiting for a response.
You pushed outside and looked around for JJ. There were people everywhere with some sort of event going on, a DJ mixed a sweet soundtrack that drifted out over the ocean in the background. You spotted him in the back corner of the balcony, near where you had first met.
"Oh my god, thank you" you said, exhaling loudly. "If I had to listen to Mr. Wheeler's play-by-play of his round of golf today any longer, I was going to pass out."
JJ laughed and nodded towards the beach, "My shift isn't over for another hour, but wanna go for a walk?"
You nodded eagerly, following him down the stairs and making your way to the beach, tugging off your heels and letting your toes sink into the cool sand.
You walked in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the DJ and the ocean as you quietly began humming the song that had just come on, one of your favorites, a summer classic, dancing in the moonlight.
You caught JJ shimmying to the beat next to you, which made you laugh. He caught your eye, smiling wide at your reaction and started dancing in earnest, moving his hips and arms in time with the beat. What you thought would be goofy ended up being impressive and undeniably attractive, he had moves and your eyes twinkled as you took him in, laughing and clapping, cheering him on when he reached out to grab your hand and pull you along with him, the two of you dancing, jumping and singing as he twirled you around to the beat. It was effortlessly fun. You didn't care about looking silly next to him and the way he was looking at you boosted your confidence tenfold. You both laughed harder as he spun you around once more, dramatically, as the song came to an end. You were both breathless, smiling at each other, your hand still wrapped in his as the next song faded in.
It was a slow song and it was like the minutes slowed in time with the beat as he squeezed your hand gently and pulled you into him, raising your hand in his while his other rested respectfully at your midback in a slow dance position. Neither of you said anything. It felt natural, easy, unforced, like everything did with him. You didn't have to think as you slipped your arm around his shoulder and let your head rest on his chest as he swayed you back and forth. You let your eyes flutter closed as you listened to the lyrics.
When the time is up and the sun it dies
'Til the rivers flood and the ocean dries
Hand in hand under the falling sky
I will love you...
The song was ethereal and beautiful and the lyrics tugged at your heart. You could feel tears pinprick your eyes without warning.
So many say it and it's all a lie
But I will love you...
The lyrics sounded like wedding vows and you nuzzled deeper into JJ's chest, drinking in the comforting smell that was distinctly him, the feeling of his arm around you, holding you to his chest and you let yourself imagine what it would be like to say these things to someone and mean them. To say them to someone you felt them for. To say them to someone you picked, instead of someone that was simply predestined for you.
You hadn't let out a sound, but as with so many other things between you, JJ could sense your feelings. He let your hand go, bringing both arms around, pulling you deeper in to him, resting his head on top of yours, whispering your name, a plea, a prayer, a question that you weren't ready to answer. As you continued to sway he let himself imagine what it would be like to say these things to you. To say everything he wanted to say to you, freely, without guilt or shame or fear of what you might say or not say back to him.
Before the song could fade out, the ocean crashed beside you, rushing up to soak your feet unexpectedly and you pulled away as the cool water brought you back to reality. You grabbed the hem of your dress, wiping discretely at the tears on your face as you looked up at JJ, his eyes on you, mouth parted like he wanted to say something, a look on his face you hadn't seen before. He was normally so happy, so carefree, but he was stone serious as he reached out a hand to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ears.
"JJ" you whispered, your eyes closing as his fingers brushed your cheek.
He pulled his hand back.
"Let's get you back, princess" he said quietly, "Don't want them to send a search party." You didn't miss the somber look on his face as he slung his arm over your shoulder like nothing had happened.
You lay flat on your bed, staring up at the ceiling as you twirled the ring on your finger. You leaned over to glance at your phone: 2:30 AM. You couldn't sleep. Usually, you crashed into bed after you spent your day surfing and soaking up more sun and Corona than you could remember, but the knowledge that you were heading home to face reality in just a few days had you tossing and turning. What you knew in your mind and what you wanted in your heart raging an endless battle that was tearing you apart. You knew that your parents had painstakingly planned every aspect of your life to be set up for success. A life with Carson meant wanting for nothing. You would have everything at your fingertips: a house, a car, designer clothes and five-star vacations, seven-bedroom rental homes and country clubs. You would want for nothing, except love and affection. Your heart told you that you had thought you had loved Carson, thought you knew what love was before you had come here, before you met JJ. Love wasn't houses and cars and a carefully planned future. Love was stolen glances over a bonfire, safe arms when you were scared, hugs when you were sad, barefoot dances on the beach, your name on his lips. Love was being scared of something and doing it anyway. And you had never been more scared in your life. You flipped over, pulling your pillow over your head.
The next morning it was like nothing had happened the night before, you and JJ falling into your casual but flirty familiarity during your morning surf session. You were both seated on your boards bobbing with the waves next to each other when JJ nudged you and pointed a little further down the shoreline in the water. You covered your eyes, squinting when you saw a burst of water and a dolphin crested the waves. You squealed with delight as you realized it was a whole school of dolphins, maybe 6 or 8, headed your way. You both watched in reverence as they swam closer, circling around you, maybe 10 feet away. You had never experienced anything like that in your life, your head turning every which way to take them in before looking at JJ and laughing.
Your joy was contagious and he laughed with a knowing smile. "They're good luck, you know" he said. You turned to him, curious. "They symbolize guidance, fun and freedom" he continued "And typically mean that good fortune is on its way." He looked around smugly before saying under his breath "...I'll take all the good luck I can get..." as he began to paddle in. The weight of his words not lost on you as you followed him.
That night you eagerly recounted the story to your mom, gushing over the amazing experience of being so close to such beautiful animals. She smiled and squeezed your hand, "I'm so glad you've had a chance to relax. I told you this is just what you needed" before changing the subject tactfully. "The wedding planner called to confirm the last security deposit has been settled for the venue and the band."
Your head snapped up at her, surprised.
"Mom" you started, your voice heavy with tension and trepidation.
"Y/N, this has been a great vacation. You've had your fun and that's what's important, but it's time to start thinking about reality."
The realization hit you and you could feel the dread and anxiety seeping over your body like someone had cracked an egg on your head. It oozed over you, sticky, thick and suffocating. Your family had no intention of letting you break off your engagement. This was a distraction as they continued to weave their web of deceit around you. Your mom had continued planning the wedding this whole time.
You stood up, shaking with the sudden urge to run, the need to be physically anywhere but here. "I'm going out" you said suddenly, grabbing a sweatshirt and your phone as you started walking toward the front door, ignoring your mother's pleas as you slammed it behind you and ran down the steps into the street, letting your feet create the distance you needed.
Hot, angry tears burned in your eyes and ran down your face as your fingers scrambled to your phone, dialing JJ's number before you could think more about it.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and stood to his feet when he saw your name on the caller ID. It was late, later than you'd ever called him before. He danced on the balls of his feet, trying to think of the best way to answer before swiping to pick up the call.
"Hey, princess!" he said, kicking himself for how desperate and eager he sounded.
"Jayj?" you said, your voice a strained cry and his smile immediately dropped, his feet moving on autopilot towards the front door. You weren't okay. "Can you come get me?" you asked.
"I'm on my way" he said, sprinting to a run as he hopped on his bike.
He found you walking on the side of the road a few blocks from the beach, killing the engine on his bike and tipping it into the dirt, not bothering with the kickstand as he ran up to you. You reached your arms up and he pulled you into a deep hug, nearly lifting you off your feet as his arms wrapped tightly around you, his head buried next to yours as you began to cry anew. His heart clenched, a physical pain in his chest as he felt the pain rolling off of you, squeezing you tighter like he could pull it out of you and take it on himself. He didn't try to quiet you down or ask questions, he just let you cry, rocking you side to side, rubbing your back. The sweetness of his touch making you cry even harder.
"I can't do it, JJ" you whispered, muffled in his shirt. His heart hammered in his chest. Did he hear you right? Can't do what? What is she talking about?
"I don't want to marry him, I can't marry him" you said, speaking the words you had felt in your heart but hadn't dared let yourself think or say out loud until now. His heart was beating so hard he was sure you could feel it. If it wasn't for the current circumstances he would have leapt into the air, fist pumped and thrown it in John B's face. He pulled away to look at you and you quickly covered your face with your hands in shame and embarrassment as you tried to wipe the away your tears.
"Come on" he said, putting his arm around you and walking you towards the beach. He needed a damn minute to think.
Your tears turned into sniffles which had turned into ragged breaths by the time you reached the beach, making your way towards the ocean, leaning heavily on JJ as he held onto you.
You walked along the water in silence as you tried to catch your breath and think of what to say. You only had one day left and it felt like if you started talking now even that wouldn't be enough time to say everything you needed to say. You stopped abruptly and turned to him. It was now or never.
"I come from a lot of money, JJ. My family, my dad, our company, it's sort of a big deal where I come from" you squirmed with embarrassment, but knew he needed to hear the whole truth. "My fiancé - Carson-" you squirmed again. Saying his name here, with JJ, in this sacred place felt so wrong, sour on your tongue, but you pushed through, "-He's taking over the company. It's all arranged as part of our engagement, our wedding, so that it stays in the family. If I don't marry him, then we don't have a plan for the business when my dad retires. Carson has been working there for years now, they've already developed a succession plan, put out the press releases..." you continued to spiral, babbling on about the business, the consequences, like you were trying to convince yourself, maybe even convince JJ why this wasn't such an easy decision. You looked up at him and your heart sank at the complete confusion on his face. "You don't get it" you said, disappointed.
"Oh, I'm following you" he reassured you "but I haven't heard you say one thing about what you want. I hear loud and clear what your dad wants, what-" he grimaced, head cocked in anger "he wants" refusing to say your fiancé's name, "But, what about you?"
Your mind echoed back to the first conversation you had with your mother.
"Sweetheart, this isn't just about you."
"THIS IS ABOUT ME! THIS IS MY LIFE!" you had shouted.
And you realized JJ was the first person to acknowledge that you were squarely in the middle of this situation, that this was in fact about you. You hung your head.
JJ mustered his courage to ask the one question he didn't want to ask but desperately needed the answer to. The one with the power to save his life or crush his heart.
"Do you love him?" he murmured.
You were shaking your head before you could register your own movement. Like your body needed JJ to know the words you couldn't say out loud. You looked up at him, biting your lower lip, tears in your eyes again, shaking your head in earnest now as he looked at you like his heart was breaking and mending and breaking again in front of you.
"He's cheating on me" you said finally, the last piece of the puzzle sliding into place as you hung your head again.
"He what?" JJ said incredulously, his voice rising.
"He's cheating on me, sleeping with my best friend" you repeated, like he didn't hear you. You registered him walking away and looked up to see him pacing angrily away from you, hands on his head.
"JJ?" you said and he stopped walking, back still to you as he leaned over and cradled his head in his hands like he physically couldn't take the information you had just shared with him. After a moment, he stood up and walked back over to you.
"Princess" he said, his voice pleading with you as he took your face in his hands gently, emotion thick in his voice, squashing the anger simmering just under the surface. "I can't tell you what to do, I won't tell you what to do, you have enough people in your life doing that for you. All I can do is tell you how I feel because I've been trying to do it for the past week but didn't want to misread the situation. The first night I saw you I thought, no, I knew you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my entire life. I told myself that if you even deigned to speak to me that I would do anything I could to make sure I put a smile on your face every day. That's what I've tried to do, to make you smile, to make you happy, to show you some fun, but along the way it became a whole lot more than that."
"JJ" you whispered, your bottom lip quivering.
He continued without pausing, "It wasn't enough just to go swimming together or go surfing or be out on the boat. I was craving you every moment we were apart, craving the chance to make you laugh, to be the reason there's a smile on those goddamn perfect lips, to see that twinkle in your eye, to grab your attention, even if it's to laugh at me or something stupid I said, I literally didn't care. I only have eyes for you... You know what I thought that day we were surfing and you thought there was something in the water?"
You shook your head.
"I thought that a shark could have bitten my leg off and I would have been the happiest guy in the world to spend my last damn moments on earth surfing with you, knowing that you were in my arms, that you felt safe in my arms, that you wanted to be in my arms" he choked up a bit at that. "That's not normal Y/N. Nothing I feel about you is normal. What we have isn't normal. It's fucking extraordinary. I'm falling in love with you, Y/N. Hard."
Tears slid down your cheeks as your lips continued to wobble. JJ pulled your face closer to his, now just inches away as he held your face in his palms, gently but firmly. He was biting his lower lip, eyes glancing at your lips.
You closed your eyes, pursing your lips. You felt him move forward when you whispered, "JJ, I can't, we can't. I'm engaged, and I won't do to him what he's done to me."
He sighed heavily as he rested his forehead against yours before pulling you back into his arms in a warm hug. He admired your morals and hated them at the same time.
"What are you going to do, princess?" he asked quietly after a few minutes.
"I don't know" you said, your voice barely a whisper as you hugged him closer. Willing the world to stop turning, so you didn't have to face tomorrow.
You wouldn't have wanted to spend your last morning anywhere else as you and JJ paddled out to surf. There was a thick tension in the air and an uncharacteristic seriousness about him that ebbed away but never fully disappeared as you fell into your normal rhythms, though this time it was you trying to make him laugh rather than the other way around. You could feel him looking at you closely as you bobbed in the waves, like he was trying to memorize you, afraid you would slip away.
You spent the rest of the day packing and going through the motions, in denial at the idea of leaving the place and the person that had become so special to you.
Your friends wanted to throw you a goodbye party at the chateau, which you managed to enjoy despite the circumstances. Your heart squeezed at the idea of leaving more than just the rolling beach, the morning surf and the blonde boy behind, but also a group of genuine friends, so drastically different than your so-called friends back at home.
JJ gave you a ride home that night. It felt fitting to spend your last night on the back of his bike, your bodies molded together comfortably as you leaned into him, resting your head on his back, hugging his abs with practiced ease. You had traded your dress and high heels for a damp bikini, shorts and one of his sweatshirts and you no longer worried about getting your hair tangled. A lot had changed in two weeks.
He rolled slowly up to your driveway, cutting off the engine but refusing to move, like if he didn't get off the bike, then he didn't have to say goodbye. You slid off the back, pulled off your helmet and shook out your hair like you'd been doing it the whole summer. JJ took off his own and let his eyes roam over you, the relaxed way your body moved, the sunburn on your nose from your days in the sun, the way you looked in his sweatshirt. He had told himself he was going to show you a good time and he had. If nothing else, he was happy to give you that, even if you didn't share his feelings. He got off the bike and looked down at you, smiling sweetly but sadly as he brushed his thumb over your cheek.
"I don't want to say goodbye" he said sadly.
You stomach churned with a guilt different from the one you had felt all week. You weren't guilty for the way you felt about JJ anymore. You were guilty for the look he had on his face right now, like you had taken this happy and carefree boy and run his heart over with his own bike.
"Please don't be sad" you said pleadingly.
"How can I not be sad?" he said with a bitter laugh, "You're leaving me."
"I'm not leaving you" you said pointedly. "I have to go home, I have to figure things out."
"And then what?" he pressed boldly, kicking himself at the fear and anger evident in his voice as he dropped his hand from your face.
"And then, I don't know!" you said, exasperated. "I'm doing the best I can, JJ. It's just a lot to figure out."
"Seems pretty simple to me" he said tartly.
You sighed in frustration.
"I'm sorry" he said quickly, "I don't want to fight with you. I'm just sad my surfing buddy is leaving" he joked, trying to lighten the mood as he leaned over to hug you. You curled into his arms, pressing your body firmly against his in a hug much more intimate than one shared with a friend as he nuzzled into your neck and the warmth of his breath tickled your skin. You swayed back and forth like that for a moment before you finally let go. You met his midnight blue eyes one last time as they drank you in. A sweet smile rested on his lips as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Come back to me, princess" he said, stepping back and taking one last look at you before he hopped on his bike and rode down the street.
You managed to make it all the way to your room and into your bed before you cried loudly into your pillow, tugging his sweatshirt around you.
You were up early the next morning for your flight. When your alarm blared it felt like you hadn't slept more than an hour. You blearily showered and got dressed, stuffing JJ's sweatshirt deep into your suitcase before dragging it downstairs. You and your mom sipped your coffees in silence, trading glares over your mugs before you stepped outside to load up the car. You had wrangled your suitcase to the bottom of the stairs before you looked up and dropped your suitcase at your feet, your eyes transfixed on the single pink peony resting on the hood of your car. You ran over to, looking for a note and smiling when you didn't find one. You didn't need a note, you knew who it was from. You held it close to your chest like you could reach him through it. You finished packing the car and your mother pointedly ignored the flower as you tucked it into your purse.
The flight back home was uneventful but for the blanket of silence that rested over the two of you. The veil of the fun girls' getaway torn away to reveal the farce that it was.
So much had changed for you in the two weeks you were gone that you were surprised when you pulled into your driveway to see everything exactly as you'd left it. Your life had been flipped on its head, but this reality continued, unchanging. It felt like your house should have burned to the ground or that everyone around you should know what happened in the Outer Banks, but they didn't, they carried on and tugged you along with them in a whirlwind of dinner parties and wedding planning. You followed in dazed confusion, like a toddler aimlessly follows a parent. You touched the clothes in your closet, ran your hand over your kitchen counter like you were a stranger in your own home, like they belonged to someone else. This didn't feel like a part of you anymore.
JJ texted you relentlessly, and even tried calling, but you couldn't bring yourself to pick up and deleted the texts before reading them. You didn't want to torture yourself with something you could never have, as you felt everything you had with him slipping through your fingers.
Before you knew it, three weeks had passed. You felt like a zombie. Carson could tell something was off, even he wasn't that stupid. When he went to kiss you, you turned away and gave him your cheek instead, and when he reached for you in bed you rolled away and he also turned away, aggressive in his rejection. His touch made your skin crawl.
On the morning of the fourth week since you were back you were surprised to find a note on your bedside table when you woke up.
Come downstairs, I have a surprise for you ❤️
That shouldn't have made you gag. You wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, but you weren't sleeping well anyway. You pulled yourself up, groaning, tugging on your robe and slippers and padding downstairs to the kitchen. Your breath caught in your throat. Every surface had a bursting bouquet of pink roses. As Carson saw you enter the room, he handed you an iced latte from Starbucks. "Iced caramel latte and pink roses!" he said, clearly thrilled with himself. "Your favorites!" You looked down at the iced beverage, ice already half melted and looked around at the pink flowers, all the wrong type. You looked at your large kitchen with marble countertops and the open floorplan that poured into a designer-decorated living room as you thought about the single pink peony on your car. You sighed, tears rising up. You set the coffee down on the counter and turned to face Carson. You were scared. Terrified. You were making a cataclysmic life decision that you weren't sure you had the courage to make. You thought about the feeling of a dirt bike skidding out beneath your three-inch heels, you thought about dark choppy waves filled with sharks and jellyfish and slimy things that tickled your toes and then you thought about warm arms and a blonde-haired boy that promised you that if you had a little courage, everything was going to be okay. You reached for your ring and tugged it off your finger, placing it in Carson's hand.
It had been four weeks and John B didn't have it in him to tell JJ he had been right all along as he watched his best friend trudge through the days like he was sleepwalking. He was doing all of the JJ things with none of the JJ energy. He paddled out to surf with them but let wave after wave go by as he stared blankly out at the ocean, like he was hoping you would appear out of thin air. He went to parties and didn't touch a drop of alcohol. He smiled and laughed but none of it reached his eyes and when he thought no one was looking, he sunk quietly into himself, brows furrowed, hands running over his face, eyes fixed on his phone, willing it to ring.
Now JJ was kicked back at the chateau, laying in the hammock by himself in silence, staring out over the marsh.
"This is so depressing" Pope said as he looked over at him and the group nodded in agreement.
Sarah's phone chimed and she pulled it out of her pocket, her eyes quickly scanning the text as a grin spread on her face and she beckoned the group around her quietly.
As the night came to a close and everyone was getting ready to leave, Sarah shot John B a knowing look.
"Hey JJ - we surfin' our spot tomorrow?" he asked.
"I don't know, man" JJ said lazily as he rolled out of the hammock and trudged over to the group. "I might just stay in, get some sleep... you know..." he trailed off.
Sarah shot John B another look, urging him on.
"Come on, man, the waves are supposed to be tight with that storm rolling off Florida. Boys day!" he said, pointing at Pope.
"Y-yeah!" Pope said, picking up late on the hint, "Boys day, come on!"
"Fine, fine" JJ said, waving them off as he wandered over to his bike. "I'll see y'all in the morning." As the bike kicked up dust, John B and Pope pounded fists.
JJ barely managed to pull himself out of bed. He felt nauseous. Sick. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. That probably had something to do with it. The ache in his heart probably had more to do with it. He lazily pulled on a bathing suit off the floor, grabbed his board and hopped on his bike. He didn't want to be grilled for missing 'boys day', whatever that meant.
He was pissed to see he was the first one there as he trudged down to the water, sticking his board in the sand and flopping down onto his back, bringing an arm to cover his eyes from the early morning sun. He was so deep in his own head, he didn't hear the sound of the sand kicking up beside him.
"Laying alone in the sand at 6:00 in the morning, isn't a great way to meet people" a voice said.
He thought he was hallucinating as he shot up, eyes searching for the source of the voice and coming to land on you. You were in his favorite bikini, one hand covering your eyes from the sun as you smiled at him, one hand on your hip. He stood up so quickly he nearly lost his balance in the sand.
"Y/N?" he said, confusion and awe clear in his voice along with a thousand unspoken questions. What are you doing here? What does this mean? He was frozen to the spot, mouth opening and closing, clearly trying to string together a sentence when you flashed your left hand at him like you had the first night you met, letting the lack of a ring speak for itself. His eyes grew wide at the sight, his heart wanting so desperately to believe what his eyes could see.
Please don't let this be a dream. Please don't let this be a dream he thought as he walked towards you. When he finally placed his hands on either side of your face, when his fingers made contact with your warm skin, confirming you weren't a figment of his imagination, his smile was back as he grinned from ear to ear, eyes twinkling as he threw his head back and let out a loud "WOOOOO!" before scooping you into his arms and spinning you around. Your heart soared. He was like a little kid on a candy high as he spun you around and then took off for the water, sprinting into the ocean as you both laughed and tumbled into the waves together, momentarily losing your grasp on one another before you resurfaced and his arms reached out for you underwater, tugging you towards him again, your arms wrapping around his neck, your legs wrapping around his waist, your bodies perfectly molded to one another.
Something about being back in the water together where you had spent so much time stealing glances, brushing limbs and dancing around each other heightened the tension as your wet bodies pressed tightly together. All of him was pressed against all of you. You were hypersensitive to each other's touch; no longer forbidden, no longer secret. He ran his hand up your back and his thick arms encircled you, the simple touch mind-numbingly sexy after so much time apart. You brushed his damp hair off his forehead, letting your fingers tangle in his blonde locks, your faces inches from each other. He smiled at the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He couldn't wait any longer, he pulled you into him. He tasted like saltwater and sunscreen and summer. He kissed you deeply and passionately, a hand behind your head as he flicked his tongue against your lower lip and you let it curl into your mouth, reciprocating with your own. He pulled you impossibly closer to him as you bobbed in the waves together. You paused, trying to pull back. There was a lot you needed to say. "MmMm" he said, shaking his head against yours, refusing to break the kiss and instead kissing your deeper as he let his hands roam over your body. Your head was swimming, dizzy with his touch.
"JJ!" you managed to sneak out finally, taking his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. "There's a lot I need to say."
"I think you're speaking loud and clear" he said, squeezing you and running a hand down to squeeze your ass, making you laugh as you slapped his shoulder playfully.
"I mean it!" you said, giggling, and he took the opportunity to kiss you again quickly. You took his face in your hands, tone serious. "I'm sorry I didn't see what was right in front of me. I-I was scared. Scared to walk away from what I knew even if it wasn't what I wanted. I know that might not make sense, but you gave me the courage to do it. To go after what I wanted for me, for my life."
He smiled, meeting your strong gaze with his, "Nah, princess, you did that all on your own."
"Well, if it wasn't abundantly obvious" you said, "I'm falling in love with you too, JJ Maybank. Hard." You could barely get the words out before he crashed his lips to yours again, capturing your smile with his own.
part two!
taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @sweetestdesire, @m-indkiller, @ashlaylayxd
#jj maybank#jj maybank fanfiction#obx jj#obx jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#obx jj x reader#jj obx#jj obx fic#jj obx imagine#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank x you#jj x reader#outerbanks jj#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx imagine#outer banks#obx
366 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stop blaming characters for bad writers
Seriously, stop fucking doing this. While this is a post that could certainly be applicable to MANY fandoms, I'm mainly directing this whole rant at my target audience which is mentally ill minecraft obsessed freaks.
If a character is written badly, gets badly fumbled by the creator, or has the ball dropped in regards to their arc in some way, a lot of people will blame the character, as if they're a real conscious person making these decisions. When they aren't. They're a block man literally being controlled by two people who just aren't very good writers and one or both of them are incredibly sexist, kind of racist, ableist, and just bad writers in general.
Yeah, Laurance does some pretty shitty things through out Season 2 of MCD, actively crossing lines he wouldn't have previously crossed. We as fans can cope by saying something something calling, or just saying Laurance is a bad abusive person, but the reality is that the writers wanted to force the series to fit a specific vision and as a result were willing to do anything to get the series to that point. In order to make Aaron the most favorable suitor for Aphmau, her previous suitors need to be out of the picture, or clearly inferior options.
Garroth suffered the out of the picture, being mostly absent outside of a few cutscenes here and there until episode 81 of season 2, but episode 81 is the culmination of the writers goals to make Aarmau happen. By the time Garroth has returned to the series, the damage has already been done. He's not getting the life he wants. And Laurance is written out of the picture as well, but only after being shown to be inferior because Jesson were pushing an agenda.
Laurance didn't deteriorate as a person due to neglect of his physical and mental well being after a severely traumatic experience. He deteriorated as a character because the writers stopped giving as much of a shit about him and instead were using the series as self indulgent fanfiction of alternate versions of themselves. That's not Laurance's fault.
And this applies to any character who was completely fumbled in MyStreet due to this similar focus on wish fulfillment from the writers. Jess has stated that the relationship between Aphmau and Aaron in Phoenix Drop High is reflective of her relationship with Jason, we all know this. This means that any characters who come off as total fucking creeps in that series (namely Gene), are not actually acting on the whims of their own autonomy or desires as characters. They are acting in service of telling a predetermined story that they are retroactively being added into for author fulfillment.
In this regard I fully support fandom cope and say that you should rewrite your little guys to your hearts content. But if you're going to criticize these characters for their actions, don't criticize them. They didn't do anything wrong. All characters are just puppets in service of the story or themes a writer is trying to push. If a character acts in an objectively terrible way, especially a way that isn't in line with their previous characterizations, that is a failing of the writers, not the character.
And I feel like largely a lot of us can and frequently do this. We're actively criticizing Jesson for being terrible low-key bigoted writers all the god damn time, it's like half of the content here. But when we get into character discourse I feel like some people cling onto bad actions of the canon too closely and I've seen more than a few posts presume some pretty terrible interpretations of characters based on these actions. Obviously Laurance is a character I and a lot of others are fixated on so a lot of discourse revolves around him, and it was seeing some... interesting takes on him that prompted me to start writing this post.
But this happens to everyone. Quite personally based on the character I was shown in MyStreet, it feels really weird that Garroth would make an insensitive comment about his brother's weight. Yeah siblings poke fun at each other and often cross lines, but if that was something Zane was seriously insecure about (which it seems like he might be) then it does make Garroth come off as a really insensitive brother, which just doesn't gel with how hard he tries to bond with Zane despite their tense relationship. And I don't think Garroth should be criticized for making those comments.
Whoever wrote those lines (Jess and/or Jason) should be criticized for writing a scene where a character is mocked by their older sibling over a physical insecurity even if said sibling would not normally do that. It's not Travis' fault that Jesson never decided to give him more of a character beyond "funny pervy guy" that's not funny in every anime they've watched until Season 5 of MyStreet. It's unfair to try and say Travis should be scrutinized for his borderline sexual harassment of some characters when it's not his fault that happened, he was written by writers who don't think this sort of behavior isn't all that bad if they make it out for comedy and punch him in the face.
And god dammit it's not Laurance's fault that his jealousy became the most prevalent emotion he felt. Laurance has always been a character to give into his vices and yet fight against them at the same time, it's what makes him compelling. If they were going to pull on those vices in order to make him a less appealing love interest, he never had a chance to really be his own character after a certain point. Because at a certain point in Season 2, Jesson stopped caring about the character they had been writing for over a hundred episodes at that point. They just wanted to canonize their self insert ship and were willing to do anything to get it.
Laurance isn't an abusive angry person who would have killed Aphmau if they got together. He's a flawed character being handled by incredibly flawed writers who are prone to making some of the worst decisions you have ever seen a creator make in regards to their character writing. He was caught in the crossfire of the adoration he received from a very dedicated fanbase, and the creator who would rather pretend he and his previous arc didn't exist for the sake of her fun. It's not Laurance's fault his arc was stilted, jerked around, and ultimately ended with him completely face planting. And yet still reliably dragging his bloodied body up at just the slightest glimmer of hope (Void Paradox).
It's deeply poetic and tragic that I can describe his character in universe and in the meta-textual sense that way, but we should never blame Laurance, or Aaron, or any other characters for things being like this.
They didn't write the show. Jess and Jason did.
#minecraft diaries#text post#aphblr#aphverse#laurance zvahl#garroth ro'meave#minecraft diaries laurance#mystreet#mystreet garroth#mystreet travis#bad writing#fandom discourse#fandom discussion#character discussion#character discourse
44 notes
·
View notes
Note
Bullet Train anniversary woop woop!!!
This movie is so incredible, I’m really glad people are still talking about it.
Could I request Tang x reader where they’re always going a million miles a minute competing on the job, so it looks like they’re at each others throats but as soon as everything calms down they’re nerding out about what the other pulled off
I’m aware this is a runon sentence from hell😔
Have a good day! :)
BULLET TRAIN 1 YEAR ANNIVERSARY FIC💺
can’t believe it’s been a year already!? I watched the day it came out and it was honestly one of the best films id seen in a while. will always love it and love writing for tan😌
hii! so the fic is slightly different to this ask, as I messaged the person who sent it, so im basing this off their response, hope that makes sense. basically this fic is slightly different to how it’s was requested in the ask above. I made reader GN, so everyone can read. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
love to hate
tangerine x reader
wc: 509
link to post
✧.┊MASTERLIST + TAGLIST
Relationships were something out of the realm for your occupation. They were something out of the question, something to avoid. They were a hindrance, used as bait against you, something your enemies could exploit and threaten. So for the safety of you, and everyone else, you chose not to pursue them.
That was until the agency assigned you to a pair of fruit-named Englishmen, which you had taken well to one of the twins, Tangerine. You kept your wits about you, so he was always kept at arm's length, much like how he treated you. It was something you did to protect yourselves and one another, a system put in place that made sense. That's why your dynamic worked so well.
So when you were on missions with Tangerine, you had a strict rule, 'pretend to hate each other.' It may seem harsh, may seem unnecessary, but it wasn't. It was something each of you did time and time again in order to keep one another safe.
...
Lemon was back home in England, so you and Tan were paired to retrieve intel from an infamous cartel in Belfast. You and Tangerine were no strangers to Ireland, you knew it like the back of your hand, but you didn't get cocky.
The job was relatively easy, something you've done a thousand times before, but that didn't stop you from breaking your rule. You kept it, as did Tan. You kept up your 'I hate you act,' and like always, it worked. It kept you both safe.
"Christ, wait up," Tan pants from behind, catching up with you. "Wait a bloody minute."
"Dude, we ain't got time. Chop chop." You look over your shoulder, hurrying him along.
"We lost them. You don't have to be so mean to me now," Tan playfully pouts, stopping in his tracks. "Fuck me." He sighs, pulling a box of cigarettes from his pocket as he rakes through his curly roots.
"What are you doing? We don't have time." You scold, dragging him by the arm.
"Wait, wait, wait," he says breathlessly, holding a cig between his lips as he lights it.
You cross your arms, staring at him with a displeased expression. "Really?"
He doesn't reply. He looks past you as he draws the stick, exhaling the smoke away from you. "Come on. What you waiting for?" he grins.
"Are— you. Are— what?" You stutter, far too stumped to think of anything comprehensive. "Are you serious?" you ask, following after his long strides.
"Yeah, hurry up," he smirks, flicking the ash on the ground. "You're taking forever. We gotta get to the pick-up point by four."
"You're such a dick, y'know that?" you snicker, lightly punching him in the arm.
He chuckles, slipping his hand into yours. "Yeah... I know,"
The action caught you off guard, so you twist to face him, your brows knit in confusion.
"Psh," he shushes you, predetermining your thoughts. He squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over the dried spots of blood on your skin. "We'll be fine."
— — — — — — — — — — ✿ — — — — — — — — — —
tan taglist: @tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @like-a-fine-skylark @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @astermath @dynamitehacke @boldlyimportantface @charmedkim @fruitlovertangerine @psiiconic @bubblezuku @sporadiccherryblossomfan @landryslove @daenerys-supremacy @dontknownameauthor
#bullet train 2022#1 year anniversary#tangerine#tangerine bullet train#tangerine x reader#tangerine x you#tangerine fanfiction#tangerine imagine#tangerine blurb#tangerine fic#tangerine fluff
124 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mario Kart 10137.5
Warnings : MARIO KART (this story heavily describes a game they play of mario kart, howerver it's all in relation to HC and well, you :) alternating from game description to your reactions), slight swearing (like 2 words), hitting (with pillows😭), FLUFFFF, reader and Haechan bicker and joke a lot
Genre : Boyfriend!Haechan x semign!reader, Fluff (again), crack fic?
Word count: 1.32k
---👾
Get it! 10137.5! 101 cuz thats like the teaching number or something then its haechans viewer rating I'm so smart
You and your boyfriend Haechan got nintendo switches together and he's recently been obessed with Mario kart and you ,being his s/o , ooobviously have to play it with him.
The only problem is, you're absolutely terrible at it so he has to teach you how to play before he can even allow you to play with him and his friends (Johnny, Jisung and Jeno). You have no interest in playing with his gaming squad who's names all suspiciously begin with the letter J. But the main driving force which got you sitting on his bed with the controler( that he bought for you for his house) in hand was the determination to beat him after you came 12th (last place) out of him and all the cpus (basically computer players, you play against but theyre not actual people).
Instead of him explaining to you all the controls and the game, he decided that the best way for you to learn was to throw you into the deepend on the fastest race mode with cpus. You two were going to play 12 matches, with the last one predetermined by Hyuck as 'rainbow road' (every mario kart players worst nightmare). You begin to choose your characters and haechan chooses Bowser because you said he looks ugly and scary. You choose Rosalina (because you have taste of course) and she was one of the only human characters available 😭😭
Hyuck starts the tournament and you two with all of the other cpus are all lined up in a straight line.
3!
2! Haechan starts holing down one of the buttons on his controller
1!
Go!
Everyone speeds off ahead of you leaving you in last place, in the first 5 seconds
'THAT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENCE WHAT' You exclaim already ready to quit the game, he leans over you to move your thumb over the A button on the right side of the controller and explains that you have to hold down A when it says 2! to in order to accelerate.
Out of rage you restart the game and you're back to the begining, but now you have that trick up your sleeve, nothing can stop you! 3, 2, you audibly press A, 1, GO! Now you're zooming off with everyone else and a victorious grin displays itself on your pretty face knocking Haechan from 1st to third cuz he's lowkey whipped for you as you chaotically purposefully bash into other cpus, you were 8th place making your way to the top ' I'm coming for you' you annouce which he just scoffs in reply.
A few miles ahead, there are these floating boxes which you avoid and run over the speed up as you think that they were something bad, only to see Haechan shoot right through it. Regardless, you were ahead of him. 'What's that' you ask as you see the wheel of different powerups spin at the top of his screen, it lands on a red shell 'wanna find out?' 'Go on then' you reply unimpressed. He makes his way over to you and throws the red shell which follows your kart until it hits your character and stops you in your tracks, taking you down four ranks in the leaderboard as the other players unnessicarily throttle themselves into your helpless character. 'WHAT WAS THAT FOR!' 'DID YOU NOT WANT TO SEE WHAT IT WAS' you roll your eyes but start grinning cheekily as you just recieved your powerup which was a green shell, you somehow caught up to him and threw it at his character only for it to bounce right off of a random object that was apart of the map and hit a player behind you. Your face filled with horror and dissapointment 'What the fuck was that' 'green shells go anywhere, only red shells target the person directly infront of you. ' 'all of these rules are pissing me off, what is this game' you say rolling your eyes in frustration while leaning your whole body into the screen to focus.
Haechan is back at first place and you hear an almost whistle noise as his character finishes the 3rd, final lap of that course, leaving you dumbfounded as bowser does a disgusting celebration animation around the track that Haechan replicates to get a reaction out of you. Which you retort by pushing his face away from you and starting the next match.
9 lost matches later, you've given up on winning through skill, you're willing to anything, absolutely anything to beat this jerk. You have to play dirty, super dirty. So, when the game starts, you ready one of Haechans pillows in your hand. 3! You smack him across the face with the fluffy pillow and almost like a movie feathers come out You quickly grab your controller and hold the A button to accelerate at 2!, 1! Haechan presses accelerate too late at GO! He's left in your dust, smoke coming out of his engine as he's stationary for 2 seconds for accelerating to late meanwhile, you're in steady 3th place. 'WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM' you stick your tongue out as you tokyo drift around the corner and secure 2rd place.
Climbing the ranks, you throw a red shell atthe cpu who was in 1st place making you! FIRST PLACE! With only a few seconds before your beautiful victory which was only 10 races late, this being your 11th. As the finish line is in sight, you're thinking about the funny annoying victory line you're going to scream in his face; 'maybe you could be better than me one day' no 'I was only warming up' no 'you're lucky I let you win, the first 10 matches'; when he lets out a small, evil chuckle. That wasn't a good sign, not from Hyuck.
He was in 2nd place right behind you and hadn't used his powerup from his mystery box yet, you just assumed it was something useless like a banana peel or something until, just as you're about to cross the finish line, you're character has this flying blue thing over her head and a loud warning siren is ringing through the speakers until a large blue cloud of an explosion engulfs your screen and the wicked laugh haechan had been hiding comes out in full fury. 'LEE HAECHAN' He's wiping a tear away from his eye as Bowser crosses the finish line doing that annoying animation which he soon copies in your face, pissing you off even further. 'Blue shells fly straight to the 1st person in the race regardless of what rank you are in! Har har har' he says in a mocking tone.
Consumed with genuine anger, you take it out on him by repeatedly hitting him with the pillow that was previously fired at his face, standing on your knees as he's curled up in a ball before finding his feet and grabbing another pillow, which basically turns into a pillow fight between the two of you. You grab two pillows and tightly shut your eyes as you windmill hit Haechan picturing bowser as you do so only until you notice you're not landing any hits. You squint your eye to see only a glimpse of him leaping at you with his arms reaching your middle until your head hits his bed. You're laying on your back with haechan ontop of you 'I didn't realise you'd actually get mad.' He says as he attempts to place wet kisses on your cheeks while you try to push him away 'GROSS HAECHAN' was all you could make out between your giggles, you couldn't be mad at him. "I'm sorrrrrrry" he coos "sorry for what" "sorry for being better at you in mario kart!" He beams as he starts doing bowsers dance again, recieving another pillow to the face.
--- 👾
Fyi this is bowser lol
Incase you want to know what Bowser winning animation I'm referring to, skip to
4:20
youtube
Thank you so much for reading ily!!!
I'm starting an @ mention list so lmk if you want to be included! 💕💕
Requests are open literally spam me!!
#nct dream#nct dream fluff#nct dream soft hours#nct fluff#nct imagines#haechan x reader#haechan scenarios#haechan x y/n#haechan fluff#haechan#nct smut#haechan smut#haechan soft#nct haechan#nct soft hours#nct soft scenarios#nanaloco#lee donghyuck#donghyuck fluff#hyuck fluff#hyuck scenarios#I can't stop thinking about that haechan instagram live I'm going to write about it#Youtube
189 notes
·
View notes
Text
◇ Exposing Manifestation Myths:
◇ I must say that there's a lot of utterly ridiculous limiting beliefs about manifesting floating around in the community thanks to the bullshit beliefs of the "law of attraction" from people who have no idea what they're talking about or how the whole process of manifestation actually works in truth. So with that said, I'm going to put all the limiting beliefs to rest in a grave.
{Lights, camera, action.}
"Divine timing"
Divine timing does not exist unless you assume it does. There is no such thing as an already "predetermined" time for your manifestation to arrive. As the creator of your reality, you have the power to decide when your desires manifest.
"You must have high vibrations"
Are you serious? Last time I checked, I'm not a vibrator. Who the hell came up with this stupid belief in the first place?
"You must be grateful for everything else in your life before your desires manifest"
I don't have to be grateful for shit, Barbara. Gratitude has absolutely nothing to do with being able to manifest your desires. That's a bunch of total bullshit and why in the hell would I be grateful for everything else in my life when the whole point of manifestation is focusing on the mindset of already having your desire? It makes no sense. Also, every single time I have manifested anything, I was never grateful for any of it before it showed up. It still manifested each and every time. Why? Because it has nothing to do with gratitude and everything to do with dwelling in the mentality of *already being/having*. Screw the gratitude lists, I don't have time for that shit. My focus is on actually manifesting my desires, screw everything else.
"You can't manifest multiple things at once"
Oh yes you can, and you already do. You are always unconsciously manifesting all the time based off of your state of consciousness (mentality) and your assumptions. Your assumptions about yourself and the world around you are always reflected back to you like a shadow in your outer world because you rule your own reality and the outside world is just a mirror of your inner mind. Don't tell me that you can't manifest numerous things at once, that is absolutely false. Hell, you can easily manifest 100 things at once if you wanted to, you have the power at the end of day.
"You must be grateful for your desire"
Press x for total bullshit. Once again, no you do not. You don't have to be grateful for a single damn thing.
"If you spiral, you fuck it all up"
It doesn't matter if you spiral. All that matters is you pick yourself, believe in your power, and continue to persist in the state of already having. You are way too powerful - nothing can ever stop you.
"You must be happy and positive all the time"
This is such a harmful limiting belief to impose upon people, especially for those like me who struggle in the mental health department. You do not have to be happy and all about sunshine 24/7 in order to manifest your desires and manifestation has absolutely NOTHING to do with your emotions. We may be powerful master manifestors, but we're still human. It doesn't mean that we're not allowed to feel and express our emotions when they need to be let out. We cry, we get upset, we get frustrated, we feel pain, etc - we have feelings and emotions. It is so horrible to tell people, especially those who are already struggling with their mental health that they just need to be happy and positive all the time in order to manifest their desires, let alone and that limiting belief is absolute total bullshit. Fuck the law of attraction.
"You must heal your inner child first"
No you don't, manifestation has nothing to do with your inner child to being healed. I'm sure my inner child has been crying out to be healed for a long time, but that doesn't stop me from being able to manifest what I want. It shouldn't stop you either. Work on healing your inner child only if you want to, don't feel pressured to do anything you don't feel comfortable with or you're simply not ready to do. You're still a powerful manifestor no matter what, nothing can change that.
"There is an appointed hour for the birth of your desires"
I absolutely love and respect Neville, but with all due respect to him and his life changing teachings - he had his own rules for his manifestations and you should implement your own rules as well. This rule sounds like divine timing and none of that stuff exists unless you assume it does. You are the creator of your reality, take advantage of your power, and set your own rules.
"Be careful what you think, it will manifest"
Hell no, I refuse to live in fear of my own thoughts and this is a horrible limiting belief for those who really struggle with repeating fearful/intrusive thoughts. It's a terrible thing to constantly live in fear of your thoughts or worst fears manifesting. It doesn't have to be this way. Only give power to the assumptions that serve you and make you happy. You can simply decide and set a new rule for your reality that only the things that make you happy can manifest in your outer world no matter what then persist in that assumption until it comes true.
"You must do shadow work"
This is not true at all. Only do shadow work if you wish, but manifestation has nothing to do with shadow work.
"You must give to others and receive good karma before it manifests"
Karma doesn't exist unless you assume it does. Only acknowledge assumptions that serve you and benefit you. You don't have to give a single damn thing to anyone in order to manifest your desires. This limiting belief is absolutely false in every way.
"You must match the vibrational frequency"
What the hell does this even mean? No wonder so many people in the law of attraction community struggle to manifest their shit.
"There's a time delay"
The only reason we experience a time delay is because we accepted that limiting belief as true from so many different loassumption coaches. This is not true at all. You can manifest instantly or you can manifest by a certain deadline every time, if you wish. Persist in the assumptions you want and make manifestation so much easier for you. You are a powerful creator, so embrace your power.
"It's so hard to manifest"
Manifestation is easy and simple. The only reason a lot of people struggle is because they usually operate from the victim mentality and so of course manifesting will be difficult for them, especially when they keep feeding into the assumptions that they can't manifest or manifesting is hard for them. Change your mindset, change your assumptions, and persist in the assumption that you always manifest so quickly and easily. You'll discover your desires falling upon you like rain.
"You have to take action or nothing will happen"
You are the master of your own reality and you do not have to lift a single finger in order to manifest your desires. You can sit on your ass all you want and manifest your dream life from the comfort of your bedroom because it is all in the mental attitude. How powerful are you?
"You have a soul contract that prevents you from manifesting this"
This limiting belief is so ridiculous. There is no such thing as a soul contract. There is nothing in this world that can ever prevent you from manifesting absolutely everything you desire.
"You can't affirm in future tense"
Yes you can, I have manifested plenty of things just by knowing "this is going to happen". I personally prefer to affirm in present tense, but if you enjoy affirming in future tense then go for it.
"But astrology, fate, destiny-"
I used to be the biggest believer in all these things, especially astrology. None of these things exist unless you assume it does and even if you do believe in them, nothing on this Earth can ever override your power and predict the outcomes of your future. Only you can decide and make your destiny.
"It takes this amount of weeks/months to manifest"
Nope, you make the rules. This is your reality, live by your own rules. It doesn't have to be a long and drawn out process, you can manifest your desires as soon as possible and get your dream life now.
"You must confront your past trauma"
This is a very sensitive subject for some people and it's a harmful limiting belief. Nothing can ever stop you from manifesting your desires no matter what.
"You have to feel the emotions"
When Neville spoke on, "Feeling is the secret" - he is referring to the state of knowing, a confident attitude of mind. Not your emotions. It seriously annoys the hell out of me to see so many loassumption coaches get this one wrong too and yet, they try to teach Neville. Once again, your emotions have absolutely nothing to do with your ability to manifest your desires.
"But mercury retrograde!"
I never believed this bullshit limiting belief for a single second even back in my law of attraction days. Mercury retrograde doesn't exist unless you assume it does. Stop feeding your power into things that are not real. Only assume in your favor.
"You must clear your blocks, resistance, etc"
Explain this to me: why in the hell would you have "blocks" or "resistance" that prevent you from manifesting your desires- when the power of divine manifestation is your birthright as the creator of your reality? It makes no sense at all. There is no such thing as blocks or resistance that keeps you from manifesting your desires.
"You can't change the past"
I know it sounds crazy. It sounds absolutely batshit insane, but yes we can. Neville has done it, Neville's students who attended his lectures and applied the law has done it, Aiva Manifested That has done it, a whole bunch of followers and bloggers here on tumblr have done it, a lot of people on youtube have done it, and a bunch of followers in the Neville Goddard reddit have done it, so yes you can. If they can do it, so can you. Time is a man-made concept, it is not real. Everything exists now including the past, the present, and the future. There are infinite realities with infinite possibilities. Nothing is set in stone. Your only limits are the ones you assume into being and place upon yourself.
"You must believe your affirmations"
You do not have to believe in your affirmations, you just need to believe in yourself and your own power. That's the real secret sauce.
"You can't decide the how/the when"
You realize this is the law of assumption, right? As Neville says, you can assume anything into being because you are God. So decide whatever the hell you want as long as you persist in the mindset of that assumption already being accomplished.
"You can't use negative words in affirmations"
Yes you can, stop limiting your power.
"You are a co-creator with the universe"
You really think the universe is as powerful as you? Oh that's hilarious. Girl, the universe doesn't manifest shit, YOU do. You are the one with the power, you are the one manifesting - it all comes from your state of mind and assumptions. You are the only creator of your reality, the universe can't hold a candle to your limitless power. Stop giving your power away.
"The universe will bring you this"
The universe does not manifest anything, you do. The power is all you, not the fucking universe. Forget about the damn universe, you are the one with all the power. You are the master, the boss, the creator of your world, so stop giving your damn power away.
"You attract your desires to you"
I am not a magnet and you don't "attract" anything towards you. You manifest everything into your outer world based off of your inner state of mind and assumptions.
"But my tarot cards tell me this"
This is a good one for me to address because I love me some tarot. You can still follow Neville's teachings and practice tarot readings, just don't allow the tarot cards to dictate your reality. Tarot readings are only a possibility based off of your current inner state of mind out of infinite possibilities. Remember there are infinite realities that already exist. Understand that tarot readings are not set in stone. You can change and prevent absolutely anything you want to because you have the ultimate power and your tarot cards are not the master of your world, you are. So don't let tarot define you or the outcomes in your life, only you have the power to do that. You are a powerful creator with infinite power.
"There is a transition period"
No there's not, there's only a transition period for you if you assume it does. Stop giving your power away to these limiting beliefs, the transition period is not real.
"Self-concept isn't important"
I truly believe that having a good self-concept is the most important thing for your manifestations. Your self-concept is absolutely vital in order for you to manifest your desires quickly and easily, believe in yourself and your own power, master your world, maintain the wish fulfilled effortlessly and cultivate amazing self-confidence. Self-concept is an absolute game-changer when it comes to your manifestations. Working on your self-concept is very important and should be your top priority when it comes to manifesting your desires. Without a good self-concept - you doubt yourself, you doubt your power, and you operate from the victim mentality which will only make you struggle to manifest your desires. If you want to master the law and your ability to manifest anything you want - work on your self-concept. It will change your world, I promise you. Once you change your self-concept - you feel so powerful and untouchable, nothing can shake you or your trust in your power. Changing your self-concept will have you feeling like the baddest and most powerful bitch in the land.
♧ Step aside, Fiona Goode.
"You cannot doubt or your desire won't manifest"
This is absolutely false. You can have doubts and still manifest your desires. There have been countless times where I doubted myself and my manifestations, yet they still came through. Just cultivate belief and trust in your power. Regardless of anything, nothing can stop your desires from manifesting, not even you. Persist in that assumption and watch it come true in the outer world.
"You have to visualize"
As a person who has aphantasia and can still manifest her desires like a powerful master, I call total bullshit on this. Everyone has their own way of manifesting whether it's visualizing, scripting, vaunting/affirming, etc. Just do what works for you.
"This method is more powerful than that method."
I'm only going to say this once: YOU are the one giving the methods power. Methods are completely powerless without you. The methods do not have power, you do. The power lies in your state of mind. Methods are there to make the manifestation process more fun and to keep you in the state of the wish fulfilled.
"You can't manifest that! That's impossible!"
Absolutely false. All things are possible because our power of creation within is divine and limitless. There are infinite realities right now that already exist and they have infinite possibilities. This is why we say: creation is finished. All things are possible. You are the God of your reality and nothing is impossible for that divine power. Also, remember: imagination creates reality and our experiences in the world are only a mirror reflecting the state of the inner mind: our mentality, our beliefs, our assumptions, etc - because we are the operant power of our reality. As the master of your own reality, you can manifest absolutely *anything* you desire. Manifestation itself sounds batshit insane and illogical, but it is real. Think about the existence of the void. In the void, Neville declares that "all things are divinely possible". The void is *within you*, if all things are truly divinely possible in the void, then that means all things are possible to you as a creator *outside of the void* as well. Your only limits are the only ones you assume into being and place upon yourself. If you can imagine it, you can manifest it.
"There is a bridge of incidents"
Once again, I have much love and great respect for the brilliant Neville Goddard, but he had his own rules and he made things a bit more challenging for himself. There does not have to be a bridge of incidents for you. You can simply assume that you manifest instantly and if you faithfully persist in that assumption then that rule will come true for you.
"This and that can affect your manifestation"
Absolutely nothing in this world can ever affect, ruin, or prevent your desired manifestations. Set that rule for yourself, persist in that assumption, and watch it come true.
"You must flip every single negative thought"
No, you do not. If you constantly stress and try to flip every single negative thought, you're going to drive yourself fucking crazy. There are two ways to solve this unnecessary issue. Set the rule and persist in the assumption that you never have any negative thoughts or you can decide that only the things that make you happy can ever manifest in your outer world and persist in that assumption instead. At the end of the day, you are more powerful than any limiting belief.
"It takes a long time before your desire manifests"
No it does not, this is absolutely false. You don't ever have to wait for your desires if you don't want to, it's all up to you and the assumptions you persist in.
"You must affirm all day and every day until you're blue in the face"
Nope, none of that matters. You can affirm one time and still get your desires because the only thing that matters is persisting in the mentality of already having achieved the desire.
"You can lose your manifestations"
Why feed power into assumptions that don't benefit you? You make the rules. Decide and persist in the assumption that you always keep your manifestations no matter what and you're good to go.
"It takes longer to manifest multiple things at once."
This is such total bullshit and very limiting. Don't accept or feed your power into any of this. You can simply manifest 300 desires at once easily and quickly every single time if you wanted to- as long as you set that rule in stone for yourself, know it's already a fact, and persist in that assumption with confidence.
"You must repeat the same affirmation 10,000 times in order to manifest what you want."
This is not fucking true at all. In fact, I did the 10k challenge and I drove myself fucking crazy the whole time. It wasn't even worth it. I wasn't sticking to what works for me which is - deciding something is already done and living in the state of the wish fulfilled. If you have a certain way of manifesting that works for you better than anything else - *that is your own way of manifesting, so stick with it. Don't wander away from it.* If the 10k challenge works for you, that's fine. If it doesn't, no problem. You don't need it to manifest what you want. Understand that it is *not* necessary to manifest your desires, all you need to manifest your desires is changing your mindset and cultivating self-belief. That is it. Don't feel pressured at all to do this challenge. You don't need to do it. Only do the 10k challenge - if you want to.
▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎
Bottom line: all these limiting beliefs and myths are absolutely no match for your power. They are absolutely powerless compared to you as a creator. They can't hold a candle to what you can truly do with your abilities. You are infinitely powerful and limitless with divine power as a master manifestor. These limiting beliefs are meant to limit your power and keep you in a cage. So stop feeding into the limiting beliefs, they are powerless without you. You are the only person giving them the power to control you and keep you in a cage. Don't be a caged bird, set yourself free from the chains. Set your own rules for your reality and manifestations. You have the ultimate power to do so. Don't ever let anyone try to discourage you or limit your power. You are the master of your world. So change your assumptions, assume in your favor only, then persist in the new assumptions knowing it's a done deal, and kiss all the limiting beliefs goodbye.
#loassumption#manifestation#neville goddard#law of assumption#law of manifestation#master manifestor#manifesting
203 notes
·
View notes
Note
u get it u get it. the ending to murderdocks storyline felt lowkey corny as hell there was so much potential there for his and gwens dynamic like what if instead of blackmailing her she didnt know he was kingpin in the first place and thought he was helping her get her dad out of jail altruistically? slow manipulation to get close to her to convince spider woman to work for him of her own volition and then he rips the rug from under her in killing her father both isolating her and keeping her dependent on him and fulfilling his gwen stacy kin dreams, i dont think shes see him as a father figure but itd kinda be a echo and fisk dynamic “i trusted u and u killed my father i hate u and am still attached to u at the same time” kinda thing. anyway i think murderface should pee in his bed and his bed smells like cat pee forever and ever.
RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT YEAH. i think murdock would've gotten covid if gwen saw him as a father replacement, there's definitely the world's worst found family thing going on with them though and it makes me sick, she's like his emotional support teen intern
heavy on the maya and fisk vibes for sure like u said anon SOOOO MUCH COULD'VE BEEN DONE WITH HIM. WITH THEM. RAAAGGHHH the blackmail and coercion that occurred in the comics wasn't even like that good murdock had so many different opportunities to corner her into a predetermined decision and litchrally none of them were taken. Murdock already has the World's Worst Upbringing and i think alot could've been done with them forming their doomed bond to each other and him creating a false sense of security around her — specifically the way in which i view murdock's attachment to others is always something thats very consuming and unclear, his driving force is turning her into his successor and making her experience the same horrible fate he had and just UUGUGHGHH missed opportunities. also i think it would've been funny if murdock went to jail and they ended up being roomies when gwen got arrested she was fighting for her life in there imagine that fucking guy ontop of that she would've bit his arms off
#gwen stacy#matt murderdock#murderdock#asks#anon#he calls her his daughter in a panel but buddy the feeling is NAWT mutual#he calls her alot of things actually just never gwen#which i think is psychological warfare in of itself#hiii gwenny apple sunshine suprise. little soldier spider girl my meow meow heart of hearts#he definitely held back too much with her dad tbh#both his parents are dead and her dad repeatedly got in the way of his plans#regardless of how much murdock mightve wanted to take him on a candlelit date#anyways#shes not gonna kin you man
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Read The Silmarillion So You Don't Have To, Part Two
I'm going to pick up right where I left off, so please go and read part one if you haven't already: https://www.tumblr.com/nyxshadowhawk/726120109073104896/i-read-the-silmarillion-so-you-dont-have-to-part?source=share
QUENTA SILMARILLION
Okay, we’ve finally gotten to the main part of the narrative! Brace yourself.
Chapter 1: Of the Beginning of Days
In which the Valar plant some trees.
We get a quick recap of Tulkas having ousted Melkor from Arda, and then the Valar create two lamps to brighten everything up. They put one in the North, called Illuin, and one in the South, called Ormal. Yavanna planted seeds that caused all plants to grow. The Valar decided to rest at the very middle of the world, at the precise point where the two lights blended, on an island called Almaren in the middle of a lake. Everything’s great for about two minutes until Melkor sees all the beautiful things that the Valar have created, gets jealous again, and sneaks back into Middle-earth while the Valar have a party.
Melkor builds a fortress of his own deep underground, called Utumno. If you think Mordor is bad, it’s a vacation home compared to Utumno. Melkor simply being there is like dropping poison into the water; all the plants slowly die, and the animals turn into monsters. Catching the Valar off-guard, Melkor destroys their lamps, which sends them crashing down and literally takes out chunks of the land. The Valar’s original design for Middle-earth is permanently ruined after that. Then Melkor runs away to his fortress and hides.
At this point, the Valar are completely exhausted, because this fucking guy just won’t leave them alone. They don’t know where he’s hiding, so they can’t really do anything but pick up the pieces and move themselves to Aman, the land in the far west, on the shores of the sea that encircles the world. Instead of living in paradise in the middle of Middle-earth, they have to live in a distant fortress on a distant mountain, and behind the mountains they create the land of Valinor. (“Midgard” almost literally means “middle-earth,” so Valinor is roughly equivalent to Asgard.)
They salvaged as many beautiful things from Middle-earth as possible, and put them in Valinor, making it the most beautiful land ever. They built a city called Valmar, and on a mound to the west of the city, Yavanna sat and sang a song of creation. On the mound grew two beautiful trees, the Two Trees of Valinor. The male tree, Telperion, was silver, and the female tree, Laurelin, was gold. Both of them glowed with the beautiful light of what had been the lamps. (If you see glowing trees in anything, chances are they’re based on this. The Erdtree in Elden Ring is almost certainly inspired by this.) The trees bloom and wilt over the course of a single day, alternating with each other. The trees are beautiful, all the Valar are happy, and everything is fine for a bit.
Telperion and Laurelin by Jordan Patchak
We get a little more detail about what the Valar do — Aulë invented all handicrafts, Yavanna invented agriculture, Manwë sits upon his mountain and keeps watch over the world with the help of spirits shaped like hawks and eagles, and invented poetry. Ulmo doesn’t come to Valinor, but just sort of does his thing in the ocean. Yavanna sometimes leaves Valinor to work at healing Middle-earth from Melkor’s evil influence, because she loves all the plants and still mourns their destruction. Oromë also comes to Middle-earth to hunt the monsters that Melkor left behind.
All of this is in preparation for the coming of Elves and Men, the Children of Ilúvatar. The Elves are most similar to the Ainur (because c’mon, they’re elves), but Men have “strange gifts” that the Elves don’t have. These strange gifts seem to be the ability to shape their own destinies, as opposed to everything about their lives being predetermined by the Music of the Ainur. Of course, the disadvantage there is that Men are even more susceptible to Melkor. And, just like with Melkor himself, anything Men do in the service of evil is going to end up working in Ilúvatar’s favor anyway. (The best example of this is Gollum attacking Frodo at the Crack of Doom, which is what ultimately allowed the Ring to be destroyed.) From the Elves’ perspective, Men are basically a bunch of mini-Melkors running around.
Having free will is also why Men are short-lived in comparison to Elves. Elves are immortal, but that means they’re stuck on Arda forever. If Elves are killed in battle, they go to the Halls of Mandos and stay there for a bit until they eventually reincarnate. Men, on the other hand, leave Arda after death and don’t come back. That’s actually an advantage, presumably because the spirits of Men will share in the creation of the next universe, and those of Elves will not, though we don’t actually know.
Chapter 2: Of Aulë and Yavanna
In which Aulë jumps the gun and creates Dwarves, and Yavanna decides that someone needs to speak for the trees.
So, if Elves and Men were created by Ilúvatar, you’re probably wondering, what about the Dwarves? Well, the Dwarves were created by Aulë, the god of mountains, metal, and rocks! No surprises there, right? Frankly, Aulë just got too impatient waiting for the Elves and Men to show up, so he created Dwarves in order to have someone to share his knowledge with. Of course, we all know how kindly Ilúvatar takes to people coming up with their own ideas and interfering with his vision, so he immediately confronts Aulë about the Dwarves. Aulë pacifies Ilúvatar by saying that his intention isn’t to have creatures to rule over, like Melkor, but to have creatures to teach and to love and to share knowledge with. He compares his creation of the Dwarves to a child innocently using toys to imitate their parent’s profession. Ilúvatar forgives Aulë because of his humility, and allows the Dwarves to live, on one condition: The Dwarves are not allowed to be the first people to walk upon Middle-earth, because Elves and Men are cooler, and Ilúvatar isn’t going to let Aulë screw that one up. They have to sleep underground until the time comes, and Aulë is punished for his impatience by having to wait longer for his own creations to live in Middle-earth. Another part of Aulë’s punishment is that there will be a lot of conflict between his children and those of Ilúvatar. Better than being smited, I guess.
Aulë Creates the Dwarves by emyart15
The Elves assume that the Dwarves turn back into rock after they die, but the Dwarves themselves believe that Aulë (whom they call Mahal) will transport them to their own section of the Halls of Mandos after they die, and that they will eventually be given a place among the Children of Ilúvatar. They believe that they will help Aulë remake Arda after the final battle with Melkor at the end of the world, and that the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves (one of which is Durin) will return to help them in the final battle. (It’s a pretty common folkloric convention that heroic or legendary figures will return when their people have the most need of them. King Arthur, for example, is hibernating in a cave somewhere, waiting until the day when England has most need of him.)
Aulë kept his creation of the Dwarves secret from the other Valar, but eventually opened up to his wife about it. Yavanna is happy for Aulë that Ilúvatar was so lenient with him and his creations, but points out that because he didn’t tell her about the Dwarves, she has little influence over them. That’s why Dwarves don’t think twice about chopping trees and don’t seem to need agriculture. (Don’t ask me what they eat.) Aulë says in response, “Well, all the Children of Ilúvatar are going to take advantage of the earth’s resources, because Eru (Ilúvatar) gave them dominion over the earth and everything on it, so don’t blame me if they start chopping trees.” Yavanna realizes that, because of Melkor’s dark influence, there’s no guarantee that the Elves and Men will treat the Earth’s resources with respect. So, she goes to Manwë and explains that she’s worried that none of her own beautiful creations will be left untouched. It’s bad enough that Melkor had to ruin them, but now all the Elves and Men are going to get to use them with impunity? Manwë asks her what she would preserve if she had the option. She says that trees are her favorite creation, and muses that if only the trees had someone who would speak for them when they were treated badly! Manwë responds, “Well, that’s weird,” and Yavanna says, “It was in the Song so it’s definitely canon!” With some help from Ilúvatar, Manwë listens to the Song of Creation again and realizes that there was a lot of stuff in there that he missed the first time.
So, guess which race of beings the tree goddess is responsible for creating? From her thoughts, Yavanna creates (or will create, once the Elves and Men have come) the race of Ents, who will protect the forests from too much interference from the other races.
Manwë also sees a race of his own in his vision. Guess which race the sky god is responsible for? The Eagles!
Chapter 3: Of the Coming of the Elves and the Captivity of Melkor
In which the Elves finally show up.
For a long while, the Valar live blissfully in the relative paradise of Valinor, but the only light on Arda comes from the Two Trees, so the rest of Middle-earth is still dark. Yavanna’s still grieving for Melkor’s destruction of all of her original plant life, so she preserves as much as she can by putting it to sleep. Meanwhile, Melkor is off doing his thing in the north, steadily growing in power and strength. The Valar still haven’t found his stronghold of Utumno, and he expanded his operation into a second fortress called Angband, which he put Sauron in charge of.
The Valar are somewhat concerned about this, so they meet to talk about it. Tulkas is all in favor of going to war against Melkor again: “Are we just going to sit on our asses and let the Elves worship Melkor?” Mandos says that it’s fated that the Elves will see the stars before they see any other light, so there’s not much point in trying to clean up Middle-earth before then. So Varda, the star goddess, decides to make the world more welcoming for the Elves by putting new stars in the sky, which the narration describes as the “greatest of all the works of the Valar since their coming into Arda,” which… I don’t know, is creating new stars from the light of Telperion a bigger deal than creating Dwarves? Actually, I take that back — the Elves definitely would think it’s a bigger deal, because they care more about stars than about Dwarves. They give Varda the epithets Tintallë, “Kindler,” and Elentári, “Queen of Stars.” The constellations all have their own Elvish names, but there’s a few references in there that make it clear that the night sky Tolkien describes is the sky as we know it — Orion is called Menelmacar, and somehow fortells the Last Battle at the end of the world, and the Crown is called Valacirca, the Sickle, which represents doom. As soon as Varda is finished, and Menelmacar and Helluin (Orion and Sirius) rise, the Elves awaken. The Elves saw the stars before anything else, and so they revere Varda as their chief goddess.
The Elves first arose on the shore of a lake called Cuiviénen, the Water of Awakening. It was thought to be in the northeast of Middle-earth, but it no longer exists because the world has physically changed so much since then (seriously, the map depicts what is clearly the same land mass as the one in LotR, but the geography is otherwise unrecognizable). The Elves developed the first language, and called themselves the Quendi, which means (roughly) “those who speak.” The Valar were completely unaware of the Elves’ existence until Oromë happened to hear voices during one of his hunts. (Language is the beginning and end of all Tolkien’s worldbuilding, so, it doesn’t surprise me that his first people define themselves by their ability to speak, and that language is what leads the gods to them.) The Quendi are the Elves at their absolute peak — stronger, greater, and overall better than their descendants. The only thing the Elves retain as time goes on is their beauty, which becomes somewhat enriched by centuries worth of melancholy brooding. Despite having known about the Elves from the visions, Oromë is still stunned to actually see them. The name that he gives them, using their own language, is “Eldar,” the people of the stars.
At Lake Cuiviénen by Ted Nasmith
Of course, Melkor knew about the Elves before any of the Valar did, and so he got to them first. When the Elves become aware of Oromë, they are afraid of him. If the Elves ventured too far into the woods, they usually wouldn’t come back, so they blamed the disappearances on Oromë. Their oldest songs describe him as a shadowy terror who hunts down elves who stray too far from home. What actually happened to the poor Quendi who disappeared? Well, no one knows for sure, but one theory is that Melkor dragged them to Utumno and corrupted them, so that they became the ancestors of the Orcs. The Orcs are a ghastly parody of life, many times worse from Ilúvatar’s perspective than Aulë’s unsanctioned creation of Dwarves.
The Valar are ecstatic to hear that the Elves finally exist, but realize that, as usual, they need to do something to stop Melkor before he ruins everything. So, they go to war. Again. The Northwestern coast of Middle-earth is smashed to bits by the battle, and the Valar lay siege to Utumno. They eventually win, and bind Melkor with a chain so powerful that it has a name (Angianor). The Valar toss him into Mandos to rot, and while bound, Melkor stops being a problem for a while. However, there are still plenty of evil things lurking underneath Melkor’s fortresses, and the Valar still don’t know about Sauron. The Elves, meanwhile, are completely oblivious that any of this is going on, because the Valar kept them well-protected. Despite the fact that they had no part in the battle, Melkor blamed them for his initial downfall, because the whole war was fought for their sake. I’m sure that won’t cause problems later on.
The question remains of what to do with the Quendi. Middle-earth is really where they’re supposed to be, but it’s pretty banged-up after the war and still full of Melkor’s minions. Most of the Valar agree that the Elves should come to live with them in Valinor, beneath the light of the Two Trees, where they can live eternally in bliss. At first, the Elves don’t want to go to Valinor. They don’t know anything about the Valar, and everything they do know comes either through Oromë (who at this point has made friends with them) or through having caught glimpses of their scariest aspects during the war. Three Elves — Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë — are sent as envoys to Valinor.
Ingwë, Elwë, and Finwë, by _star热爱生活呀巴扎嘿
They see the beautiful, paradisal place, and the divine city, and the two glowing trees, and are so awestruck that they tell all the other Elves that they should definitely go to Valinor. About half the Elves think this is a good idea and are eager to see the Two Trees, but the other half prefer to stay in Middle-earth under the stars, where they feel most at home. The ones who go to Valinor are called the Eldar, “people of the stars,” because that’s what the Valar originally called them. The ones who remain are the Avari, “the unwilling.” Unfortunately, Elf Brexit (Elfxit?) has near-permanent consequences, and the two groups of Elves don’t see each other again for thousands of years.
So, the elves are now divided into multiple ethnicities based entirely on whether they saw the Two Trees of Valinor, and how long it took them to do so. Those who went to Valinor and saw the Trees are the Calaquendi, the Light Elves. Those who did not go to Valinor, either because they voted to remain or because they got lost along the way, are the Moriquendi — the Dark Elves — because they never saw the Light.
The Eldar are further divided into three groups depending on which of the three envoys they follow. The ones who follow Ingwë arrive in Valinor first, and become the Vanyar, the Fair Elves, who are the personal favorites of Manwë and Varda. Ingwë himself became the greatest and most revered of Elven kings, but he never returned to Middle-earth. The Elves who follow Finwë become the Noldor, the Deep Elves, who are Aulë’s favorites. The third group follow Elwë Singollo (“Greymantle”), and they take the longest to make it to Valinor. They become the Teleri, the Sea Elves, and live alongside the water. (There are even more subdivisions of Elves than this, but I’m stopping there.)
Astride his white horse, Oromë leads the Eldar westward, and the map is getting more confusing as I try to follow their progress. The text mentions that the Elves have to cross the Misty Mountains, which were even taller and scarier in those days because Melkor had just raised them specifically to stop them from crossing. (Hey, did you know that the Misty Mountains have an actual name? They’re called the Hithaeglir.) But the Misty Mountains and the Anduin, both familiar landmarks, aren’t on the map. You know what is on the map? Minas Tirith. That implies that most of the map is where Gondor and Mordor are now, and… you know what, that’s just kind of messing with my head.
Okay, so, I did some map research. Although the coastline of the Silmarillion map looks very similar, not only is it not the same, it’s actually much further west than Middle-earth as we know it. The entire land mass is gone by the time LotR takes place. The easternmost thing on the Silmarillion map is the Blue Mountains, which are the westernmost thing on the LotR map. On the other side of them is what will be the Shire. The Misty Mountains and Anduin aren’t on the map because they’re even further east. That means that there are two Minas Tiriths; I’m really interested in hearing that story. You know what, all of my confusion could have been cured if this long-lost northwestern portion of Middle-earth didn’t have the same damn coastline.
This map attempts to show both side-by-side (though it can’t really be called accurate because there are plenty of other changes to the continent between the First and Third Ages). The entire Silmarillion map is that leftmost piece, on the west side of the first vertical mountain range:
One of the lands on the Silmarillion map is called “Thargelion,” which also happens to be the name of an Athenian month. Cool.
#the silmarillion#silmarillion#tolkien#jrr tolkien#the lord of the rings#lotr#elves#tolkien elves#ingwe#elwe#finwe#valinor#aule#yavanna#dwarves#tolkien dwarves#ents#middle earth#the silm#silm fanart#silm elves#noldor
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fixing the Chunin exams arc
While I do think that the first two rounds of the exams are nearly perfect in narrative execution (except that Anko afterwards ceases to be relevant even though her backstory is so intriguing and could mirror Sasuke in so many ways, but I’m getting already off track here...) - I have some gripes with regards to the duels, especially Naruto’s, which is a fucking pity, given that he is the main character.
So this is my attempt to fix the mess that Kishimoto made of the last two rounds (concerning Naruto’s duels and the narrative around them, we don’t have the time for Kishi’s misogyny and whatever Sakura/Ino is):
1) Naruto vs. Kiba:
In @margalotta‘s wise words:
Imo, it doesn’t benefit Naruto at this point in his story to win out of dumb luck. He is teamed up with Kiba, who pretty much suffers the same weaknesses as Naruto, mostly bad rage control. So seeing Naruto actually staying in control and outsmarting Kiba would have been such a great character moment for him! Especially given that his lack of any strategy already gave him a pretty humbling defeat from Lee in the very beginning.
> Fix #1: Let Naruto outsmart Kiba, keep the fart joke for a filler.
2) Chouji vs. Dosu:
While disliking the outcome of the Naruto-Kiba duel, I do think that the point of “one can win with nothing but luck” is one worth making. So looking at the other duels of the preliminaries, I find Chouji vs. Dosu most fitting. We have already seen Dosu being completely brutal in the Forest and him losing would give him an extra reason to challenge Gaara before round 3 - him thinking he got cheated out of this encounter.
> Fix #2: Let Chouji win against Dosu through luck, let Dosu be bitter about it.
3) Naruto vs. Neji:
This actually get my blood boiling, because - as many have pointed out over the years - Naruto winning only because of the Kyuubi just proved Neji’s god damn point about predetermination. But (even though I like seeing Naruto lose) I don’t think Neji should win either. My solution is to scrap that entire duel.
> Fix #4: Let Neji fight against Shikamaru, let him lose
I am dead serious. While I like the ShikaTema interactions as much as anyone else, I think Shikamaru could have pulled his stunt with basically everyone else. The only difference is, that with Neji, it would have an impact. Because Neji technically losing only for Shikamaru to throw the whole thing out would have impacted Neji’s world view much more than losing against a jinchuuriki. In my very humble opinion.
> Fix #5: Neji vs. Naruto - talk-no-jutsu, the Hinata brawl
Between the preliminaries and round 3, a whole month passes. And I am aware that Naruto as a shounen protagonist has to change everyone’s path personally. So why not between the rounds? Let him be enraged about what Neji did to Hinata, so fucking livid that he doesn’t wait patiently for a month, but corners Neji the minute they are out of the arena and Hayate isn’t looking.
I have no idea, when Kishimoto decided on NaruHina as endgoal, but that would have set up that whole thing as well! Just a thought!! And you can have the Talk and maybe even Naruto actually catching Neji off-guard, if you want to. Idk, Masashi, you’re the Big Mangaka, you figure that out.
BONUS > Fix #6: Let Naruto fight against Temari, let him have a realistic chance, let him lose (?)
Surprisingly, I don’t have a strong opinion how this match should go. I think there is something for the idea of Naruto encountering someone with years worth of experience and losing and realising that even though he has grown a lot, he still has so much more to learn, which fuels his training under Jiraiya. But as a Proper Shounen Protagonist, I also have no issue if he has to win this fight. Maybe, to make it more spicy, have the Kyuubi come out and actually wreck Temari. Like, obliterate her to such a degree, that he is horrified. Show him and the audience in the arena why the village hates the jinchuurikis. I actually quite like this turn, because it mirrors the brutality Temari employs to win against Tenten.
BONUS BONUS: Actually I do have time to fix Ino vs. Sakura
> Fix #7: Keep the fight, throw out Sasuke and make Ino status-obsessed
Popularity aside, the main difference between Sakura and Ino during their academy years is that Ino has an inkling of her abilities, while Sakura is only aware that she can control chakra in the vaguest of ways. Ino is born into a clan, Sakura’s family isn’t mentioned in the canon. So why not make Ino think that she will get the best team (................... *sigh* and best team mates aka The Uchiha), while treating Sakura as an amusing puppy, but not really competition. If I remember correctly, Sakura has the best academy exam scores after Sasuke, so why not let her evolve into a real threat for Ino, maybe having their falling out be an actual duel on the training field that mirrors the duel during the chunin exams.
I think I am done now.
#Ola#excuse my Naruto blogging in 2022 - do you still think I'm hot?#my English is HORRENDOUS#Uzumaki Naruto#Hyuga Neji#Haruno Sakura#Nara Shikamaru#Inuzuka Kiba#Yamanaka Ino#not tagging the others let me be#someone pay me to rewrite Naruto plssss#Naruto meta
120 notes
·
View notes
Text
The He-Man Chronicles
hahahahahahahah i'm staring at this gif very very normally thank you
Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader
Words: 7.9K(hah i love him your honor)
Prompt this be a request babayyyyy:
[ GRADUAL ] for receiver to slowly undress sender, caressing and kissing every part of them they expose.
[ APPROACH ] our muses haven’t been intimate yet and receiver finally broaches the subject to sender.
Warning: 18+ it's smut, PiV, fingering, oral F and M receiving, Eddie talks a lot(yes that is a warning), drug use so like can be seen as under the influence non-con if you squint, let me know if i missed anything i am still new at this whole thing heh :)))
A/N: OK YALL THIS IS DIRECTLY FROM MY REQUESTS, a most beautiful anonymous individual dropped this off as a gift to me and my brain went WILD. I am very sorry to anon if this isn't the character you had in mind since it is my first time writing for him, but I just got like mad inspired so if you want me to write this prompt with a different character or if you didn't like my interpretation you go ahead and tell me and i will very much get on fixing that just please allow me this one sin 😌 it's been a minute since i've been this obsessed with an individual and eddie has just got me wrapped around his little fingers now doesn't he!!! me and eddie have kinda similar hair and both love weed and i think that's hot and i really wanted to get this done before the new episodes drop because i am TERRIFIED of what is to become of my baby. ya literally freaking out, obsessed, want to die, love him so so so so so so so much who am i. again giving this anon the biggest hugs and most aggressive forehead kisses literally ever because they gave me the inspiration to do this and be slutty and emotional on the MAIN! i LOVE them for allowing me this! so please enjoy send me all your eddie disgusting beautiful delicious thoughts and good luck to all my eddie girlies, tonight we ride 🤠
ok apologies i know this is already way too fucking long kill me with a butter knife but i have to point to @chaseadrian and @inklore who are doing GODS WORK with their eddie writing please i beg go read, it is so good ok sorry i'll shut up please enjoy!
also minimally edited i had to stop looking at it so forgive me please 🫠
~~~~~~~~~~~~
It always started like this.
Eddie brought the weed, you rolled the joints, and then cartoons for hours.
You and him were so simple, like a river flowing to sea, a course already predetermined and known that it was hard picturing life without him sometimes.
You’d been rolling together side by side since 6th grade english where the two of you made your teacher cry and then spent all of detention, heads together, trying to come up with the greatest revenge plot of all time. She’d been a menace and you and Eddie had had enough of it. But the revenge never came to be and that didn’t really end up mattering. You’d found your best friend.
He was the confidant you’d always wanted. The person who never shied away from any conversation. Eddie wanted to talk and he wanted to listen and he just wanted to know every fucking thing about you. His eyes read you inside and out like a creased and worn out paperback, soft from how often those eyes have traversed those pages. You were soft on him.
Long story short, that was how vengeful 6th graders turned blood bonded confidants turned into the drug dealing freaks of Hawkins High.
Somewhere along the way you both realized weed made shit a hell of a lot more fun, and a little extra pocket money never hurt. Like everything else between you two it had become your thing. You and Eddie had spent hours one fateful summer perfecting your joint rolling skills, or as Eddie would call it “doobie time” and the rest was history.
You’d never minded being labeled the freaks, never minded that the jocks were incessant about their hatred of you two, Hellfire, honestly anyone that wasn’t like them. Because Eddie was always right at your side ready to knock em down a few pegs and then erase any hurt with his goofy smile that made everything feel just a bit lighter.
Even though you didn’t get DnD and refused to play, he’d always made sure you felt some level of included. He’d nicknamed you Fae because you reminded him of some faerie princess he’d written into a campaign they’d been doing at the time and even gave you an honorary Hellfire t-shirt. The shirt had smelled like him and it had made you swoon but you refused to read into it any of the sweet gestures and delicious smelling shirts. That was just how Eddie was.
Eddie was your rock and you were his safe place to land and in so many ways it was hard for either of you to spend too much time apart. And so you had made a promise early in your friendship that Friday nights were claimed for the two of you. A ritual of sorts to let go of the bullshit of the week and just be. You and Eddie and joints and He-Man.
“Honestly speaking, He-Man is my ideal man. I mean the bob, the bangs, the voice? It’s just a package deal that cannot be ignored.”
Eddie snorted beside you, his lips turning up as his heavy lidded eyes scan your face. He’d been doing that a lot lately. Just looking at you.
His lips are wrapped around joint number 3? 4? And it’s hard not to zero in on his mouth, the softness and fullness of his lips sinking your mind somewhere warm and molten. You aren’t even sure what time it is anymore and your eyes are half open at best, but somehow the fog clouding the space behind your eyes clears just enough for Eddie to be the only thing visible. Your only real focus.
“Honestly speaking Fae, no one asked if you thought He-Man was the ideal man, but the fact that you just willingly gave up that information is something more pertinent for us to discuss. Please tell me, what is it about the most powerful man in the universe that truly speaks to you?”
“Oh shut up. You’re all jokes and honestly most of them are awful, sorry to break the news.”
You shove at his shoulder and ever the drama queen, he falls back, sprawling out on the carpet, hands clutching at his heart. His curls fan out around him, twisting and curving, framing his head like a halo, and there’s that edge to his eyes, a sort of golden fire that has been coming to the surface more and more when you’re together. It’s a sharpness of something secret that you can’t seem to place.
“Ah! You wound me! Sticks and stones and words all hurt me the same you know.”
“Eddie I swear to god you are a fucking nutcase sometimes.”
Your mind is swimming in the liquid brown of his eyes as he pears up at you from the floor. His laugh caresses your ears as smoke curls from his lips and he blinds you. He looks so soft, every part of him, his eyes, his hair, his t-shirt, seem gilded in a warm honey glow you’re fairly certain is due to the drugs curling around your synapses. But even if it is the weed, you’re still fairly certain curling up into his side would feel like drowning in warm, cottony sheets fresh out the dryer. It has your head spinning and hazy with feelings you haven’t yet defined in your head. Probably still too afraid to figure it out, but holy shit is he beautiful.
“Wait what did you say?”
Oh fuck. Did you seriously just fucking say that out loud?
Shit. This is exactly why you stick to two joints, max. As soon as you went past that your tongue gets heavy with all the words you’re always too anxious to say and proceeds to catapult every whim that flits across your brain out into the world for anyone and everyone to hear.
And today, delightfully, it got to be Eddie.
“I was just- I just- Well what do you think I said?”
“Well this is a tough one, you know with you sitting so far away from me and all, but I believe I heard you say something about me being beautiful? Possibly? Maybe?”
He props himself up on his elbows and scoots closer to you eyes brimming with question and hope? It’s hard to tell with the smoke filling the air, your lungs, your brain, but you almost feel like of everything, hope is the clearest. His tongue peaks out to wet his bottom lip, his teeth just catching onto the pillowy flesh there, and you have to focus on intaking breath or you’re fairly certain you’d forget to breath all together with how he’s looking at you.
“Uh well yes I-uh ya I mean come on of course you’re beautiful I mean you have to know that! The cheerleaders that buy weed from us pretend that you’re a gross freak but I heard Kristina in calc talking about how she thinks you’ve got a lot going on down stairs and how she’d really really like to find out. You know, everyone loves a bad boy.”
“Do you?”
“Wait wha- what?”
“Do you like a bad boy?”
That gives you pause. He’s completely ignored the fact that Kristina Taylor wants to see his dick and that just didn’t really track in your brain. She was probably the hottest girl at Hawkins and all the guys in Hellfire wax very poetically, at length, about how nice her tits are on at least a daily basis. Except Eddie, but you’d chalked that up to his assumed “manners”, and that he was just being respectful and hiding his lust.
And to make matters even more confusing his eyes are shifting, darkening to more of a chestnut brown with shades of need that you have a sneaking suspicion have zero to do with Kristina. Because he’s looking directly at you again, like he has been doing quite a lot these past few weeks, and it’s making you sweat.
You can feel your pulse in your fingertips as they press harder into the ground as if you’re trying to steady yourself from this giant shift happening between you and Eddie in his bedroom.
With He-Man on in the background.
It was all very discombobulating.
“I mean well ya I guess so, but don’t flatter yourself E. I’ve seen you shoot milk out your nose honestly too many times to count and that concerns me. Who knows, it could be a health condition! Maybe you have the weirdest milk related illness of all time, really gonna beat all those losers who’re lactose intolerant. They’ve got nothing on you.”
Eddie stays quiet even as his lips twitch up again into a soft grin. If there’s one thing Eddie is a pro at it’s seeing straight through your bullshit diversions.
But he doesn’t call you out on it this time. He just pushes himself the rest of the way up scooting himself closer to where you’re sprawled out against the side of his bed. There’s a precision to his movements tinged with caution as if he’s afraid to spook you.
It’s then you realize how your shoulders have hitched up and your fingers are curled into the carpet. Knuckles white and bones groaning, you must look like a corned animal.
He finally bridges the gap between you, his hand coming up, the joint still burning between his fingertips, smoke curling and twining around itself up towards the ceiling. Your fingers brush at the exchange and you see his chest twitch with a stuttered breath at the same time you hear your own catch. It feels fizzy and light as it skitters up your arm over your shoulder and down your spine. You have to restrain the shiver.
Eddie looks no less affected.
Your lips wrap around the filter of the joint and you inhale deep, needing something to distract from the headiness filling the air threatening to pull you under. It fails almost instantly.
The smoke floating from between your lips seems to only pull Eddie in closer, his eyes dropping down to watch the smoke curl from between your lips up into your nose. His lips part and you can see how his chest expands on the inhale, as if he’s trying to suck the smoke swirling out of your lungs straight into his.
You quickly inhale another puff and then pass it back to him, avoiding his touch at all costs and averting your eyes from his gaze that feels like its stripping you bare. Eddie’s rings glint in the low light of his bedroom as he taps the ash off the joint and stubs it out into the ashtray. His head turns back to look at you and he slowly slides himself to sit in front of your crossed legs, his frame now blocking out He-Man, the only distraction you had left.
“Hey. Hey Fae what’s going on up there? I know this weeds strong but you’re leaving me. Where ya going?”
There’s a sort of stillness wrapping itself around your ankles and crawling up your calves. You can see it in his eyes, he wants you to ask, ask what this tension, this thickness filling the air is all about. And he wants to tell you, desperately, wants to break the dam and let everything spill out all over the floor so it’s finally not suffocating you both.
If only you'd ask.
So you decide you will.
“E what’s going on here? I can’t with you looking at me like that. And don’t even ask me what that means because if I knew then I would tell you but I have no fucking clue and everything feels so confusing and fuck you weren’t kidding this weed is really, really strong.”
The words are tumbling, skittering, bursting from between your lips and it takes everything you have to suck in a breath and stop the word vomit from steering into territory that was much too scary to verbalize. Though it feels like it’s already sprinting in that direction, like a runaway train that has no chance of stopping, the only thing left to do is get ready for the carnage.
You peak up at him from beneath your lashes and his eyes are open with an aching vulnerability as if he’s letting you look into his soul. As if he really, really wants you too dive into his eyes and see it all.
His hand wraps around your ankle and the sear of his warm skin interwoven with the biting chill of his silver rings shoots up your leg and settles in your core, hot and torrid. You can barely breath, trying fruitlessly to hide your gasps for breath from Eddie’s ever watchful eyes.
The two of you haven’t been able to break eye contact and the temperature of the room starts to climb quickly like a kettle about to boil over. He drags your foot into his lap, his other hand curling around the juncture of your knee, squeezing just so and your sharp intake of breath sounds like a bomb in the hush of the room. His eyes flicker down to your mouth and they darken to a shade that has your stomach twisting itself into knots.
God this is too much, he still hasn’t spoken and you think you might start melting into the carpet if he doesn’t do something fast. What that something is you’re not totally sure but you’d love to find out, and soon.
“Fae, I ca- I’m about to say something really stupid but here goes nothing. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you. I just- Fuck do I want you and you’re my best friend but also the person I think about when my hand is wrapped around my dick, which sorry that's way too much information but honestly it’s just really hard to think around you sometimes when I want you in every way humanly possible and it feels like you’re always just out of reach.”
“But you also have to know, have to believe me when I say if you don’t feel the same, I will never bring this up again. Ever again. But I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. Not when you’re looking at me like that, and I can see how you’re out of breath just like me and it feels like you might be losing it just as bad.”
Your vision seems to glaze over and then flicker back as he talks, the gravel and need in his tone setting off all of your synapses and sends you flying into a deep-rooted, aching lust. The feelings and want that have been simmering under layers and layers of fear and dismissal, now breaking through the cracks and fissures Eddie’s proclamations have unleashed upon all your safeguards. You feel like a volcano about to explode, like you’re this close from ripping yourself apart with everything building and building and building within you.
He falls into you like his words are propelling him forward, the momentum shoving you both into a new chapter. His chest pushes up against the front of your leg, his chin hovering just above your knee, and you can feel his chest rising and falling through his soft cotton t-shirt, the heat of him seeping into your bare skin. His eyes are flitting across your features, eyes, nose, lips, chin, cheeks, and your face heats with his focus and attention.
He’s so close you can almost count his eyelashes, see the the lines in his lips where they’ve gotten slightly chapped. One of his crossed legs stretches open to rest against yours, and now you’re caged in on both sides, his hand still gripping your knee, squeezing every so often so you don’t forget that he’s there.
You feel like you might just lunge at him at any moment, like a rubber band stretched till it’s breaking point. One more word from him and you might just throw yourself off the cliff edge, you’re not totally sure if you’d even want to stop yourself.
“I- well I guess I might be feeling the same way, and honestly speaking, I’ve been thinking about you too. Or whatever.”
The spell finally breaks and your eyes drop instantly to the hand wrapped around your knee, his eyes finally getting the better of you. You’d just said so much, it all feels too much, and yet you don’t want to stop, because for some reason it seems like everything might turn out the way your heart really, truly wants it to.
But you’re absolutely fucking terrified nonetheless.
Eddie stays silent, but he moves almost instantly, the hand around your ankle gliding up your calf before sliding around your neck, into your hair, and his thumb catches under your chin, lifting till you’re forced to look at him.
It’s like sparklers are going off in your belly, chest, head, cunt. He’s looking at you as if he wants to inhale you like the smoke that’s been rolling around between you two all night. You feel consumed by him and this moment and the smirk crossed with a timid smile laced across his lips makes your heart squeeze with a want that’s starting to twist into something almost feral.
“You know what I think is really crazy? The fact that you know I like you, and I know you like me, and even though all I can think about sometimes is kissing you, I still haven’t kissed you yet. That just seems like a real shame if you ask me.”
His voice has dropped into a gravelly rumble, though still lilting in the way that Eddie is always joking, always light. Always your Eddie. His eyes are one and the same, a darkening brown, yet twinkling with an excitement and want that sends goosebumps skittering across your flesh.
He’s leaning in closer now, and his hand shifts, thumb stroking at your cheek as his fingers press into the skin behind your ear and further into your hair. You instinctively lean into his hand, skull pushing back against his fingers, wanting him to card them deeper into your hair and pull.
“E, please kiss me.”
“Dang, if you just gave me a second I was abou-“
Your lips touch down on his, cupping the plush of his lower lip, muffling the words leaving his tongue. You both freeze for a breath, until Eddie groans from somewhere deep in his chest and everything gets set ablaze.
His fingers card into your hair, pressing into your scalp, as his hand wraps around your knee and tugs your leg out to wrap around his hip. His body crowds into you, and your other leg naturally unfolds, winding around him till you have to shift up and into his lap.
It all happens in what feels like a heart beat and now you’re sitting nose to nose with the boy of possibly your dreams, and he’s looking at you with such softness and such reverence that it leaves you spinning.
Emotions are painted across his features and especially his eyes that are peering into yours, trying to read every one of your thoughts. And you want him to. You want him to see the yearning, the lust, the need. You would be willing to strip yourself bare for him and he for you.
His hands squeeze at your waist, pinky fingers hooking under the seam of your shirt to press into your bare skin, and the touch swirls around your body, spreading through you until your hips can’t help but roll into his and—
Your eyes lock and you can feel him. Pressing up against the zipper of his jeans, into the cradle of your thighs, and even through the two layers of denim, you can fell him. It sends your thoughts tumbling down, down, down to the molten center of you that’s been burning and churning since you two light up that first joint.
Eddie sucks in a breath, lips pressed shut, and a light whine cracks in the back of his throat as if it’s been torn out of him. His nose bumps into yours, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek as his lips move to your jaw, down to your neck.
A keen rises to the tip of your tongue as he licks at your pulse, thick and hot, teeth nipping softly in its wake. His hands are slowly starting to guide your hips, rocking you forward and back over the zipper of his jeans. Every pass over your clit leaves you whimpering out into the humid air and your fingers tangle in his hair, trying fruitlessly to ground yourself in the silky strands.
His breath puffs out against your throat as he bumps his forehead into your jaw affectionately, and you can feel the press of his teeth as he smiles into your throat.
“Fae, baby, I wa-want to see all of you, is that ok? Let me undress you, I want to make you feel so good. Please.”
He’s begging you, tone needy and gruff, as he nuzzles into your neck like some love sick puppy and you can’t feel, think, smell, taste, hear anything but him.
“God, yes, please, please yes.”
Your lips latch onto each others again, a burning intensity singeing the edges of every torrid press of lips. The damn has finally broken and you’re both frantic to feel. An all consuming ache to be skin to skin, devouring you both.
His hands slide around your thighs, settling down to cup your ass as he shifts up onto his knees, lifting you those final few inches to sit you up on his bed. The shift in angle leaves him gazing up at you if only for a breath, his eyes welling with reverence, as if praying before an altar. You can feel how hot you are between your legs and you wonder if he can feel it too. Feel how you’re burning up for him from the inside out.
His lips draw back a breath, dancing over yours, just brushing past, only to pull away every time you desperately try to fall into him. A dizziness is filling your head, leaving you dazed, eyes glazing over with how he’s leaving you on a razors edge. Touching you, but not quite, every pass just shy of the touch you’re truly aching for.
“Baby lift your arms for me ok? Let me see you.”
He ducks his head down as his fingers catch on the hem of your shirt, slowly dragging the fabric up the skin of your sides, yours ribs, fingers pressing in every so often, as though memorizing the flesh. His mouth follows shortly behind, imprinting the shape of his kisses onto the skin next to your belly button, over your ribs, onto your sternum, between your collarbones, your neck, and finally returning to your lips, your shirt disappearing somewhere far behind him though you seriously couldn’t care less.
You stay there, tongues tangling and swirling around each other, a small moment of slowness breaking through the chaos. Your nails catch against the back of his shirt and he helps you pull it off of him, every movement syrupy and soft. It’s like you’re drowning in this little blink of time.
His bare skin is a furnace under your touch, seeping warmth into your chest and heart, heating you slowly until all of a sudden you’re burning up for more. You whine onto his tongue as your fingers twist a little tighter into his hair, showing him you need more because you’ve definitely lost the ability to speak, words now a foreign concept.
“Fuck, you need more ya? Is that what you want Fae? You want more?”
All you can manage is a few mhms as his lips suck hard at your throat, stinging, surely leaving a mark. But you want him to mark you, dripping at the thought of waking up tomorrow to small purple kisses littering your skin.
You grind your hips against his chest, seeking some sort of friction before you self combust. You’re gasping against his neck as he continues his assault on yours. The heat licking up your spine is driving you almost to madness, the pulse between your thighs incessant and all consuming an almost roar in your ears. You think he might be saying something, whispering it against your skin but your brain is too focused on everything else you can’t be sure. It’s like you’ve decided to ignore everything other than the need to feel him stretching you open, pressing you down onto his bed and letting you feel every inch of him.
Eddie’s whines coats your lips and you finally notice that he’s moving too, hips grinding into the side of his bed trying desperately to find some kind of relief. Your nails claw at his back as you try and get him even closer, the steady rock of his body into yours lighting you up like a pyre.
Your lips can barely touch, pants and gasps and moans breaking the contact with every breath, the slow roll of both of your hips pushing you both higher and higher towards something blisteringly white-hot.
His fingers latch onto the button of your jean shorts, popping it open and pulling down the zipper, hands spreading out to wrap around your hips pawing at the fabric, trying desperately to rid you of the offending material. His lips settle against the valley between your tits and press, pushing you back till you’re sprawled out on the bed under him. You lift your hips and you both are finally able to wrestle the denim down your legs and off into the ether that is the rest of Eddie’s bedroom.
You could be in Mordor right now and you would have no fucking clue.
“You are so fucking beautiful, you know that? Like holy shit, are you beautiful.”
Eddie’s lips press into the swell of each of your tits, licking at the edge of your bra playfully.
“May I?”
“You may.”
It shatters you in the best way that even though you both are about to fuck like there is no tomorrow, are finally going to act on feelings that have been growing for years, you’re still just two idiots. The grins and giggles you share so tender and yet so depraved.
Your bra follows the exact same path as your shirt and pants, the ether consuming it or maybe it’s burning in Mount Doom.
Eddie’s hands cup your breasts, thumbs just barely brushing over your nipples, and your stomach jolts. He settles your quivering muscles with a kiss just below your ribs and then he sucks your breasts into his mouth.
The heat of his wet tongue barrels through you, hips canting up against him, a groan crackling and breaking out of your chest. The blunt edges of his teeth dig into your flesh and you are definitely about to loose your mind. No doubt about it because he is driving you up the wall with every stroke of his tongue.
“Eddie, fuck how does this feel so good? How are you so good at this? You have so much explaining to- fu-uck.”
Another drag of his teeth over your other nipple has you shutting up instantly. You don’t care how many people he’s fucked, who they are, where they are, fuck em because Eddie’s currently shredding you apart and it’s tortured bliss.
His laugh is muffled as he sucks another mark onto your flesh, and the vibration of it ripples over your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. He continues his assault, switching between tongue, lips and teeth, never letting you settle on one sensation for too long. Your cunt clenches around nothing, heightening your need to have him filling you, zeroing your brain in on the need to feel his cock in your hands, in your mouth, in your cunt.
Your hands drop from the death grip you’ve had on his hair, and Eddie has the audacity to whine, sinking his teeth in just a tad bit harder in protest, but you can’t not feel him. You think you might die if you don’t wrap your hands around his cock this very instant.
Eddie’s grunt of surprise is quickly followed by a long deep groan as your hands finally snake their way down to palm at his length through his jeans. His hips stutter as he rocks into your palm, finally letting you feel what will soon be splitting you in half. The flip in control is thrilling, and you squeeze him just a bit harder, drinking up the noises pouring from his lips.
Your teeth drag down his throat in time with you undoing his jeans, and Eddie is frantic as he stands on shaky legs to kick them off, sending them once again into the volcano.
He’s mesmerizing, hair falling around his face as he looks down at you, eyes a dark mahogany with how worked up he is for you, a shy smile gracing his beautiful features, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the tent in his boxers and the spot of wetness darkening the navy cotton. He almost looks bashful but then he sees your tongue wet your bottom lip and how your hooded eyes are drinking in the sight of him and the nervousness dissipates.
“Fae, you know you could take a picture, I heard it lasts longer.”
Your eyes snap up to his and he’s clearly joking but there’s a slight crease between his brow and you can tell he’s about two seconds away from snapping, nearly panting above you.
“Eddie, if you wanted me to suck your dick all you had to do was ask.”
He groans, fingers and rings tangling into your hair as he angles your head up to look at him. His thumb presses into your bottom lip, forcing them to part and your tongue brushes against his skin. He stares straight into your eyes as your hands wrap around the waistband of his boxers and pull down, your eyes dropping to watch as he finally gets laid bare before you.
You whine, it just can’t be helped because his cock is fucking fantastic. Never did you think you’d ever describe a mans cock as fantastic but here you were doing exactly that. He’s thick but not overwhelmingly so, just a little past the point of comfort, enough that you know you’ll feel him tomorrow and ache for him all over again.
A bead of precum leaks from the tip and without a thought you lean down and lick it into your mouth. Eddie’s whole body twitches, rings biting into your scalp as he tries to keep his eyes open to watch you taste him for the first time.
He tastes fucking divine.
“Fuck, Fae you can’t just say shit like that jesus fucking christ you’re driving me insane.”
Whoops, guess the weed is still in effect leaving you loose lipped, or maybe it was just his cock. Honestly it could be either or.
You don’t merit his words with a response, instead sliding down to the floor between his legs and licking up the underside of him, hand wrapping around the base. His hand falls to the mattress behind you, his strength giving out at feeling your lips wrapped snug around him and his cock jolts deeper into your throat causing you to gag and sputter.
He pulls out quickly, apologies rushing out of him but you stop him as quickly as he pulls out, sucking him back between your lips and even deeper this time, letting him feel your throat struggle with the length of him.
Curses punch out of his lungs as you work him over, drool pooling on your tongue as you take him into your mouth over and over and over again. You don’t know how long you’re down there for but it’s nowhere near long enough before he’s hooking his hands under your arms and throwing you back onto the bed.
“Jesus, if you thought I had some fucking explaining to do I am going to need some answer real quick about where the fuck you learned how to do that. But god just look at you, so fucking pretty and all for me.”
The combination of his words and watching him drop to his knees between your spread thighs leaves you somehow nervous, your hands coming up to cover your eyes from his blistering stare. His eyes feel like they’re burning you, torching your skin with unbridled need.
You peak out at him from between your fingers and find him smiling at you, head leaning against the inside of your knee, his hair tickling your skin. It’s almost too intimate, the change between depravity and sweetness jarring and heart warming. You’re shy yet sure, even in these moments of such deep vulnerability where it feels like your heart is just out in the open for him to take or destroy, because you know he’s in the same boat, on the same page, heart live and beating on the table right next to yours.
You watch each other for a second, some level of safety found in only seeing one another through the slits between your shaky fingers. Still enough hidden away to make it feel safe. His eyes dance with that same vibrancy that Eddie always has simmering just under the surface, but it feels so much better now that it’s pointed at you.
That you are the one making Eddie glow like this.
A rumbling groan shakes itself out of Eddie as his eyes flutter down and land on your panties and the damp spot growing where they cover your entrance. You can feel how sopping wet you are, have been, and Eddie leans forward eyes zeroing in, his hands slowly tracking up your thighs. His mouth traces its way up your skin, incisors snagging every so often, until his mouth is just inches from your core. He presses his fingers into the meat of your thighs and pushes you open, exposing your clothed cunt to the cold air and his hot mouth.
You can feel it, your wetness catching the puffs of air escaping from between his lips. You can see your thighs twitching with the lightness of the sensation and Eddies eyes darken, flicking up to catch you drinking in his every movement, every change of expression.
He’s intoxicating to you.
His tongue flicks out and traces you through the fabric, the touch muted yet somehow all consuming. Your hips jolt, hard, and Eddie barely avoids getting his jaw knocked. He preens a bit at seeing how worked up he’s gotten you, but graciously doesn’t leave you needy for long.
He dips back, his hands dragging your panties down your legs, finally laying you bare, and his breaths fan across your pussy, ghosting over the newly exposed skin. You swear you almost cum right there.
Your eyes lock again and he finally licks into you. Deep and hot and so wet, it sounds almost too vulgar, an d yet shivers race up and down your spin sending your back arching up to the ceiling. He dives into you and holy fuck is it the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
His arms lock across your hips to keep you under him and then he eats your pussy with abandon. He’s humming and groaning into your fluttering cunt and ever vibration from his tongue makes you see stars and feel like fireworks are bursting under your skin. You can feel your orgasm building itself up brick by molten brick in the pit of your stomach and it’s hard to hold still, to keep quiet when you feel as though you might explode into a million tiny little pieces.
You sound pathetic, moans breathy and more so just pitiful gasps for air. His tongue pushes at your entrance, and you keen as your thighs flex around his ears. There are only stars behind your lids and you grapple at his curls to try and keep yourself grounded in some reality as you careen out into god knows fucking where.
The mix of licking and sucking and flicking and swirling has you dizzy and so undone that you almost don’t notice his finger pressing into you until the stretch and the iciness of his rings sucks the breath out of your lungs. You double over, shuddering and gushing at the push and stretch and million and one sensations hurtling across all of your senses, groaning out Eddie’s name desperately.
“Oh fuck, yes, does that feel good? Fuck your pussy feels so good, so tight fuck, can I fuck you, please god can I-?”
“Jesus yes god yes, Eddie, please, please, please.”
The two of you are falling apart, tumbling head first into something earth shattering. Your eyes can barely stay open to watch him, eyes rolling back with every deep press of his fingers.
He pumps his finger in deep, thumb catching to circle at your clit and you roll your hips up into his palm, shivering and stuttering with every movement. He’s towering over you, mouth parted, awe scrawled across his face as his tongue darts out every so often to skate over his lips, as though he can still taste you there as he watches himself finger fuck you.
You whine far too loud when he pulls his finger out of you, your eyes snapping open, lips ready to beg him to fill you again, but his groan cuts you off and you watch, shell-shocked, as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, licking you off of his skin as his eyes roll back, your name a garbled whisper around his digits. Your hips grind against air, now absolutely unhinged with how much you’re aching for him.
His fingers leave his mouth with a soft pop, and he stares you down as he drops his hand to push two fingers inside you, curling and pressing up into the soft heart of you. Every press hurtling a whine out of your lungs and you can feel how he’s working your over, building you up to some great peak you can’t see quite yet in the fog of lust.
He keeps pushing and pushing and pushing till all of sudden the fog clears as though it’s been burned away by some ball of flame and you’re launched off the edge, a moment of hang time and confusion lasting for just a blink before you’re shaking and moaning and cursing up to the heavens. Your orgasm rams through you, blowing everything to dust and ash and Eddie has to practically wrestle you down onto the bed with how hard you buck in his hold.
Your hips are stuttering on his fingers as he works you through wave after wave. You can’t seem to decide if it’s too much or not enough, hips jumping at every pass over your sensitive clit yet still coming back for just one more lick of pained-laced paradise. Your chest is heaving with exertion and you can feel Eddie’s lips pressing into the soft skin of your stomach, a whisper of your name pulling your eyes back down to his.
His fingers twist around yours pulling your hand up to his lips for a soft, wet kiss. You drag both of your hands up to your mouth kissing over the spot he just touched and you can taste yourself on your skin. Your thighs are still shaking under his forearms but your heart rate final starts to slow as you gaze into his pretty eyes, your lips lifting into the softest of smiles.
"You’re going soft on me Fae. Who would have guessed you’d get all love-sick puppy dog eyes on me, very out of character for my High Fae Princess of the Seven Realms.”
“Eddie you little piece of shit, I swear to god!"
You start to sit up, trying to pull your hand away to properly shove at him but Eddie’s quick and your body is still in post-orgasm haze. He snatches up your wrists and pins them above your head, crawling up tills his eyes line up with yours and you can’t ignore the Cheshire Cat grin plastered across his face. He’s acting like he’s somehow trapped you with his “wit” and “brute strength”, but you both know you didn’t really put up that much of a fight.
His eyes soften, milk chocolate swirls hypnotizing you, as he peers down at you like some precious memento.
“So we’re doing this ya? I-I mean not just like the sex part, though that’s been fucking rad, but you know everything else?”
“E are you asking me to be your girlfriend right now? As we lie here, naked, you decide this is the perfect moment? You’ve really got some sense of timing there, I’ll give you that.”
Eddie scowls at you, his face flushing the most adorable shade of pink and you’re quick to put him out of his misery, stretching up to close those final few inches between your lips. The kiss is soft, adoration passed between your lips as you show him your answer.
“Of course we’re doing this Eddie, I don’t think I could imagine life without you most days.”
His hand reaches over to his bedside table, lips moving to devour yours as he rummages through the drawer in search of a condom. You watch as he rips open the foil with his teeth and sheaths himself, and it’s almost embarrassing how fucking hot it all is. Your nails claw into his shoulders, even that little bit of space too much for you to bear.
He rocks into the bowl of your hips, the head of his cock passing over your clit leaving you both shivering into each other until he finally catches against your aching entrance and presses just the tip of him in, a whoosh of air leaving both of your lungs as you feel the heat of each other for the first time.
“Baby I gotta be honest, I’m not gonna last I’m not even inside of you yet and I think I’m losing my fucking mind so I’m going to apologize in advance for busting way way way too quick. Please just, you know, take it as a compliment because you are hot as fuck.”
He’s rambling against your lips as he saws back and forth pressing just a tad deeper with every thrust. If your head wasn’t absolutely empty aside from the need to feel his cock splitting you, you would maybe even blush with how sweet the entirety of this situation is, but right now you need Eddie more than the air in your lungs.
“Jesus Eddie I don’t fucking care, I’m fucking losing my mind, please just fuck m-“
You choke out a garbled moan as he slides all the way into you, hips nestling together, his stomach brushing over yours. His jaw drops open and his lower teeth catch under your jaw as he gasps against your skin, choking out the filthiest whine you’ve ever heard. Your cunt spasms around him and the whine sharpens into a keen.
He pulls back until just the head of him is still inside of you and his eyes drop to watch as he pushes back in, his arms almost buckling at the sight. Your foreheads press together as you watch him saw in and out, cock glinting in the smoky light of the room with how fucking wet you are.
It all starts to build so quickly, the heat of his cock triggering something deep in your chest and your core. You can see the freight train in the distance and know there’s no way to stop it, just have to hope you can prepare yourself for impact.
He’s panting into your neck, whispering your name, how good you feel, whispering words your brain barely has the capacity to hear with how good he’s making you feel. His hips are already faltering with every push inside of you, cock already so sensitive from all of the building to this moment. Your body also can’t decide whether you’re too overworked, or if you need more friction to finish you.
The latter seems to win out.
Even in his supposed stupor, Eddie somehow still puts you first. His hand finds its way back between your legs, and his thumb settles to press firm circles over your clit. Your legs start to shake even as your arms lock up around Eddie’s neck, too many sensations taking over and your body needing to cling to something for dear life.
His lips find their way under your ear and as he scrapes his teeth over the sensitive skin you cum.
Your body caves in on itself, muscles locking up around him from the pleasures he’s choking you with. You have no sense of time or sound or sight, no clue what sounds you might be making, what you must look like, everything burning away until all that’s left is wave after wave of shivering pleasure.
“Holy fuck.”
That you do hear, Eddie’s lips still right below your ear, his teeth sinking in with the force of your orgasm. Your pussy clamps around him and he can barely move, can only feel your heartbeat against his cock. It’s like a sirens call to him and he’s fucking gone. The softness of your body and the tightness of your cunt breaking his last shreds of control.
He follows right behind you, trembling hips rocking unsteadily into yours till it becomes just a bit too much. Your contractions of your cunt draining him till his visions sparkles with white dots of light.
The bed bounces as he drops partially on you and partially on the bed, trying to not squish you while still remaining as close as physically possible. His nose skims along your throat and you sigh, deep and loud, making sure he can hear you, can hear how happy you are.
“Mmmm that good, huh?”
“You know, I don’t think it was too bad.”
His hand squeezes at your waist and you’re reminded for probably the thousandth time that night how fucking pretty he is. How you can practically taste the sweetness of his heart in the air. He’s looking at you like you’ve always dreamed someone would, and it’s only made better by the fact you never thought it would be Eddie.
Never dreamed that you would get to have this.
He tips his head up and his lips brush against your jaw, his tongue lazily licking at your damp skin. Your whole body hums. He presses another kiss into your lips and it tastes of a thank you. It seems you’re both a little bit in awe of your luck these days.
You share giddy smiles, eyes still droopy, though this time from the sex and not the weed. The feeling settling inside the four chambers of your heart is something you could really get used to, and you hope beyond hope that it’ll become as familiar as the curl of Eddie’s hair.
You’re pretty sure it will.
once again i love him, my new fixation god help me, feedback is always so lovely and so appreciated :)))))
214 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
tsuki-no-fugly-art
Tsuki no Fugly Art
queenofpoobah
Queen Poobah 🏳️⚧️
anwiel13
Victims, aren't we all!
wunovnun
Ya Aunties Favorite Uncle Welcome.
ENJOY THE MAGIC
minimalist-puroresu
Minimalist Puro