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#These were taken in the span of like an hour lol

transfemininomenon · 2 years

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thinking about the time back when i was in middle school & we had a bomb threat at the school and after standing outside for a couple hours while the place was searched we got taken back inside around when it was my particular lunch period, and the school was like "we know you only have like 15 minutes left in the lunch period now because of that but we're not gonna give you any extra time lol we're getting back on schedule"

and the Entire block of middle schoolers in the span of like 5 minutes all quickly organized & agreed that we were NOT leaving until we had had our proper amount of lunch time and flat out all refused to get up when administrators kept trying to get us to because what were they gonna do? give like a hundred different students detention?

anyway after like 40 minutes we'd decided we'd been given our due and agreed to leave and go back to class & i think that display of collectivism & power of unity was what radicalized me

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babyjakes · 4 months

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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | monster fucking

pairing | steve rogers x fairy!reader

warnings | me knowing nothing about fairies. reader is in "fairy heat"? bruce captured reader (potentially inhumane conditions for fairy-keeping?) soft sweet steve. size kink LOL. th-thumb riding? fingering. p-pinky fucking? stretching. multiple orgasms. squirting. praise and encouragement that makes me feral. pity kink? is that a thing? if it is, i think i have it.

word count | 1,225

an | i've never written monster fucking (or really anything super fantasy-oriented) so please be kind!! wasn't expecting to get sooo into this, but like there's just something about reader being literally so tiny that steve's pinky stuffs her to the brim that's making me all 🥲🫠😩

what if bruce was off working in some top-secret remote location and brought you back with him: a sweet little fairy he'd captured while working out in the field, just as you were entering your fairy heat 🫠

maybe you're just about 7 inches tall, with the body/proportions of a grown young woman. he's been conducting research on your species for quite some time, so he's able to determine basics like your age, your likely place of origin, etc. he's thrilled to have caught you at the start of your heat

what's your fairy heat? i made that part up simple, it's the span of several days that occur around the same time every month when your body's at its prime and looking to breed. you become insatiably horny, almost to the point of it being debilitating, and all you can focus on during your excruciating waking moments is fucking yourself on anything of appropriate size in sight

you're kept in some sort of incubator in his lab, a glass box that's a few feet by a few feet wide and deep. the bottom of the enclosure is made of a soft cushiony material, making any spot a good spot to lay down and rest. miniature food and water bowls are set out for you, and a bright lamp hanging from the ceiling of the box shines 12 hours a day. it's a pretty miserable existence, your makeshift habitat nothing close to the wide open flower fields and prairies you're used to, but it allows the scientist to observe you closely without any distractions or interfering variables. and since you're in heat, you aren't too worried about where you are or who's taken you. all you can do is writhe around on the soft floor of the incubator in desperate, horny agony

maybe one day bruce is out of the lab, but he told steve he could come check out his new findings and maybe keep you company if you'd let him. when he enters the room and sees you lying there, squirming and struggling weakly, of course the supersoldier's heart is instantly hurting for you 🥺

he approaches the incubator slowly, not wanting to startle you. but pretty quickly he realizes that you're paying him no mind; you're too preoccupied with your discomfort. he takes his time observing you, standing right in front of the glass box as his huge frame towers over you. bruce told him a little about your condition and the science behind it. it made him blush, but he accepted it like he would learning about any other species and their unique reproductive habits

"poor thing," he hums to himself as he watches your tiny body wriggle in distress. he's stunned by how pretty you are. you have the most delicate little face, and your translucent wings with their iridescent shimmer look like something straight out of a fairytale movie. you're completely naked- bruce removed your scraps of moss carpeting and leaf clothing when he found you. but it's not strange or offputting in the slightest to steve. he just thinks you're beautiful, such a stunning little creature that seems too precious for this world 💕

he notices the plugged openings in the glass wall that allow bruce to reach in and work inside the enclosure. carefully removing the rubber inserts, he reaches a large hand in, wanting to offer you some comfort if you'll take it. you're so tiny that you could nearly crawl right into the palm of his hand and curl up if you wanted to

but snuggles are the last thing you're looking for in this moment. when you see his huge hand lying there, palm up just a short distance away from you, you weakly crawl over, wings drooping in exhaustion. you couldn't fly at the moment if you tried

steve is a little surprised as you hoist yourself up onto his thumb, your tiny legs dangling on either side of it. it only takes him a moment to realize what you're doing- his cheeks turn bright red as you begin rolling your hips desperately, a faint feeling of wetness forming on the pad of his finger as you leak your glistening juices all over him

"oh doll-" his voice is dripping with pity and concern. he doesn't try to stop you, just watches as you so needily try to relieve yourself. as strange as the situation is, he can't help but find your primal actions endearing, in a way

he continues watching sympathetically as you grind your tiny little pussy down against his large digit. his heart swells at the way you place your hands down in front of you, trying to keep yourself upright as you rock at a steady pace. just a few moments later, he sees your little body spasming and realizes you've reached orgasm by merely riding along on his finger. "oh my," he hums thoughtfully, watching as your precious little toes curl in delight

your face is much happier after your climax. steve watches curiously to see what you'll do next, staying silent as you climb off of his thumb and move to the other end of his splayed-out fingers. as you lie yourself down on your back and spread your legs out on either side of his pinky, he's again blushing deeply. "o-oh, hey little one-"

he watches as you begin pushing down to press the tip of his smallest finger up against your leaking hole. seeing how much you struggle to maneuver against him, steve takes even more pity on you. "here, doll. let me help," he decides, bringing his other arm through the unused hole in the glass. he moves it over to lift your back up gently, supporting you in a sitting position as he carefully begins easing his smallest digit up into you, smiling affectionately as you let out a soft sigh of relief

"there you go. that's it," he's murmuring encouragingly as he carefully fucks you with his pinky. your little pussy is so tight around him, he's surprised he's able to fit. but you're taking him so well, and there's something so sweet about the way you look as you sit here in his hands, letting him stretch you out over the smallest finger he has 💕

"good, just like that" "such a pretty little thing you are" "that feel good, doll?" "just keep taking it, sweetheart" "so good for me, keep going" he's not sure if you can understand his words, but there's something he finds satisfying about talking to you this way

he can somehow feel your second orgasm approaching, your walls growing a bit tighter around him as he works up his pace a little more to carry you over the edge. "there," he's humming proudly, smiling as you manage to squirt out forcefully against him. your come ✨literally sparkles✨ as it coats his finger

as you're floating down from your high, he strokes your hair with his thumb as you lean up against the rest of his hand that's behind you. your eyes are droopy, your body no longer writhing in discomfort. as questionable as his actions might've been, it's clear he's taken care of much of your discomfort- at least for now

whyyy was this hot 🫠🫠 maybe i need to write fantasy shit more often lol

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hotpinkstars · 3 months

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-> the house won't ever feel the same again

synopsis -> you and alhaitham got into a relationship-damaging fight.

w/c -> 1.3k

warnings -> hurt no comfort, alhaitham is an asshole in this, dehya is your emotional support lol, reader moves to liyue, arguing and insults, reader is an artist

“alhaitham, please stop stressing. you cannot write twenty papers in the span of three hours. come to bed with me, dear.”

you knew that this would happen. dating the acting grand sage of sumeru would be no easy feat. and now here he was, slumped over his desk, gripping an abnormally large mug of coffee. you telling him to stop was making the grip even harder. you noticed, and took a deep breath in.

“you know, getting angry is not going to get you anywhere. please, take my advice, and do not overwork yourself tonight.”

“can you not?” he snapped. “let me do my work.”

this took you off guard for a second. he’s never said something like this to you before- even in your wedding vows, he promised he wouldn’t ever insult you, show major aggression to you, or put his hands on you. ever.

“i’m simply just trying to help, dearest, please take my advice-” you stopped yourself, seeing his expression. he just rolled his eyes at you, bringing himself back into his work. you’ve never seen your husband do that, he’s always at least taken your words into regards. you try once more. “alhaitham, come to bed-”

“can’t you tell i’m trying to do work? leave me the hell alone!” he slammed his hands on the table, making you jump back a little bit. tears were coming to your eyes, but you tried to control them.

“what is with the sudden aggression? you have never done this before!” you raised your voice slightly to try and counter his words, trying to make yourself appear bigger than you felt you were.

“you’re trying to interrupt me as i work. i will not tolerate it. you can wait. stop caring so much, would you?” he sighs, putting his face in his hands, running his hands up and down his head and ruffling his own hair. “leave me alone. how many times do i have to make myself clear? or is it not clear enough? are you just that stupid?”

that sentence made you freeze. he did not at all look like he was going to take that back. you nodded and started to walk out the door before he grabbed your shoulder. you stopped once again, thinking this was him apologizing, but you turned around to find a very angry man.

“and by the way, i’d never do that for you. that’s irritating, and your artwork isn’t worth caring for anyways. go.”

and there was the start of many tears. you ran out in fear and sadness, wondering what ever got into him to lash out like that. you knew he could be extreme and give out major criticism, but he was never this harsh to you. you looked down at the band on your ring finger, spinning it around a few times. the good memories, your honeymoon, your wedding, and the proposal all came flooding through your mind. it made you cry even harder than you already were, if that's even possible. you slid the ring off and threw it on your nightstand of your shared home, and then was sure to make a point of moving it to his. so he could see the damage he’s caused. you packed a tiny bag and left for the night to go to your friend dehyas place. you knew she’d have some good advice for you.

after a short trek to see her, you knocked on her door, soaked from the rain. she welcomed you in with an impressively strong pat on the back, immediately noticing your puffy eyes and noticing the ring wasn’t where it was normally.

“what happened to that ring that alhaitham married ya with? did divorce knock on your door?” she sighed. “i knew that’d happen, damned man.”

that sentence made you cry again. she immediately corrected her wrongdoings and pulled you into a strong embrace, stroking your hair.

“alright, tell me what's the matter.”

“he raised his voice at me… he’s never done that before, dehya!!” you cried harder into her arms, and you could hear her sigh.

“that man, oh did he make a mistake. what are you going to do?” she asked, looking down at you without stopping her motions.

“i’m not sure.. i love him… but i don’t think he loves me..” you sniffled, hugging dehya even tighter now. she nodded, looking down at you in sorrow. she wishes on every star there was something she could do to make you feel better.

“maybe you should try to talk to him. i know that’s probably not gonna do too much, but i guess it’s worth the effort…”

“but i tried that already, dehya! trust me, i tried to talk to him. and then he ever so rudely kicked me out like i was a colleague that was sent from the fortress of meropide in fontaine! worthless!” you groaned, letting your head fall dramatically on dehyas lap.

“maybe you have to let him approach you first. give it time, it’ll probably happen.”

you thought long and hard about that night. it’s been two days since your argument, over what exactly? just because you didn’t want him to fail at his job? his papers don’t even have a near due date! if even one at all!! you sat against your bed, lightly scratching the ground with your nails. it seems alhaitham took the ring he gave you, and went back to work the next day. he probably isn’t even thinking about what happened, or so you thought.

considering, the night you got back from dehyas, you were welcomed home to him sipping on some tea, watching the television. probably some documentary about the history of the aranara. you said a slight hey, and he just looked at you, immediately making your heart sink. you sighed and walked away to the spare bedroom. the worst part was that he just let you. he didn’t seem like he cared, or willing to take back all of the insults he threw at you that night. it seemed like that night was the only thing you could think about.

though, he feels super remorseful about the things he did and said that night. he hasn’t been able to properly focus, being logical enough to know that those words are something you’ll likely never bounce back from. you’ve already broken a paintbrush you’ve had, scratching a rip into a painting you spent hours on. he saw that when he came back home that night, gasping slightly. and that’s when the reality hit him.

he’s currently slouching over his desk, doing something he’d never even fathom doing in a million years- doodling on his papers. he couldn’t focus, he felt he needed to make it up to you. but he’d only ignore you whenever you tried to take dehyas advice and maybe talk through it with him. he doesn’t know why he ignored you, he just thought he couldn’t talk to you properly in the moment.

little did he know you were packing your suitcases to move into a small apartment you purchased with a fair amount of mora in the middle of liyue harbor. you told dehya about your plan, also letting her know to wait on letting alhaitham know about your plan. you were too hurt by his words, and you knew you could never be able to sleep in the same bed, nevertheless see the man anymore. you knew you were gonna be gone by dark tonight, which is plenty time before he’d get home. once you’ve packed the last of your things, you set off, taking a carriage to the chasm before being escorted by yelan herself to the harbor, tipping her a fair amount of mora for her kindness. you immediately felt more refreshed, in a new place, away from the man you’ve never known would be as toxic as he appeared to be.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham angst #alhaitham x reader angst #genshin angst #genshin impact angst

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nayomi247 · 20 days

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Save a horse, Ride a cowboy𐚁

(My version)

A/N: @heart-of-the-morningstar has inspired me to do my own version of the save a horse ride a cowboy smut that she posted, so this is a full one shot. Make sure you guys go visit @bat-boness and give them love and support. As this fic was based off of their drawings. This also is based off the game Red Dead Redemption 2 because that's the only way I'll be able to format this and make it look good. (TAKES PLACE AROUND THE SAME TIME RDR2 DOES)

Pairing: Cowboy! Outlaw! Lucifer/F!Reader

Contents: Smut, established relationship, p in v sex, bondage, biting, orgasm denial, dirty talk, sub Lucifer, light angst, cowgirl position, spanking, hand jobs, dom and sub undertones, blow jobs, praise kink, Lucifer for once isn't short (only because of his boots lol)

‼️DISCLAIMER‼️: THIS ALSO IS NOT PROOF READ, IT'S SOMETHING I THREW TOGETHER IN THE SPAN OF A FEW HOURS

As always, work under the cut🤞🏻

Your husband, Lucifer, wasn't always the kindest man. Of course he was to you, but others weren't quite as lucky. There'd been multiple times where he'd come home with blood covering his hands and shirt.

Though it wasn't something you liked particularly, you still loved your husband, despite all the wrong he'd done in the world.

So there you sat in your shared kitchen, waiting for him to get home. It was well after the time he normally got back. You assumed the job just took a bit longer to handle.

But as time went on, you started to get more worried. He'd never taken this long before. You stood up from your chair, completely forgetting about the plate infront of you and walked over to the door. There, you slipped on your boots and went to grab the door handle.

As soon as you turned the knob and went to walk out, you immediately stopped. There stood Lucifer, coughing and dusting off his muddy clothes, not even noticing that the door has opened and you were standing there. His eyes finally moved up to meet yours.

He smiled brightly. "Oh, my love-" He started, then confusing took over as you leaped at him, almost pushing him off the porch.

"Where the hell were you!?" You practically cried. He fumbled back, both confusion and worry washed over his face. "Honey, what are you-" He started once again, but you had cut him off. "You know exactly what I'm talking about Lucifer. I waited for hours! I thought you were dead, or stranded somewhere!" Tears threatened to roll down your cheeks.

Realization finally hit him and he knew he had fucked up. "L-Listen, the job took longer than I was expecting, but I got out fine, see?" He spinned around, showing that he didn't have a single scratch anywhere. "And," He said, reaching into his satchel. "I brought home a lot of money." He smiled, hoping that would be enough for an apology.

You sighed. You were still annoyed, but glad he was okay. "Go inside." You said, stepping to the side to let him in. "Of course my dear." He said with the stupid, but handsome smirk he'd always use when he got his way. As he moved past you, he placed a kiss to your head. You swatted at him and he laughed, walking over to the coat rack.

"Your food is probably cold." You said, picking up the plate and walking over to place it on the stove top. You were one of the few lucky places to get electricity at this point in time. You walk back over to where you had previously sat. He stood by the door, taking off his boots and jacket, now left in black jeans and a red collared over shirt.

He walked over to the table, sitting in his designated spot, across from you. There you sat, looking like your mind was running a mile a minute. Silence filled the room for a few minutes. Lucifer was becoming more nervous with every ticking of the clock. No one spoke, except for him.

"I'm sorry." He said. You looked up to him, for the first time since he sat down. He looked guilty, and you felt a bit bad. You flashed him a small smile, which calmed his nerves a bit. "Go upstairs." You commanded, and he immediately knew what you meant by that.

"S-sweetheart-" He fumbled over his speech, trying to convince you that he didn't deserve this. "Now." You said sternly. He got up from his seat with a nod, then made his way upstairs.

You sat there for a moment longer before you grabbed cleaned up and started up the stairs as well. You made your way down the hall to your shared room, the floor boards creaked loudly with every step.

You walked up to the door, stopping for a second before turning the handle and stepping in. You looked over to the bed, and there sat your beautiful husband. He looked like a mess.

You couldn't help but pity him. He smiled nervously at seeing you enter. His thumbs twiddled together to keep himself somewhat calm. "H-Hello, my love." He said. You made your way over to him, placing a hand on each side of him and leaning in for a kiss. He allowed you to do so, groaning a bit at the way your tongues danced together.

You found him following your face, more like chasing your lips once you pulled away. You smiled at him, and he made his best attempt to smile back.

"I assume you know what's going on Luci?" You asked him. He slowly nodded in response. "Good," you continued. "Take everything off, I'll get your rope." You pulled away, walking over to a dresser on the other side of the room. As you rummaged through the drawer, you heard the sound of clothes hit the floor. The thought of how he looked made you sweat.

You turned around, rope in hand. You slowly made your way back over to the bed where he sat again, this time clothesless. Except for the white hat that sat atop his head.

Your gaze made its way to in-between his thighs, there laid his half hard cock. You smiled to yourself and brung the ropes to his now together wrists, then tied them above his head.

"Too tight?" You asked, pulling at the restraints lightly. "No." He said. "It's okay." You pulled yourself back and threw the rope towards the dresser, leaving the mess for later. You leaned into him again, using one hand to cradle his cheek, the other to stroke his hard on.

He moaned into your mouth and bucked his hips up into your hand. You immediately pulled away. He whined at the loss. "You should know better sweetheart." You stated, and he mumbled an apology. You brought yourself down so you sat right infront of his cock. You looked up before taking your tongue and licking from the base to the tip.

He whimpered and tossed his head back. "F-fuck angel.." satisfied with this reaction, you brought yourself down completely onto him, his tip hit the back of your throat. He moaned loudly and squeezed his eyes shut. You set a steady pace as you bobbed your head up and down pulling a variety of sounds from his throat.

You felt his cock begin to twitch in your mouth. He was close. "Shit-! D-don't stop, please, please don't." Right as you felt he was about to release, you pulled off, leaving him a mess and unsatisfied.

He whined like a child and groaned. You grabbed where the rope was connected to the top of the bed and untied it. He thought you were letting him go but boy was he wrong, very wrong.

"Scoot back." You instructed. He reluctantly did what you said, still whining about being denied. Once he was by the headboard, you tied him up once again, but now he was more comfortable.

He sprawled himself out before you, showing every part of his beautiful pale body. You got off the bed and started to take your clothes off as well. Once you were naked, as he was, you got back up onto the bed.

Sat on your knees infront of him and leaned forward, grabbing his hat off his head and placing it on your own. "So pretty." He praised as you brought your hand down to your pussy and slid your fingers in between your wet folds. Lucifer couldn't help but be in a trance at the sight infront of him. You were so beautiful, you could make him cum just by the way you looked at him.

You pulled your fingers away. They were now covered in your slick. You took those fingers, and placed them in Lucifer's mouth to suck, which he gratefully did. He moaned at the taste of you, wanting nothing more than to eat you out till you couldn't think straight.

Keeping your fingers in his mouth, you crawled your way up so you hovered right above his hips. Without a second thought, you slammed down onto him. He cried out, biting down on your fingers and squeezing his eyes shut.

You moaned too, his tip hitting your g-spot perfectly. "Good boy.." you whispered, bringing your free hand to run your hand down his chest. "You look so pretty like this." His cheeks flushed and you smiled warmly at him.

He bucked his hips up, and in response, you brought your hand down to his thigh, hard. This resulted in him crying out. You pulled your fingers out of his mouth, refusing to move.

He began to plead with you. He already was denied before, he couldn't handle this too. "Please baby," he whined "Please please please, I promise I'll be good. I'm so so sorry angel. Please fuck me."

Seeing him such a pleading mess infront of you turned you on more than anything could. You did as he asked and slowly sat up, feeling him drag inside you before slamming down again. This continued, moans and other sounds coming from you both. You quickly began to speed up.

"Yes yes yes yes, don't stop." He cried, "W-wanna touch you." Sweat dripped down his features as he tried everything he could to get loose.

You yourself also felt that coil starting to tighten, your pace brutal and quick. You had to bring a hand to your head to make sure the hat stayed on. "S-shit Luci, gonna.. cum." You said, tossing your head back in pleasure. "So, close.." You both said, each orgasm hitting at the same time. Your body shook and he rutted into you, a deep groan coming from his chest as hot ropes of his cum painted your insides.

You collapsed onto him, still having tiny spurts from the after-effects. His gasps as well as your pants could be heard. After about a minute or so, you sat up and smiled weakly at him. He did the same. You leaned down and grabbed him by his face.

"Promise me that you'll never keep me waiting like that again, okay?" You said sternly. He loved when you were dominant. "Yes darling." He whispered and you placed a peck to his lips before grabbing his wrists and untying him.

His arms shot out towards you, and pulled you down onto his chest, the hat falling off in the process. He peppered your face with kisses, holding you so tight that you couldn't get up even if you wanted too.

You giggled and laid your head on his chest, his cock still embedded inside you. He flipped the pair of you over so he was now laying on you. He buried his face in your boobs with a giddy grin on his face.

"I love you so much my darling." He mumbled from your chest. You smiled and kissed his head, your hand rubbing his back.

"I love you too, cowboy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This definitely isn't my best work, but I used past tense, which I normally don't use. I hope it still sounded decent regardless of how unput together it was. Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed! I have another fic in the works that'll hopefully be out within the next week. Love you guys🫶🏻

Here's the original drawings

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin lucifer #hazbinhotel #fanfic #lucifer #lucifer smut #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar/reader #bottom lucifer #cowboy #cowboy au #Cowboy Lucifer #hazbin

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pedgito · 2 years

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𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 pt. ii ✧ ˚ · . 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: reeling from the night before, eddie's mixed signals lead to new revelations and a spontaneous night of activities that you can't help but play along with.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), virgin!reader, first kisses and more, skinny dipping, oral (f recieving), handjobs, hair pulling, lots of cute interactions, it's a lot calmer than the first part lol. if i miss any tags pls let me know!

word count: 7.7k ♡ part one, part three

There had been radio silence from Eddie the entire morning.

You shoved the dice in Eddie’s hand when you caught him at lunch, roughly slapping them down into his palm and curling his fingers over them, assuring they were squeezed shut. Eddie’s stricken with a wordless response, staring up at you with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape—his brain is short function behind those sweet brown eyes, realization settling into him as he thinks back on the night prior, hand wrapped tightly around his cock as he swayed you toward an orgasm, all while desperately starving himself from his own.

He watches you sit down, pulling your lunch tray closer to your chest. A baby carrot gripped tightly between your thumb and pointer finger, the crunch deafening in the silence that had fallen over the table. The other side of the problem suddenly dawns on him, pulling your own pair from his jacket pocket, sliding them gently onto the tray, the small clinking grabbing the attention of the entire group.

“I’m sensing some hostility,” Dustin ponders, eyes squinted as he glances between the two of you, “what did he do this time?”

“Huh?” Eddie’s wounded by the accusation, hand pressed to his chest in offense, “Why is it always me?”

“Because, it is always you.” You reply sharply, using the weak plastic fork to stab into the dry spaghetti, twirling the noodles around the utensil but never making the trip to your mouth. It made you want to barf. “Isn’t it?”

“That prank you pulled last year that ruined her science project?” Dustin recalls, watching Eddie’s face fall at the memory.

It was harmless, Eddie had so foolishly assumed, sneaking up behind you one dreary, rainy Monday morning–already frazzled by how soaked your project was– scaring the daylights out of you; thus sending your project, which had taken days—days, you’d told him. Hours of paper mache and labeling, just to get everything right, all ruined in the small span of ten seconds, the sad remnants left to wilt away on the ground. He apologies for a week straight, following you around like some sick puppy, but to no avail. Eventually though, you got over it and it wasn’t hard to forgive him. Still, you would never forget.

Eddie really knew how to get under your skin, through pleasure and pain; the pain of annoyance, to be clear. It wasn’t his voice, or his personality—it was the unbounded lack of self awareness and grandioseness.

“So, what did you do?” Dustin pushes, all of the boys now narrowing in on the both of you.

“Nothing.” It’s simultaneous, both of you glancing up with narrowed eyes, quickly flicking back toward your trays. Eddie shoved a small almond into his mouth, chewing harshly.

“Shit, maybe I was wrong.” Dustin concedes, hands thrown up. “Was it you, then?”

Dustin’s staring at you expectantly, determined to get to the bottom of this obvious tension between you and Eddie—though, you are having none of it.

“Dustin, I’m giving you five second to drop it before I tell this entire table that Suzie said—“

“Okay!” He shouts over you, hands waving around in panic, begging you to stop. “I’ll drop it.”

It’s a low grumble, dejected at how easily he’d been subdued by you; he couldn’t help how head over heels he was for his girlfriend, even talking to you about it in confidence—but you weren’t afraid to use it as armor if need be. Dustin really needed to learn his limits.

Your lunch gets cold, the lingering silence switching from awkward to extremely uncomfortable—you excuse yourself immediately. Eddie, unfortunately, doesn’t follow.

☆.｡.:*

You think about Eddie the rest of the day, despising yourself for it. He couldn’t find the courage to say anything to you, other than a simple nod or acknowledgment your way, despite how often you sought him throughout the day. Was he embarrassed now? You couldn’t find any reason why that would matter, having done what you did willingly.

He’s setting up the table for another campaign session after school that day, the entire trudge of boys piling in behind you, gabbing and talking about their days, all the while, Eddie meandering around silently, placing and displacing certain things. Dustin noticed too, leaning in over your shoulder from your seat—which so happened to be directly across from Eddie’s, traveling the long stretch of the table, you glanced in the direction of the long haired boy, his head turned away from the both of you.

“Did you break him?” It’s a valid question. None of you had ever seen him like this. Ever.

“I told you—I didn’t do anything.” You defend, voice hushed as you look over at your younger friend. “He’s just got a stick up his ass today, he’ll figure it out.”

“I hope so.” Dustin sighs, “He’s really gonna go hard with this campaign today, clearly.”

And it’s a stark difference from his usual relaxed demeanor as he directs the narrative, almost harsh in the way he delivers his lines. It’s almost like he’s attempting to rush through, which is unlike him, entirely left field from what you’re used to.

His fingers are curled around the privacy screen setup at his end of the table, eyes glancing up at you every so often. He thinks you don’t notice, but you’re so hyper aware that it’s impossible not to.

“Come on, Gareth—the lemures are dying, there’s no time for leisurely decision making. You either attack or flee.” Eddie demands, eyes scanning over the few of you huddled together, determine your plan of attack.

“Just fucking fireball it,” You suggest, exhausted from how hard your brain was working to follow the campaign, feeling like this was a losing battle from the beginning, “if we die, at least we’ll finally be put out of our misery.”

“Fine, fireball—we’ll fireball him.” Gareth decides, eyes glancing nervously toward you as he rolls. It’s just enough to give you that edge, ultimately defeating the horrible monster Eddie had conjured up—he smiles slightly, but it’s so faint you almost didn’t notice.

The campaign lasted nearly five hours, yet somehow, you felt energized, awake—but that was mostly the frustration that had built within you throughout the day, bothered by how irritated and distant Eddie seemed with you.

This was all his idea, originally—so how was this fair to you? Why did you have to feel guilty? It’s a partial reminder to yourself to never rely on anyone else for an orgasm, because clearly it was too difficult to even face that person afterwards (it's an absurd thing to think about, but it was true).

And while everyone else had already said their goodbyes, you lingered behind, helping him pick up like you always did, but there was a lot less talking and a lot more narrowly moving around each other, making it a point to avoid touching.

He huffs under his breath slightly, shoving the sprawled out papers into a folder, snapping it shut.

It’s a shock to your body, turning on your heels to look at him—his back was still tense, noticeable through the thin fabric of his shirt, his vest jacket slung over the back of his chair.

“Oh, would you fucking cut it out?” You nearly beg, talking to the back of him, hands thrown out to your sides in anger, balled into tight fists, “You’re acting like I scandalized you or something.”

His head turns slightly, the sharp line of his jaw visible to your eye, eyes dropping down to the floor. “Sorry,” He finally says, one of the very few words he’s spoken to you all day, “I’m not trying to—I just, don’t know what to say.”

“That’s news to me,” You laugh slightly, a little flippant sting behind your words, “If it’s really a problem we can forget it ever happened—“

“That’s not it,” He admits, turning his body to face you, sitting gently against the edge of the table, “I’ve wanted to talk to you all day—everyone is always around, though.”

You hadn’t considered that, honestly—not realizing how often Dustin or Mike trailed behind Eddie, or Gareth badgering you about some homework from the day prior as you walked to your next class, you were never truly alone, not until times like this.

Your lips pull together in a thin line, that nagging feeling of guilt eating away at you—maybe you had been too harsh on him.

“You seemed mad this morning when you gave me the dice.” He adds, idle fingers twisting his rings back into place accordingly, “I thought maybe you were upset about last night.”

“You did interrupt me,” You point out, “over something you could’ve just bothered me about at school the next morning—I was a little annoyed, don’t get me wrong.”

“But, if I hadn’t, maybe—“ Eddie starts, heading in a direction you were already well aware of.

“You’re making it awkward when it doesn’t have to be.” You remind him.

There was too much space between you both, Eddie feeling like he was on the other side of the planet, staring down meekly at his torn up Reebok’s.

“I know, I know,” He murmurs, chewing at his bottom lip, “I’ve never been in this situation before.”

“With anyone?” You ask, like Eddie gave up his free orgasm advice to anyone—it was a stupid question, but it slips out regardless.

“With a friend.” He corrects, eyes glancing up to lock with yours. “But, yeah–never with anyone else either.”

Friends. Just friends.

A friend who’s dick you pictured an awful lot, even before having him describe it to you—and even that feels dangerous to think about, knowing that you craved the idea of seeing your friend that way, stripped down and wanting.

“So, do we just forget about it then?” You ask again, more insistent this time as you approach him in small steps, “Like it never happened, right?”

“No,” Eddie says suddenly, “God, no.”

You tilt your head, pressing for more. Why? Why no?

“I can’t just forget shit like that.” He admits, his hand uncurling at his side, palm resting against the table. It’s a subconscious move, like he’s reaching toward you. “Can you?”

“I can lie and say yes, if that makes you feel better.” You tell him, soft laugh escaping your chest. “But, no—I don’t think there’s any way to just forget about it. Ignore it? Maybe. It doesn’t have to be weird, Eddie.”

“I know,” He agrees, nodding slightly, “Just—can I be honest with you?”

“Always.”

“It’s all I’ve been thinking about all day.”

And you sigh a silent breath of relief, because the sentiment was shared. Your cunt buzzed at the admission, feeling something stir inside of you. You blamed it on the lack of sexual interaction; it was a natural, after sharing something so intimate, that you couldn’t help but feel guilty thinking about—still, you were definitely thinking about it.

Eventually you arrived at his side, taking a careful seat on the side of the table beside him, feet perched up in a chair. He was silent again, thinking, following you closely with his eyes.

“That’s fair,” You shrug, deciding to not clue him in on your own selfish thoughts, his hands, his mouth, all of him; all over you, “Did you think I was going to make fun of you for it or something?”

“Maybe,” He says softly, eyes glancing from your face to the small gap between you both, hands pressed against the table, pinkies only a few inches apart. “I feel like I pressured you or something, which wasn’t my intention at all, I just—“

You don’t feel regret—shame maybe, at the idea that you couldn’t get the memory out of your mind, but there wasn’t an ounce of regret to be felt. “Eddie, I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I didn’t want to—it’s okay.”

You swallow your words for a moment, debating carefully on how to switch the conversation to something less debilitating.

“Besides, you’re pretty good at it.”

It isn’t what you mean to say, but it comes out anyway.

“Helping you come?” And the words are so crass to hear coming from his mouth, inches away from you, but you can’t help the way your stomach turns, fluttering pleasantly. “Really?”

He’s laughing and you can both agree that it’s a ridiculous topic to discuss, but neither of you bothers to stop.

You shrug, head tilted up to look at him, “Like I said, I don’t have anything to compare it to—but it was pretty good.”

“You’re so difficult to understand,” Eddie responded with fondness, a small smile spreading across his face, deep smile lines in his cheek making you blush, face warm with embarrassment.

“All you have to do is ask questions, Eddie—I don’t bite.”

Eddie gives you an unsure look, almost mocking in the way that he doesn’t fully believe you.

“Was everything you said true?” He finally asks, curiosity racking his brain. Part of him can’t believe you, it doesn’t seem real. Ruin me, Eddie. I want you to ruin me. It was the single most earth shattering thing he’s ever heard someone say to him.

You nod feebly, maintaining a comfortable eye contact, admiring the way Eddie looked at you freely now, less restricted and apprehensive—his eyes looked warm under the theater room lighting, pools of dark honey, dangerously inviting. “I wasn’t lying. I’ve really never done anything.”

“What about the time you had to kiss Gareth on that dare?”

You snort softly, remembering how mortified Gareth looked in the moment, having no courage to actually go through with it. “You were there! He kissed my cheek, remember? He was terrified.”

“Oh, yeah,” It dawned on him, a burst of laughter bellowing from his mouth—and the thing about Eddie, he always laughed with his full body, the sound vibrating throughout him. He was as physical with his actions as you’ve ever seen among anybody; so distinct to him, “well, sorry.”

“Sorry?” You’re confused, eyebrows pinching together. “For me not being kissed? It’s not that big of a deal, you know.”

“Everyone should get to experience it once,” He defends, hands shoved deep into his front pockets as he shrugs, his head leaned down far enough that his bangs almost obscured his eyes—still, he was looking at you, “it’s important.”

“I’m eighteen—I still have time.” You remind him, “Plus, not everyone has their first kiss at fourteen, Eddie. Some of us are late bloomers.”

Eddie huffs a laugh, seeing the rightful argument you were making—despite that, he couldn’t shake the fact of the matter and what you’d said to him. Had it been true? Was it just a heat of the moment thing? Ruin me. It rang through his head again.

“If it bothers you that much—kiss me.”

The boldness is sudden, but you were over the harping about it—get it out of the way; easily taken care of. Eddie wasn’t a stranger, he was someone you genuinely trusted.

“You sure?” You admire that care he has, leaning away from you slightly to get a full view of your face, noticing just how serious you were.

“If you don’t do it, I will.” You challenge him, feeling your inside burn with anticipation.

Despite Eddie’s unconstrained confidence, he’s second guessing himself during, possibly, the most crucial moment he’s had so far in his young life. He watches the way your eyebrows draw up, almost a—well, what are you waiting for?—type of expression washing over your face.

He shuts everything off; his mind, his thoughts, his anxiety, and leans forward.

His palm is really warm, burning against the already hot skin of your cheek, blushed red with how easily he gave in—you half expected him to back out, stutter his way out of another conversation with you today. And his lips, they’re soft; not like you would expect, still cracked from his constant habit of licking his lips, but they’re plush and warm and perfect as they glide against your own in a careful dance—a balance of sincerity and care.

You make a small noise, a tiny little gasp, feeling the back of Eddie’s hand—the one not holding your face, creeping around to the small of your back, pulling you toward him as he moves to stand between your legs, leaving you crowded back against the table. It’s hard to process while Eddie is kissing you so thoughtfully.

It’s innocent and explorative, but he’s desperately trying not to cross any boundaries, only ghosting the top of his tongue across your top lip by accident when he kisses back too enthusiastically, feeling the way your chest arches toward him, wanting to feel closer to him. You’ve never made out with anyone—if you could call this that, but it’s glorious.

Your hands are still planted against the table, chair holding your legs forgotten, resting lazily against the table, the feeling of denim against denim as your inner thighs rubbed against the rough line of his jeans.

“Well, that’s another box to check off.” You say lightly, taking the opportunity to breathe as Eddie leans away, looking smug at the admission despite his early hesitation. “You really are trying to ruin me, aren’t you?”

It’s meant to sound playful, but it strikes a cord deep inside of Eddie.

“Only if you want me to.” He supplies, taking a small step back, still close enough that you can feel his body heat radiating off of him,

You smile so hard your eyes squint, eyelashes touching at the corners. There was always something about Eddie that you couldn’t quite put your finger on—but maybe this was it. He was a solid reminder that you could enjoy yourself; indulge in what you wanted and not take everything so seriously. He was a needed distraction in your life and you were welcoming it with open arms.

“Give me a ride home?” You ask shyly, poking at his hipbone playfully. Eddie chuckles, grabbing the tender spot like you’d wounded him.

“Your chariot awaits, princess.” Eddie bows, fishing for the keys in his pocket as his arm extends out in waiting.

☆.｡.:*

Eddie’s humming along to the beginnings of another Dio song, kept at a comfortably low volume so it doesn’t burst your eardrums—he knows how much you hate the loud music, despite actually enjoying most of his song choices.

The drive is slow, peaceful—the sticky and warm humid of the air leaking through the half cracked windows; nights like these make you hate the end of summer, the heat nearly unbearable some days.

“The windows still busted,” He tells you, “Otherwise I’d roll it down more.”

“It’s okay, Eddie.” You assure him, pulling at the loose shirt you had on, slipping it over your head—luckily you spare some of your modesty for him, a thin strapped tank top underneath.

It bared a small bit of your midriff—though, Eddie didn’t seem like he was bothered, not from your perspective anyways.

“Any plans tonight?” Eddie asks, hoping to break the silence that had fallen, glancing over at you sparingly.

You smirk to yourself, reading around the context of the question without Eddie realizing. He wasn’t as smooth as he thought he was, clearly.

“You can call me, if that’s what you’re wondering.” You reply smugly, legs crossed over the other, hands resting against your thighs, fingers looped together loosely.

“You—you want me to call?”

“Sure,” You shrug indifferently, “We are still friends, Eddie—we’ve talked on the phone before; if it leads to more…well—“ You shrug again, offering a small, reserved smile.

His brain is not capable of processing this shit. Eddie always had the worst luck in the world, plans always turning upside down on him, things never working out—but this, he couldn’t let this one go. He’s got an idea swirling in his head, but he’s too afraid to say it outright.

“What’s your curfew again?” Eddie asks casually, fingers tapping against the worn steering wheel, the lack of luminosity from the street lights makes it hard to examine his expression, his heart thrumming in his chest like a jackrabbit—it felt like it was going to burst out any second.

“Uh, ten,” You respond, offering a puzzled expression. You quickly grab his wrist, glancing at his watch, “It’s only eight, so I’ve got a couple hours.”

Eddie nods silently, turning down a street that definitely did not lead to your home. His mischievous nature gives him away immediately.

“Eddie,” You speak carefully, drawing out his name, “If this is going to get us arrested you better turn around.”

“Hey, last time was a fluke—“ He defends, quickly skipping past the topic, “besides, you’re safe with me.”

“I know.”

Eddie smiles, turning around a long bend, leading to a closed off wooded area, large lake off in the distance.

“Lover’s Lake?” Confusion hits you, watching Eddie’s eager hands twist the keys from the ignition, bouncing out of his seat and toward your side, opening the door.

“Gotta start your rebellion at some point, right?” He grins, nodding toward the lake.

Your face pulls up, nose scrunched in confusion. Eddie laughs loudly, slipping off the jacket—which despite the heat, he still wore; it was true dedication. But, it doesn’t take you long to fit together the pieces of the puzzle that Eddie was conveniently leaving out.

“Skinny dipping?” Eyes wide, they follow Eddie’s departing figure, jacket tossed haphazardly on the hood of his van. “Eddie—I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“You’re kidding me?” He was so infuriating.

Yet, you still followed him, eagerly.

“What? I won’t look.” Eddie shrugs, toeing off his shoes when you reach the point where water meets muddy foliage. “You’re always talking about how you want to experience more—well, why not this?”

“What if someone comes out here?”

No one ever came out to Lover’s Lake anymore, you both knew that. It was a weak attempt to feign your disinterest, but really, you were a giant bundle of nerves.

“Look—it’s hot as shit, I’m jumping in. You can watch or join, I’m leaving that up to you.” Eddie pulled his shirt over his head, skin stretching over his back—you’ve never realized how beautiful shoulders could be until you’ve seen Eddie’s.

But really, everything was beautiful on him.

“Dammit.” You mumble to yourself, Eddie reaching for the button of his jeans—and you want to avert your eyes, you do, but he’s doing it on purpose; hoping for you to steal a look, a glance—hell, even a peak. It wasn’t like you didn’t already have a vivid picture in your head.

“Last chance, princess.” He calls out, slipping his jeans and boxers off in one fluid movement.

“Eddie!” You gasp, somehow still shocked by his boldness; part of you couldn’t help not being able to grasp what was happening.

He turns to you, hands grasped over the part of himself that you were most intrigued about, your eyes stay locked on his, despite how hard you fight the urge to glance down. Eddie’s looking at you, almost expectantly. You hated how right he was; how badly you wanted to experience as much as possible, yet terrified at the idea.

“Shit—fine, I’ll do it.” You finally cave, Eddie grins wide, turning on his heels to skitter towards the water; the glance you steal of his ass is purely indulgence.

☆.｡.:*

Eddie is underneath the water as you tread through, the cold water against your skin feeling foreign, heart racing in your chest as you dip far enough beneath the surface that enough of your breasts are covered, your hair sticking against your skin from the water splashing back in your face.

“How does it feel?” Eddie asks suddenly, heading popping above the surface, pushing his wet hair away from his face.

It’s strange, not having half of his hair obscuring his face. You smile, though your tone is still entirely deadpan and serious.

“Cold.”

“Not the water,” He laughs, flicking a droplet at your face, “your heart’s racing, isn’t it?”

You nod sheepishly, eyes wandering toward the shore. It was dead, dark, not a car or person in sight. You had nothing to worry about, yet somehow, you couldn’t help but worry—though, it was all mostly harmless.

“We’re safe.” He assures you, wading closer. “Here,” He takes a handful of water and pours it over your hair, wetting the rest of what wasn’t submerged in the lake, “that’s better.”

Your lips purse at the water that drips down your face, eyes squinting at Eddie’s expression; the smugness was evident.

“You’re enjoying yourself too much.” You point out, shoving his hand away gently. “How often do you do this?”

Five, ten, maybe a hundred times, no doubt.

“Never,” Eddie admits, “this is the first time.”

Your hands surface to push his shoulder, a little rougher than you intended. “Then how do you know this is safe?”

He senses your panic, grasping your elbow, his fingers settling in the dip of it, adjusting you to look toward his now abandoned van. “Look,” He points out a particular bend in the forest, a place that looks clear enough but still gives a decent view of the water, “I come out here at least once a week, just to smoke—Wayne hates the smell in the trailer, so, I try to improvise. Either way—no one ever comes out here anymore. Well, aside from me and a few homeless people, but I promise. We’re completely safe.”

You sigh, that small tinge of doubt in your stomach starting to dissipate, still hyper aware of his burning touch, even through the bitter cold of the water.

“You’re corrupting me, you know.” You confess, face turned away from him as you moved away, swimming further from the shore, feet barely touching the lake floor. “Is this all a part of your master plan, Eddie?”

You’re joking, he knows that. He can hear it in your voice, but the idea has something twisting inside of him. Eddie smiles, unbeknownst to you.

“You caught me.”

“You called me the other night with a plan, huh?” You press.

No, he hadn’t.

“Maybe,” He agrees with you, the splash of the waves against your back indicating that he was moving closer, you could hear him, almost predatorily slow. “Does that bother you?”

You shrug. It didn’t, not in the slightest.

“So, what’s your plan now?” You push, feeling the tip of his chest brush against your shoulder blades, just hovering.

And truly, he didn’t have one. It was an idea born out of spontaneity and Eddie flowed from one step to the next, not sure what he was expecting to happen. But, he feels it—the sense of tension that was building, lingering between you both like it had during the call from the previous night.

“Well,” His fingers brush the hair away from your shoulder, touch ghosting over your skin. You can feel his breath, his lips, right against the shell of your ear. You try desperately to hold back the full body shiver that runs through you, “want to check another box off your list?”

His forwardness is an act, a mask to cover how fucking nervous he was. His hands shook as they curled around the back of your neck, but you couldn’t see it—only feeling the dip of his thumb at the start of your spine.

Your head leans back on its own accord, his lips coming into full contact with the side of your face—and he chuckles, you can’t help the way your cunt clenches at the sound, not daring to make any sort of eye contact with your friend, who was pressing himself up against you so openly—feeling every point of him, despite the hindrance of the water. You gulped softly, too quiet for Eddie to hear.

“What do you have in mind?” You finally speak, voice sounding pathetically weak.

“You trust me, right?” He speaks softly, his unoccupied hand reaching around to cover the expanse of your stomach, turning you gently until you face him, “I just want to hear you say it.”

It’s the only thing he cares about—despite the weird mess you’ve both tangled yourself in, he wanted to make sure you were comfortable, the idea of pushing you into something you didn’t want was the last thing he needed.

You nod slowly, his hand creeping around to caress the side of your face, thumb pressed against your jaw as he angles your face to look at him. Say it, his eyes speak, making contact with yours. “Yes, I trust you.”

☆.｡.:*

Eddie’s deliberate in the way he kisses you this time, no fear of having to hold back, it’s full and pleasant and everything you had always expected it to be—albeit, not with Eddie, but you weren’t complaining. His hands are buried in your hair, angling your head up to reach his lips, leaving you to chase them desperately every time he pulls away, adjusting you until you’re pressed up against, nothing but bare skin against bare skin, the peaks of your breasts surface just above the water. The water ripples against your already sensitive nipples, gasping openly into Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie laughs lowly, pulling back to make eye contact with you, his gaze burning into your own. “Sensitive?” He asks coyly. You roll your eyes in casual annoyance, the smirk on his face growing by the second.

“Cold. It’s cold, Eddie.” And truly, it was. Even with the kiss of summer heat and humidity against your skin, the water was nearly freezing. “Want to tell me what you have planned so we can move this along—maybe somewhere out of the water?”

“How do you feel about me going down on you?” He asks sweetly, almost sickening. “That is, if you’re up for it.”

Did he think you were scared? Suddenly faced with the reality of everything, staring him down face to face, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride run through your body, realizing just how badly Eddie wanted you. He’s never been this sweet—to anyone.

Eddie knew you were special; different from all the rest, in all the best ways. He knew that from the moment he’d met you, set you up in Hellfire and neatly tucked you under his wing, along with the rest of his friends—but you, you were the one who he thought about when he was most vulnerable, the only person who really knew who he was.

“Gotta see if there’s any truth to those claims, right?” You counter, his face twitching up in amusement.

He doesn’t give you time to react before he’s hauling your legs up and over his hips, wading through water until he’s back on land. He ignores the haphazard pile of clothes, despite your protests, swinging open the door to his van with a free hand, other gripping tightly around your waist. You want to protest, complain and force him to put you down, but made some excuse about not wanting you to get dirty—despite how dirty you felt now, being settled down onto the base of his van, blanket already spread out from Eddie’s frequent use of the space for his own hotbox sessions, he even has a couple of thread-worn pillows shoved in the corner.

And it’s not until you’re finally settled that you realize how intensely Eddie is watching you, hands settled at the base of your ankles. His naked, completely bare—and you can’t remember any other time you’ve seen it before; someone so unashamed of their body, taking time to admire your own just as much. You’ve seen his tattoos up close before, but not like this–the small flurry of bats over his arm, or the few that lingered over his chest, now flushed a light pink from how deeply he was indebted in this.

“Sorry—“ He finally says, noting the small glide of his hands up your shins, then back down, like he’s caressing your legs, “just trying to take a mental note, in case I’m a disappointment and this never happens again.”

You let out a gasp that quickly turns into a small giggle, shoving him gently in the stomach. You were guilty, doing almost the exact same.

He’s toned, which isn’t a surprise—he didn’t try to hide it, those occasionally too tight shirts giving him away. His skin is milky, alabaster white and muddled with light freckles, the trail of hair at the top of his chest leading down to his lower abdomen, just at the base of his dick—which, seriously? He had enough to be proud about, but you half expected him to lie during the call, boost himself up; it was all true. Every single bit.

He’s not fully hard, but it’s still enough to intimidate you—Eddie clears his throat unnecessarily, left eyebrow quirked in amusement.

“Are you still with me?” He asks, arms crawling forward to lean over you slightly, body like a curtain against your own. You try not to think about the proximity, how easily you could reach up and pull him to you, feel that glide of his cock against you—just to put you both out of your misery.

“Hey, you get to see mine, it’s only fair I get to see yours.”

He laughs at that, brushing hair away from your face, lips settling against the line of your jaw, a small chaste peck, then switching to the other side to repeat the process. “Any judgments to be made?” He asks curiously, almost teasing.

“I’m not giving you anymore unnecessary ego boosts, sweetheart.” You say with a saccharine type of sweetness.

Eddie doesn’t need you to elaborate, that was already enough of an ego boost in itself. He tries to ignore the way you’re looking at him, so intently; not that he didn’t want you present in the situation, but he felt like you were looking right through him, sensing every bit of anxiety and nerves that riddled his body like a sickness. It wasn’t his first go at this, but with you—he was too afraid to fuck up.

You see the gears in his brain working overtime, trying to jump that initial hurdle of awkwardness—thankfully, you knew just what to do.

“Can I?” You ask, nodding down to where your hand grazed against his stomach, just above the line of his groin.

“Uh—yeahyeah, of course.” He rushes out, watching your timid fingers graze the tip of his dick, gently grabbing the base of his shaft. You didn’t know what to expect, but the way Eddie’s leaning into your touch is a good enough indication that you weren’t totally fucking things up.

“What feels good?” You ask shyly, your hand at a slow, graceful pace as you tug at him, watching the way he’s forcing himself to breath slower, through his nose.

He rocks his hips gently in time with your hand, “Tighter—a little—yeah, that’s good.” He says, feeling your hand tighten around his cock, the groan he forced back down has you lighting up, almost smiling at the revelation of how easily worked up Eddie could get; it wasn’t a wonder why he had a hard time holding himself off.

“Is this better?” You ask softly, “then—you know, your own hands?”

He chuckles at your curiosity, eyes glancing up to look at you, hair already partly dry, his bangs curtaining his eyes. He had such a timid innocence to him, under this light, in the belly of what could be something dangerous for your friendship—but, neither of you could seem to care anymore.

“So much better.” He nods gently, groaning outwardly at the movement of your thumb sliding over the head of his cock, a small pearl of precum wetting your finger; so you do it again. A few times, until he’s rocking up into your hand in earnest.

“Fuck—we gotta stop.” He warns, swatting your hand away kindly, fingers wrapping around the length of your wrist.

You want to pout, like some spoiled child—but instead you sigh, letting him guide your hands back toward your chest. He doesn’t give much warning before he leans in, capturing the bud of your nipple between his teeth, gently, but the sting is still there—quickly soothed away by the flat of his tongue.

“So pretty–just like I imagined.” He admits pathetically, speech muffled against your skin. That was something to unpack for another day.

You gasped, feeling his mouth capture the other, repeating the process before leaving small, open mouthed caresses against your breasts—you weren’t even sure if you would call them kisses, but they felt good. The warmth of his mouth, the wetness of his tongue, suddenly it was hot again, stuffy in the small containment of the back of his van.

You moan, so softly you weren’t even sure he’d hear it. But, of course he does, pulling back with a salacious and satisfied smile, reaching up to capture your lips in a kiss that can only be described as breathtaking.

Friends definitely didn’t kiss like this. Absolutely not.

“Eddie—Eddie, I still have a curfew.” You force through his assailant of kisses, his tongue a small tease as it traces your bottom lip. You warn him again, this time forcing him to look at you.

And friends definitely didn’t look at each other like that.

☆.｡.:*

He settles between your thighs soon after, wrapping his arms around the outside of your thighs, fingers pressing into the soft flesh there, spreading you open wide, leaving you almost no place to hide.

You take a long, deep breath—reminding yourself that you had nothing to worry about, you were safe here.

“You ready?” Eddie asks, a bouncy eagerness to his voice, feeling the heat of his breath against your cunt, what once was a dull buzz now a steady pulse inside you, deep and needy.

You nod eagerly, Eddie’s hang reaching up to spread your folds apart, finger dragging through jestingly.

“Eddie.” You warn, or beg—you're not sure which, but he understands. You weren't ready for him to sink his fingers inside you, afraid this would all be over quicker than you both wanted.

“I won’t.” He assures you, just applying the small bit of pressure you need to keen forward, grind against the flat of his palm. It was a lot like your own hand, in a way—but also completely foreign. “Just wanna ease you into it.”

And he does, letting you chase the gentle glide of his fingers against your folds, occasionally dragging over the swell of your clit, your hips chasing his hand, over and over again, desperately.

“Need it,” You beg, propped up on your elbows to look down at him, “wanna know.”

You were dying; dying to know.

He bites at the inside of your thigh, soothing the skin with his tongue, trailing a line of quick nips up the sensitive skin. You make a small noise of complaint, begging him to put you out of your misery.

Eddie doesn’t waste anymore time, leaning forward to lick a broad stripe up the seam of your cunt—even the first touch has you reeling, hand immediately tangled in the damp mess of curls at the top of his head.

You hear the messy, embarrassingly loud shlick of your wetness as he laps it, small kitten licks as he leans forward to focus on the soft buttony point of pleasure, sucking experimentally.

It should be a criminal how fucking good Eddie is with his mouth.

“Ohoh—okay, huh,” You ramble breathlessly, moaning out a sensical plethora of nonsense, noises that has Eddie groaning against you, vibrations like a wave of euphoria crashing down on you, “fuck, that feels really good.”

“Keep talking,” He urges, pulling away for half a second before he’s diving back in, face buried so deep into your cunt that you can’t even breath, tongue dipping inside of you carefully.

It caught you off guard completely, gasping out loudly into the air.

“Fuck, Eddie.” And friends definitely don’t say each other’s names like that.

“Too much?” He asks, his expression worried.

You shake your head fervently, “No—good. It’s so good,” You tell him, feeling the lack of motivation to form words now, despite his prior urges. “Keep going, please.”

And he does, openly groaning against your pussy, the sight of him grinding his hips down into blanket; it was something you couldn’t believe with your own eyes, but had you fighting off the urge to turn him over and sink down onto him, no more harping on the big red sign that said ‘I’m a virgin’—you wanted Eddie to consume that part of you completely.

“Come on, baby, wanna hear those pretty little noises.”

You could disintegrate into nothing at those words, letting the soft, wanton moans that you’d been holding back out, spurring him deeper and deeper into his own chase for pleasure, his mouth less controlled—more distracted, but still fucking incredible. He’s so desperate to come with you, reaching down to grab ahold of his cock, pulling idly as he kept up his lazy pace against the inner folds of your cunt, moaning out as his thumb slides over the tip of his cock, precum coating his fingers, making a mess of his own hand.

He speeds up the movement of his tongue, dragging over your clit relentlessly, using his hand to wrap around yours, still buried in his hair, forcing you to pull tighter. And it shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise—but it is, how easily it turns Eddie on by it. You pull roughly, enough to have him moving away from you, looking up at you with wide, dark eyes; pupils blown out.

“Use my face,” He urges, “I want you to.”

You do, chasing exactly what you want—Eddie eagerly slurping up your wetness, grinding your cunt selfishly into him, the tip of nose dragging over your clit sends you toppling over over the edge. He grips both of your thighs, pulling you as wide as your hips allowed—and he’s still going, overstimulating you past the point of what you can handle. He’s drunk on the sounds you’re making, forgetting where he is for the moment. You yank at his hair, hard enough that he groans out, pulling away from your cunt as you rode through your orgasm, you pulse over and over again, nothing there to satiate that need—leaving a dull ache where you were desperate for Eddie to be, fill you up completely; it doesn’t stop you from sobbing out a broken, “Fuck!” as you start to come down, eyes closing from the intensity of your own orgasm.

When you finally come to, Eddie’s face is scrunched up, nose wrinkled at the bridge. His tone is soft, but forced.

“Shitshit—“ He curses, head still held up by the grip you had in his hair, his face tightening as he came, mouth hung open in a silent plea.

You take a second to catch your breath, “What the fuck?” You ask, the ‘was that?’ on the tip of your tongue, but you’re too tired to finish.

Eddie laughs, face riddled with his own exhaustion. “Good, isn’t it?” You nod, loosening the death grip you had on his curls, smoothing out the hair to soothe the sore spot, though Eddie doesn’t seem to mind.

“I’ve never come that hard before.” You laugh, falling back against the bed of the van.

“I told you, princess—“ Seeing him from this angle should be a sin, face covered in your wetness, “there’s so much you’re missing out on.”

“No shit.” You smile softly, lifting yourself up to sit, following Eddie as he leaned away, reaching blindly for a discarded shirt in the back of the van, watching as he wiped at the front of his abdomen, covered in his own come.

His eyes flick up, noticing your intense stare, “Enjoying yourself?” He asks, challenging you to look away.

You shrug casually, eyes tracking his movements—“Wait, what time is it?” You ask, the watch on his wrist bringing you back to reality.

Eddie takes a glance at his watch, eyes widening in shared panic, “Fuck—five past ten.”

“Eddie!” You exclaim, “I’m dead—go grab our clothes.”

Eddie scrambled, racing to grab the discarded fabrics, tossing them into the space between you both, dressing quickly.

“If I get caught, you’re dead.” You warn, nearly knocking him over at the grin that spreads across his face.

He was clearly too proud of himself.

☆.｡.:*

“You’re lucky I’m a good climber.” You mention to him, eyeing the dimmed lights through the window of your home.

It was either, a.) walk through the door and risk an earful from a pair of worried parents, or b.) find a way into your second story bedroom and guilt your parents in the morning when they ask why you never came home—reminding them that, yes you did; how could they not notice?

Rebellion was becoming a normal theme in your life and you couldn’t hate how good it felt to feel—Eddie laughs softly behind you, parked across the street.

“Oh, are you?” He teases, arm sling loosely over the back of your seat.

You wish you could hate everything about him, but it was impossible, not with the way he was looking at you.

You scoff in faux disgust, shoving his face in the other direction. “You’re so gross, Eddie.”

He does watch you climb the lattice wall to your window, embarrassingly so, flipping him off in full when you’re finally able to slip through the threshold of your room, quiet enough that the only noise you make is a soft thud on the fuzzy carpet floor.

The high hits you later, curled under the sheets of your bed. It wasn’t Eddie who was influencing you, it wasn’t that easy—it’s because you wanted it. You didn’t want the idea of rebelling and doing everything that your parents tried to scare you out of, you wanted Eddie.

You wanted him as the friend he’d always been, but so much more than that. Eddie was always good at forcing you out of your comfort zone, for good, and you couldn’t help that love you had for that fear; of unknown and new experiences.

And he does call you that night, but not for any other ludicrous reason than to talk—hear you, listen to the tiny inflictions in your voice when he makes some stupid joke. He was in love with you, he already knew that—he was just waiting for you to catch up, dawn on the feeling that you had buried for so long, too afraid of rejection.

Eddie could absolutely ruin you; he already was.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #my writing #1kfic

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 1 year

Text

Short And Sweet

Bradley Bradshaw x short!reader (because im short and ive always loved it lol) 1.5k words

summary: Bradley is much taller than you. And when the jar of jam you need just so suddenly happens to be on the top shelf, he reminds you why you love that so much.

disclaimer, i wrote this in the span of two hours with legally blonde on in the background so idk how much sense it makes

top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs

(i HAD to use this gif even if it doesnt fit like. LOOK AT HIM)

Flying was freeing. Freeing in ways that you couldn't describe. Up in the air, you didn't have to worry about anything down there - anything stressful or straining or terrifying. You could be yourself with every fibre of your body. Adrenaline, pure adrenaline, pumping through your veins. Your heart hammering so strongly that you could feel it, hear it. The sound of your own laughter in your ears as you sped up, up and up, until you were going so fast that there was no one faster than you in the world, the entire world, no one faster. Chasing the clouds, the sun, the skies. Being so absolutely free.

And not that you felt bad down on the ground or anything. No.

But up in the air, you belonged. You'd known that this was where you were supposed to be, had always been supposed to be, the very first time you’d ever started a plane.

And the records mirrored just that - the fact that this was what you were supposed to be doing.

You'd worked your way to the top quickly. It had taken a lot, of course, you'd never pretend that it had been easy at any point. But you couldn't imagine ever taking a different path. So you weren't surprised that you'd ended up at Top Gun, and you weren't surprised that you'd graduated top of your class. No, you had worked hard for it, and you deserved it.

You weren't surprised either that you counted as one of the best, the very best, and not only in your year, but on active duty. It was flattering, sure, it was nice to hear, nice to know, and you were proud, but you still weren't surprised. This was who you were.

You were never surprised when it came to the navy, to your career. So you weren't surprised either when they called you in for a mission - back to Top Gun, back to San Diego where it had all started.

The very first time that something surprised you in all those years was when you caught sight of Bradley Bradshaw.

And then things continued to surprise you.

Now, as you stood in the kitchen of your very own apartment, the room filled with laughter and chatter, you were surprised by a jar of jam. More specifically that the jar of jam had somehow vanished from the fridge.

You needed this thing for dessert. Where the fuck could a jar of jam have disappeared to?

Apparently to the highest kitchen shelf, because that's where you spotted it a minute later.

You huffed to yourself, blowing a strand of hair away from your face that had fallen into your eyes. Someone must have used it and then forgotten that opened jars belonged in the fridge. And that someone probably had been your boyfriend.

You set your palm flat against the counter, pushed yourself up on tiptoes and reached out with your free hand, trying to grab the jar and failing miserably. You pushed up a little more, straining at this point, still not even grazing it with your fingertips.

Okay, so you minded your height a little sometimes. Like right now, for example, as you debated the odds of climbing up on the counter top without breaking your neck.

“Want me to lend you a hand there, baby?”

You rolled your eyes as you pulled back and turned to look at him - one of those stupidly attractive Hawaiian shirts on, sunglasses hooked into the collar of the white top underneath, looking way too innocent for the crime he’d committed.

“This is all your fault, Bradshaw”, you complained, pointing a finger at him accusingly. “Admit it, you put it there on purpose. You and I both know only your things go on the top shelf.”

He was grinning, not even trying to mask his amusement. You just huffed again and narrowed your eyes.

“If you don’t want my help...”, he trailed off and took a step back, pretending to go and leave you alone here, fighting for your life against a jar of jam.

“Oh no, no, definitely not, we are not playing this game. You admit right here, right now that you put it there on purpose or... or you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

His face fell at that and he stepped closer again, reaching for your waist and tugging you to him, leaning down to bury his head in your neck. His breath was hot against your skin.

“Don’t be mad, baby”, he whispered, pressing a kiss just below your ear, so soft that you almost missed it. “You’re just too cute.”

You gasped and hit his arm, drawing back to look at him. He was basically hunched over - so pretty much on the same level as you.

“I’m not cute”, you protested. “Baby kittens are cute. I’m an adult human woman. I’m not cute.”

He chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose, tilting his head to the side. “You are. Very.”

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. He saw it too, even as you did your best to hide it. His grin widened.

“Admit it”, he muttered. “You like that I’m tall enough to reach the shelves that you can’t.”

“Almost everyone’s tall enough to reach things I can’t.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m short, Bradshaw. I’m literally shorter than anyone else on the squad.”

He just raised his eyebrows as you bit your lip and avoided looking at him, instead pretending that the tiles were very interesting. Actually there was some dirt on there, so that was interesting, because you’d specifically told everyone to take off their shoes before they came in.

“Okay”, you muttered eventually, meeting his eyes again. “I do like that you’re tall.”

And then another thing that surprised you happened. Not because he leaned down to kiss you, not because you almost knocked his sunglasses onto the floor as you reached for his collar and pulled him closer, not because he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off of your feet, but because in that very moment, Jake Seresin decided to make his grand appearance.

He needed another beer.

He whistled when he caught sight of the two of you kissing, whistled so obnoxiously loud that you broke away in panic, so loud that Phoenix appeared in the doorway as well to check out what was happening. So loud that the rest of the squad perched in your living room turned and tried to peek through the door too.

Bradley still had his arms around you protectively, your toes were still not touching the ground and your hands were still gripping onto his collar, but you’d both turned to face Jake with wide eyes.

“Hooking up in the kitchen now, I see”, he grinned. “Better not get anything in our food.”

“We weren’t hooking up”, you said, just a little breathless from the kiss.

“Yeah, mind your business, Bagman”, Bradley added, angling you away from the door. You didn’t understand how he was holding you up so effortlessly. Even a man like him had to have some limit as to how long he could lift an entire person - but no. Apparently not. With how often he’d carried you around the apartment already you were beginning to think he had some kind of superpower.

“Just make sure to be safe, you two.” Jake had the audacity to wink. “You know, use protection. We need you both up in the air for another few years.”

You and Bradley seemed to take away two very different things from that.

“I’ll have you know we’re very responsible adults”, he said, while you grinned and asked “You need us?”.

Jake just scoffed, grabbed himself a new can of beer and marched back off into the living room. Phoenix stayed in the doorway with a quiet laugh on her lips.

“You two are watching the food, yes?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I think we’re able to multitask”, you said, resting your chin on Bradley’s shoulder as you looked at her. He turned you even further, setting you down on the kitchen counter, settling in between your legs. You watched her shake her head and walk back into the living room and then you saw nothing but that Hawaiian shirt anymore and you had to guess if the smile you’d spotted on her face had actually been there.

You had to tip your head back to look him in the eyes. He rested his hands beside your thighs, lowering himself just a bit. The silence was comfortable - although it could hardly be called silence with all the chatter coming from the next room - not heavy or forced. Eventually you sighed and leaned against the cupboard behind you.

“Will you grab the jam for me?”

The only answer you got was a chuckle and you were surprised once again as he leaned down to kiss you, hesitating just before his lips met yours, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards, swerving right, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“All you had to do was ask, baby.”

#top gun #top gun x reader #x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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istumpysk · 9 months

Note

Okay, given that you think the show switched around a lot of endings (very valid, to be honest), how likely do you think it is that they gave Tommen Tyrion's ending?

The gargoyles watched him ascend. Their eyes glowed red as hot coals in a brazier. Perhaps once they had been lions, but now they were twisted and grotesque. - Bran IV, AGOT

Stone and shattered gargoyles lay strewn across the yard. They fell just where I did, Bran thought when he saw them. Some of the gargoyles had broken into so many pieces it made him wonder how he was alive at all. - Bran VII, ACOK

Tyrion Lannister was sitting on the ledge above the door to the Great Hall, looking for all the world like a gargoyle. - Jon I, AGOT

Motionless as a gargoyle, Tyrion Lannister hunched on one knee atop a merlon. - Tyrion XIII, ACOK

I am by no means certain about Tyrion's endgame but I just came across these quotes while rereading ACOK and I am intrigued. What do you think?

I completely agree with your observation that George has intentionally connected Tyrion to the gargoyles.

"Yes. The gods have been kind to you, Sansa. You are a lovely girl. It seems almost obscene to squander such sweet innocence on that gargoyle." "What gargoyle?" Sansa did not understand. - Sansa III, ASOS

But I'm not sure what the takeaway is.

It seems quite probable that Tommen will throw himself from a window in Maegor's Holdfast.

There's the historical parallel:

Yet all these were as naught against the tragedy that descended on the court and king. On the twenty-second day of the ninth moon of 133 AC, Jaehaera of House Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and the last surviving child of King Aegon II, perished at the age of ten. The little queen died just as her mother, Queen Helaena, had, throwing herself from a window in Maegor's Holdfast onto the iron spikes that lined the dry moat below. Impaled through breast and belly, she twisted in agony for half an hour before she could be lifted free, whereupon she passed from this life at once. - Fire & Blood

Plus, throughout A Feast For Crows, George consistently emphasizes the iron spikes whenever Cersei is on the drawbridge:

She paused upon the drawbridge that spanned the dry moat, gazing down at the spikes below. - Cersei I, AFFC

She left him on the drawbridge that spanned the dry moat with its bed of iron spikes and entered Maegor's Holdfast alone. - Cersei V, AFFC

"Should Ser Loras fall, Your Grace will need to find another worthy for the Kingsguard," Lord Qyburn said as they crossed over the spiked moat that girded Maegor's Holdfast. - Cersei VII, AFFC

Lastly, in the epilogue, Kevan Lannister remarks about the iron spikes, then the text quickly transitions to the lack of available Kingsguard to watch over Tommen:

The dry moat surrounding Maegor's Holdfast was three feet deep in snow, the iron spikes that lined it glistening with frost. The only way in or out of Maegor's was across the drawbridge that spanned that moat. A knight of the Kingsguard was always posted at its far end. Tonight the duty had fallen to Ser Meryn Trant. With Balon Swann hunting the rogue knight Darkstar down in Dorne, Loras Tyrell gravely wounded on Dragonstone, and Jaime vanished in the riverlands, only four of the White Swords remained in King's Landing, and Ser Kevan had thrown Osmund Kettleblack (and his brother Osfryd) into the dungeon within hours of Cersei's confessing that she had taken both men as lovers. That left only Trant, the feeble Boros Blount, and Qyburn's mute monster Robert Strong to protect the young king and royal family. - Epilogue, ADWD

It's not a lot, but it's enough for me. Lol

As much as I'd love for it to be Tyrion, Tommen feels like the safer bet. :)

#stumpy ask #wintry-ritu

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supernovafics · 2 years

Text

𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐋𝐄

pairing: ari levinson x fem!reader

summary: in which it had been more than a year since you had last spoken to or seen ari, and with the painful way things ended between you both you were completely okay with never speaking to him again. however, it is a birthday party that finally places you both in the same vicinity and leads to one too many awkward and emotional encounters

word count: 3.9k words

warnings: angst, slight fluff, explicit language

author’s note: first time writing for ari and i’m surprised it has taken me this long lol (full folklore series masterlist here!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

❝i think i’ve seen this film before, and i didn't like the ending. you're not my homeland anymore, so what am i defending now? you were my town. now i’m in exile, seein' you out.❞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I’m surprised we haven’t talked yet today.”

You weren’t too shocked to hear Ari’s voice right then, mainly because you knew that having some sort of an actual conversation with him was inevitable. And, in fact, the only thing that truly surprised you about that moment was that it hadn’t happened sooner.

You turned your gaze toward him and lifted your shoulders in a simple shrug. “I don’t know. There really isn’t anything to talk about.”

There was definitely a lot that the two of you could talk about, but you wanted to pretend that everything was completely okay between you both. Because it had been a little over a year since you two had last spoken, and now everything actually was fine between you two, for the most part. Somewhat. Barely.

Ari gave you a look that called you on your bullshit, and you hated that somehow, after all that time apart, he could still read you so easily.

When you first saw him earlier that day, it startled you. Your mind immediately traveled back to the last time you saw him, which was a moment full of angry tears and yelling that you now looked back on as the best worst thing to ever happen to you.

Following the brief look at him that caused a million different emotions to wash over you in the span of a few seconds, you continued on with the conversation you were having and pretended as if you hadn’t been affected by his presence at all.

In hindsight, you really shouldn’t have been too surprised to see him; it was mainly his family at the party, after all. However, it was rare and almost a given at that point that he would not show up to family events because he was always so busy with work. This specific event was for his niece’s seventh birthday, which had the theme of both princesses and cowboys because Willow couldn’t choose just one. Although you and Ari were no longer together, you still remained great friends with his sister, Celia, which was the reason why you had been invited to her house for the birthday party.

You had looked away from Ari so quickly that you were unsure if he had noticed you in the expansive backyard, which was full of many people and a huge bouncy house that was probably the first thing he saw. However, you could practically feel his gaze on you, and when you finally met his eyes, even though the two of you were on opposite ends of the backyard, you could feel something silently being said between you both.

Absolutely nothing was verbally said, nor was any gesture made as the pair of you simply stared at one another for a few moments. When you finally pulled your eyes away from his, out of your peripheral vision, you noticed him look away as well and begin to greet some of his family members.

For some reason, you thought that would be the extent of interaction you would have with him at the birthday party. However, now there you both were, hours later, standing next to the bouncy house and watching the last few kids, including Willow, continue to bounce their little hearts out.

“What do you want me to say?” You asked him. Finally, breaking the minor silence that had been prevailing.

He shrugged halfheartedly. “The cynical part of me was expecting an immediate “fuck you” or “I hate you.””

You let out a soft sigh and met his gaze. “I don’t hate you, Ari.”

The statement actually had some truth to it. Yes, you had been angry at him for a long time, and there was even a period where you did find yourself hating him just a little bit. But that wasn’t how things were anymore. It was all different now. You were in a better place. Happier. Much happier than what you had been a year ago.

Ultimately, Ari pulled his eyes away from yours. You were unsure if he fully believed what you had said, and you were also unsure if you should allow yourself to care about what he thought anymore.

“How have you been?” He decided to ask instead of pushing further on the previous topic.

Typically, you hated small talk, but at that moment, you felt extremely grateful for the mundanity. Even if it was with someone that you couldn’t remember the last time you spoke simple small talk with because your relationship had once been so far past that.

“I’ve been good,” You told him, keeping your response short and simple. “Really good, actually.”

Once again, Ari was quiet, and you were unsure what that meant. You wanted the conversation to be over because the underlying awkwardness of it all was becoming unbearable. But, there was also a part of you that wanted to keep going because you had no idea when you would talk to Ari again.

You were about to speak, pose another mundane question just to say something, and fill the air of silence. However, before you could, Ari finally responded to your previous words.

“I don’t know,” He ultimately told you. “I don’t know if I can believe that. There’s something about you right now that’s telling me that’s not entirely true.”

You weren’t surprised by the bluntness of Ari’s words; his honesty was a quality that you had been pretty familiar with, but that didn’t mean that his words didn’t still sting. And his words didn’t only make you feel upset, but they made you angry too. You didn’t expect to feel so affected by anything Ari would say anymore, but him acting as if he knew shit about you and your life anymore made you actually want to say “fuck you” to him. He completely lost the privilege to make comments like that when he ended things a year ago.

“How could you possibly say that?” You said, keeping your voice level and trying hard not to let the all too familiar feelings of anger cause you to yell at the man standing next to you. “You don’t know me anymore, Ari. As hard as that may be for you to believe. Things are different, and they’re better than what they used to be. Than what we used to be.”

You didn’t allow Ari any chance to respond to anything you said before you walked away, sincerely hoping that he would not follow you. The minor conversation was over, and you couldn’t help but be mad at yourself that there was a moment where you had wanted it to continue.

You didn’t glance back at him at all as you walked over to where Celia was standing by the goodie bag table, which was unsurprisingly a huge mess due to how quickly the kids had ransacked it a little while earlier.

“Need any help cleaning up?” You asked her; however, you didn’t wait for a response before you began tossing half-empty and half-eaten items that were on the table into the garbage bag that was close by.

“You’re amazing,” She said, smiling at you. Things were quiet for a few moments as you both threw stuff in the garbage. “Also, he’s an idiot.”

You looked up at her. “You heard the conversation?”

“No, but I saw the ending,” She told you, and a part of you honestly felt glad that she hadn’t heard. “And when you walked over here, I’ve never seen you look that pissed before. So, whatever he said, he’s an idiot for saying it.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Celia’s words and feel so grateful for the friendship you had with her. And you weren’t even surprised that she was immediately on your side, even though she wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened with you and Ari.

Celia knew the ins and outs of your and Ari’s relationship, especially the aftermath of it. You had initially felt hesitant about it, but she was the first person you called when things ended between you and him. From the moment Ari introduced you both, the two of you just clicked, bonding over the most random things. Therefore, it had felt almost second nature to call her, and of course, she was there for you and helped you through it all.

You finally glanced over at Ari and saw him giving a small wave to Willow, who was waving wildly at him from inside the bouncy house. “Did you know he was coming today?”

“Honestly, no,” Celia answered with a small shake of her head. “Of course, I sent him an invite because I can’t not send him one. But I didn’t even know he was back in the states until today.”

You simply nodded at her words before continuing to toss things into the trash. Stealing another glance at Ari, a small part of you couldn’t help but feel upset that the first conversation you had in over a year ended badly. However, you were quick to push that feeling away because you refused to allow yourself to care when it wasn’t your fault that it had taken that turn.

If you were being completely honest, you couldn’t wait to go home because then you knew that you wouldn’t have to see him again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

❝ so step right out, there is no amount of crying i can do for you. all this time we always walked a very thin line. ❞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It wasn’t long before the final guests at the party left, and the only people remaining were you, Ari, Celia, her husband Theo, and Willow, who was currently fast asleep in Ari’s arms.

”Can you put her in bed?” Celia asked him as she took a sip from her wine glass. Since the party was over, she didn’t waste a second opening up a bottle because of how stressful the day had been. You didn’t blame her, and in fact, if you didn’t have to drive home yourself, you would’ve joined her and also had a glass.

“Yeah, no problem,” Ari answered and began heading to the back door. He walked slowly so that he wouldn’t wake Willow, but that didn’t seem to work because her head quickly popped up, and her eyes opened, almost as if she had never been fully asleep in the first place.

“I want Y/N to come too. She tells the best bedtime stories,” She said with a wide smile on her sleepy face.

You hesitated for a brief moment. The backyard was cleaned up, aside from the few tables and chairs that were still scattered about, and you were ready to say your own goodbyes to Celia and Theo and then head home. However, seeing that hopeful and happy glint in Willow’s eyes, you knew that you couldn’t say no to her, even if that meant being around Ari again.

“Yes, I’ll come too,” You responded and smiled at her.

Nothing was said between you and Ari as you walked inside the house. Instead, it was Willow doing most of the talking, successfully curbing all of the awkwardness as she rambled on about how awesome her party was and yawning between every few sentences.

You didn’t really want to speak to Ari again. You were completely willing and okay with leaving the previous conversation on that sour note, and you felt somewhat at peace with doing that.

So, you knew that once Willow was in her pajamas, tucked in bed, and you told her a story that would put her to sleep, you’d be able to leave without saying anything more to Ari.

“What story do you want to hear?” You asked as you knelt down next to Willow’s twin-sized bed; Ari was on the other side.

“Can it be something new?” The young girl responded. “Ooh, and it can be about cowboys and princesses?”

You laughed a bit because with what the theme of her birthday party had been, you should’ve easily seen that coming. “Okay… Oh, I have the perfect idea.”

You didn’t really have any concrete ideas for the story, but you began telling one anyway, pulling out whatever was coming to your mind, adding it in, and making sure that it all made sense.

Ari watched intently and had a small smile on his face as he listened to you tell the story to Willow. Your voice was both animated and soft, and he saw how intrigued, and happy Willow was as you spoke. That moment made him miss you more than he already did.

As you continued on with the story, you noticed how Willow’s eyes became heavier. You kept going but made your words softer and softer until you trailed off and stopped completely once she was sleeping.

“Good thing she fell asleep there because I had no idea how that story was going to end,” You said, realizing a little too late that your joking words had been directed at Ari.

“So, that means I’ll never get to know the ending?” Ari asked, and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his statement. However, you stopped yourself mid-laugh because it suddenly felt wrong to joke around with him, so it sounded more like you made a weird coughing sound.

Things became quiet as you both simply observed Willow’s even breaths and how peaceful she looked, and you were pondering exactly how you should finally make your exit and head home. But, before you could even get close to saying the word “goodbye,” Ari broke the silence.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. It was a really shitty comment to make.”

“It’s fine,” You told him. It didn’t really feel fine, but it felt better to say that rather than how you were really feeling, which was a mix of emotions that you couldn’t fully decipher anymore.

“Do you hate me for everything?” He asked, and before you could even think about answering his question, you both noticed Willow slightly stir in her bed.

You were quick to turn off her lamp and flick on the small bunny night light she had on her nightstand, and Ari followed suit as you quietly walked out of the room. He fully expected you to say goodbye to him and leave, but you didn’t. Instead, you walked into the bathroom that was across the hall, gesturing for him to follow you inside, which he did, and you closed the door behind you both.

You didn’t realize how small the bathroom was until the door was closed, and there was barely any room for you to take a few steps back so that you weren’t insanely close to Ari. Although this closeness made you feel slightly uncomfortable, you couldn’t allow yourself to leave just yet.

Ultimately, you didn’t answer Ari’s previous question, and instead, you asked one of your own. “Why do you keep thinking that I hate you? Do you want me to?”

“I don’t know,” He told you with a slight shrug. “At least then I would know you feel something toward me.”

“I will always feel something for you,” You said softly, deliberately avoiding his gaze and instead focusing on the shower curtain behind him. “I kinda hate that, but it’s true. And it won’t always be something bad. Right now, it isn’t something bad.”

Your honest words fell from your lips before you could fully think about them, and for a brief moment, you felt as if you had said too much. However, Ari spoke before you could further grow to regret your words.

“I’ll always feel something for you too,” He responded, voice matching the same softness as yours.

Maybe this was the vulnerable and honest conversation that you both finally needed to have with one another after a year of not speaking and leaving things on an upsetting note. Of course, this felt weird and foreign, and a part of you wanted to flee the bathroom, but it also felt relieving to let out at least a small fraction of the things that you had been harboring for a while.

“I can’t believe it took us over a year to get some type of closure with one another.”

“It’s not that surprising; we’re both stubborn as hell. And I’m also an idiot for not trying to reach out sooner,” Ari responded, and you almost smiled until you heard his next words. “I’ve missed you.”

You were quick to shake your head at him. “You can’t say that.”

“But if it’s the truth?”

“Then you’re just making things so much harder than they should be.”

A part of you missed him too, but you couldn’t allow yourself to say that. Nothing was different than what it had been a year ago. You were still you, and he was still him. The two of you already knew that things couldn’t work, so there was no point in falling back into anything, even if it felt almost too comfortable and easy to do so.

“How?” He asked, and you almost found yourself laughing at the one-worded question because of how obvious the answer should have been to him.

“Because we can’t do this anymore. Absolutely nothing has changed. You still go to different countries for months on end, and I’m still right here. At first, it was okay waiting for you to come back, but eventually, it got lonely, and I wanted more,” Your eyes were on his as you spoke, and let your final words come out quietly. “And you couldn’t give me more.”

“I’m not going back.”

You didn’t expect to be so affected by anything Ari would say anymore, but those four words hit you hard. They had been exactly what you had wanted to hear for forever. And finally hearing them inadvertently made your heartbeat speed up while simultaneously dropping into your stomach.

“What? Why?” You finally managed to ask after a short stint of unbearable silence.

“It’s time,” He stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “I’ve been wanting to for a few months now, and after a long mission in Morocco, I decided that would be the last one. I just got back a week ago.”

Considering how big of a bombshell his initial words had been, the follow-up “explanation” wasn’t enough for you. And then there was the fact that he was doing this now. Now, instead of a year ago when you had practically begged him to.

It got quiet again because you couldn’t find any words to say. Right then, the urge to leave the bathroom was stronger than ever, but your feet felt completely glued to the white tiled floor.

“I’m sorry,” Ari said, filling the silence.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because I know what you’re thinking.”

There were a million things circling your mind right then, so if he was able to sum all of it up in one succinct statement, you would’ve been very surprised.

“I know I should’ve done this a year ago, and I really wish I did. And I’m so, so fucking sorry that I didn’t.”

Maybe you still were an easy book to read because his words were an almost too perfect summation of what you had wanted to hear. It felt almost unfair to you that it took him over a year to finally say all of these things. They were the words that you had expected, hoped, he would say to you a day after ending things and breaking your heart, not a year after.

For some instances, the phrase “better late than never” worked perfectly, but not for this. It felt as if all of these confessions from Ari were coming way, way too late.

You had gotten to a place where you no longer felt sad or angry about how things ended between you and him. Instead, you were fully, or at least mostly, at peace with it all. And you really did not want to fall back into something that would only end with you once again hurting for months on end.

“Give me a reason, or just tell me why you’re finally doing this now, instead of then,” You said, and both you and Ari knew what the underlying question to your words were. “Why wasn’t I enough a year ago?”

“I was a selfish dumbass, and I didn’t realize how much I needed you until I didn’t have you anymore. But, I didn’t call you or say anything because I thought if I was stupid enough to let you go, then maybe I didn’t deserve to have you back,” Ari explained, and it was painful how truthful you could tell each and every one of those words were. “There wasn’t one moment that I didn’t think about you this entire year, though.”

It was a solid mix of sad and angry tears that hit you so abruptly and threatened to spill from your eyes. Sad because it hurt hearing Ari’s words, and angry because you wished you had heard them so much earlier.

“You should’ve called,” You muttered, hastily brushing away a stray tear that had rolled down your cheek. “All I wanted was for you to say something. Anything.”

“I’m sorry,” He whispered back, and you could hear his sincerity behind the simple two words.

You felt his hand reach for yours, and when he intertwined your fingers with his, you simultaneously hated and loved how much comfort you felt from having your hand in his again. He gave your hand a small squeeze before closing the minor amount of space between you both and wrapping his arms around you. Instead of tensing at his touch, you leaned into it. Your body was a traitor to how fickle and confused your mind felt at that moment. However, you completely accepted the embrace and reciprocated, burying your face in his chest and taking in his all too familiar smell that you had missed so much.

For the first time that night, the silence felt comfortable, and there was nothing more that needed to be said at that moment because it was all being conveyed nonverbally through the tight hug you two had found yourselves in.

You were unsure how long the two of you stood like that, but when you pulled away after what felt like an hour and also only a minute, you looked up at Ari.

“I should head home,” You said, and he nodded understandingly. He almost reluctantly said his final goodbyes to you; however, you began speaking again. “Do you wanna come?”

Ari couldn’t hold back his smile, and it took a lot within him to not lean in and kiss you right then; which was something that you actually wouldn’t have been completely opposed to.

With how royally he fucked things up a year ago, he was willing to take whatever you would give him and follow your lead with however you wanted to move things. And to him, your words felt like a move in a good direction, which was all he could really ask for and it was all he wanted.

“I would love to.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

❝ second, third, and hundredth chances. balancin' on breaking branches. those eyes add insult to injury. ❞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x oc #ari levinson #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine

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aeirithgainsborough · 1 year

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i just finished playing parts 1 and 2 of tlou for the first time and, as someone who has grown to love joel and ellie very much within the span of 72 hours and found their characterization in pt 2 to be straight up bizarre, your takes on the game are a godsend. the rage in my heart cannot be extinguished but it can be soothed. thank u for ur service 🫡

you’re welcome!! it’s baffling to me how many people seem to have mindlessly taken it all in, just letting themselves be force fed some bullshit morality tale with no thought cus… yeah it’s bad ajsjjs. the gameplay is good although a little repetitive since it’s more open, the graphics are stunning, and as a disabled person who can struggle with games sometimes the accessibility is next level. they definitely get credit for that!

but the narrative is terrible. for a start it’s chock full of contrivances. abby happens to find tommy and then when she’s looking for him after making a FOURTEEN DAY JOURNEY across a dangerous world she gets into trouble and who should save her but joel! who then runs into a lodge unarmed with a group of strangers after 20 years of being on his guard. and then ellie runs into the room too unarmed despite the noises she can hear coming from it, even though she took on david and his cronies at 14 and got the better of them lol? then they all travel another FOURTEEN DAYS no problems, they find who they need in a huge city, ellie leaves a handy map for abby to find her. it’s absurd. one or two contrivances i can ignore but when you’re that reliant on them for your plot it’s not good writing!

then there’s ellie ‘im scared to end up alone’ ‘you’re the only person to never leave me and id be more scared without you’ williams. a girl who lost her best friend/first love traumatically and had a whole ‘let’s make the most of the time we have left’ thing with her… and she doesn’t speak to the most important person in her life for 2 years?? not my ellie lmao. i can see her being mad. i can see her being cold to him. I can see that relationship being different bcus of joel’s lie. i can’t see her going cold turkey whilst living on the same property as him for that long. i can’t see her never asking him for a proper explanation in that time. she leaves everything behind eventually despite her fears and how important the notion of family is to her. bye dina and jj. and then at the end… it’s pointless! she didn’t even get her revenge after becoming unrecognisable, leaving her loved ones behind, and killing a slew of people to get there. nor does she develop lol AT ALL. at 14 she had survivors’s guilt and was ready to sacrifice her life bcus of that and a belief her life doesn’t matter and then at 19 she’s the same! there’s no lightbulb moment where she’s like OH my life does matter it does have value none of my friends’ deaths were my fault and i don’t need to die for absolution. there’s no moment she realises why joel saved her. she’s stagnant. it’s so miserable. and it haunts me what we could have had if joel hadn’t been killed off for torture porn shock value. if they’d had to go on some journey with their relationship cold and not As It Was and along the way ellie has that understanding that her life DOES matter. ‘no one wants the same story they played in tlou blah blah boring’ LOL YES?? ellie and joel are why ppl loved part 1 and that’s why they had to lie so much in the lead up to the game and marketing. ‘this is a story about joel and ellie that’s why we decided not to have it about new characters’ lie ‘we love joel and ellie and we’re going to treat them with respect’ lie, plus aging joel and ellie up in the trailers and inserting joel into the trailer in a way that made ppl think they were going on a journey. it was a deliberate lie to make ppl who wanted more joel and ellie buy the game and they told it for a reason. and besides there’s a difference between ‘i just met you and i don’t like you rn but slowly im gonna love you’ and ‘i love you but i don’t much like you’ and that difference is actually fascinating and could have been used to rlly good effect instead of… all those stupid contrivances and torture porn!

and then there’s joel lmao. even the opening when he says ‘i saved her’ is so funny his expression his tone it’s literally disney/marvel villain sjsjsjd i cannot take it seriously. beyond that there’s such a dissonance between a) what actually happens in part 1 and what they say in part 2 and b) the violent world they’ve put him/us in and then asked us to get across in one piece with a kid in part 1 and how he’s then judged for that in part 2. ‘get this kid across the country but when WE make it so you’re attacked in every chapter and have to defend yourself/ellie we are going to say joel is a cruelly violent man’ ‘get this kid across the county without letting her die when you’re attacked pls and btw in part 2 we are going to say you taught her violence and corrupted her’ never mind that it’s impossible joel could have done the job in the world THEY created and then punished us for acting accordingly in, but also that he doesn’t even give her a gun until using one makes her sick and it’s not a fun toy to her. and even then it’s for emergencies. he never attacks first, he only defends. and they made it that way! that specific world is useless in moralising to us about violence bcus of that dissonance. none? of? us? can? help? it? ‘be violent when ur attacked or you’ll die and can’t progress the story but we are gonna punish and villainise and demonise you for it in part 2’ ‘kill hundreds of people and dogs, torture people, but did you know violence is bad actually??’. ABSURD. and in that hospital joel was NOT the aggressor. honestly the whole thing would have worked better if abby’s revenge had been for pointless violence. but from the point we know him joel is never violent until they are attacked first. that’s inarguable fact. even tommy in part 2 tells ellie joel wouldn’t have gone to seattle for revenge if it had been one of them! it’s been a long time since he did terrible things and im not saying that makes it ok (except he’s hot and not real so idc) BUT that aside the point is, he doesn’t go looking for it, and it’s never pointless anymore. but he’s the Big Bad Evil who deserves to die like a dog and we know you all love joel but we’re gonna make you hear it and watch it and also in the whole game we are gonna make him the punching bag we are not even going to ONCE let him open his mouth and explain what really happened in that hospital and why he saved ellie (yeah he’s so terrible for not letting a suicidal 14yr old kill herself)! which rlly brings us back round to the dissonance cus they’ve ALL done shitty stuff to survive including abby but she’s gonna be the one to ‘stop horrible evil villain joel in his tracks’ when he’s been living quietly in jackson for 5 years and she’s gonna get her revenge and then after get a happy hopeful ending all to show us violence and revenge is bad which a) falls flat bcus what? revenge makes you lose everything and end up alone except not for abby! and b) she’s objectively just as awful if not more so than joel but she’s the one who has to stop him and gets a nice redemption arc with a hopeful happy ending and joel has to die! abby:

shows great pleasure in slowly torturing joel and then killing him brutally

does the above in front of his screaming kid who’s being held down and forced to watch even though just finding her dad’s body is traumatising for her

is in an authoritarian militia who is intent on wiping out anyone else out in seattle lol?

kills people for that militia including kids

after torturing joel and killing him is so deeply unaffected by it she laments the fact she hasn’t got time to torture some seraphites who are chained up in cells

kills jessie when he’s unarmed cus she rlly learnt violence and revenge was so awful and took everything from you. wait, no, only ellie had to learn that lesson and end up alone. she also shoots and injured tommy!

once again shows sadistic pleasure in the idea of killing when she’s about to slit dina’s throat. this pleasure is bcus she’s pregnant so again yeah she rlly was so affected by her violence and revenge lmao.

never shows any great remorse beyond a throwaway line, meanwhile ellie loses absolutely everything including her fingers and joel, peacefully minding his business in jackson is the villain who deserves to brutally die and even after he’s dead he’s further villanised by the narrative lol even tho he was right to kill jerry fuck that man!

it’s just completely nonsensical! not only are they moralising to us in a world that doesn’t suit it, but they can’t even do it well!

it’s also just relentless misery and torture porn. kill all these ppl kill these dogs watch joel die horribly beat ellie up as the person who killed him even though you love her and are attached to her (really struggle to understand where im meant to find empathy for abby during this, esp after jessie and then the whole dina bit) watch ellie lose her family lose her fingers and end up alone which was her greatest fear. don’t even get me started on the section that posits ellie as a david figure down to gameplay mechanics and the theatre set up which is beyond vile when he tormented her when she was a fucking kid and the voice actor has talked about how he was going to r*** her. it’s vile enough that they took the first lesbian protagonist of an AAA game and tortured her for 25 hours straight and turned her into the villain but to also position her as her own fucking predator is straight up horrific. cus that’s not a stereotype in the lgbt community… as an aside, troy saying joel is the same as david is the stupidest thing ive ever heard and he should shut up forever.

on top of all that the game is homophobic, transphobic and racist. neil got the idea when he fantasised about killing palestinians in revenge… yikes. you can even see how the conflict between the wlf and the seraphites mirrors what’s going on in palestine. it’s actually a plot that’s very similar to an early iteration of tlou1 that was stopped cus... it didn’t make sense for anyone in that world to travel when it’s so dangerous just to get revenge ajsjsjs come back bruce! (ppl like to forget he was integral to part 1)

this game doesn’t respect the characters, it doesn’t respect the world, and it sure as heck doesn’t respect us. it takes the ambiguity from the end of part 1 which made it SO great and rips it to shreds. instead of being allowed to make our own minds up they ram down our throats that joel was completely wrong in the way they punish him through the narrative and ellie (the ellie part just makes it worse :/). goodbye nuance goodbye grey area. the reaction to it from gamers who hail it as a narrative masterpiece and love abby whilst arguing joel is a villain who deserved to die show what propaganda was invented for actually! and then ppl have the audacity to say if you don’t like the game you’re a homophobic woman hater with no depth or nuance ITS LAUGHABLE.

i found the experience of playing the game so genuinely traumatic it was that full of torture porn but the good news is the further out i get from playing the game the better it gets. i haven’t cried for days and days about it which is a record!! and at that point it gets so much easier to disengage from part 2 and just enjoy the actual masterpiece part 1 was.

#SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY ON UR ASK #it’s just tiresome to keep being told there aren’t any valid criticisms of this game… so here they all are ajsjjsd #the feelings of rage and upset get better tho #like ill still complain cus im an autistic goblin but im feeling much better now #the last of us spoilers #tlou2 #anti tlou2 #tlou

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i-dont-know-how-this-site-works · 1 year

Text

3/?

So, per post nr. 2, let's talk about the dorito-shaped squad member (I am hungry).

HUNTER

Now, I will admit that the idea for this series of posts came from the fact that I felt like we didn't get enough Hunter&Tech moments. Tech had so much development during this season and they really fleshed out his relationships, but almost any time they spoke with each other it was about the matters at hand, like the battle, or the plan, or something else entirely. Outside of dialogue, we also didn't get them bonding in any other way. Despite their differences, Echo and Hunter shared so many quiet moments, tired glances, they spoke to each other a lot about actual important stuff, but there was almost nothing with Tech in that regard.

For this one, it was mostly just them sort of looking at each other and the only time they spoke about something deeper was in ep.9, where Hunter had to explain to Tech the intricacies of preteen angst. Also, I loved this interaction in ep.8 when Tech launches the escape pod with the group + Rex in it and lands pretty far without any boosters and Hunter compliments him ("Not bad.").

And now, let me put on those rabid Hunter attorney glasses and say: This man is fucking clearly grieving.

I know he got some flack for dismissing Crosshair's message (which like, if you don't know how POV in fiction works, you need some theory of mind lessons) and somehow he is getting flack for not reacting as emotionally as people would have wanted.

But he is their leader. Not only in the military sense of the word, but he is also the head of their little family. They look to him for guidance, for direction, for orders, and while they are free to do what they want now that that military structure is gone, their dynamic carried over to their non-military relationship either way.

He feels responsible for them. Which is why he wanted to hide and was not enthusiastic about this mission or even wanted to consider that Cross really turned against the empire, because that's such a huge risk. This man has an actual child under his care and going to a highly secure location with top imperial officers to maybe get a shot at freeing their brother who tried to kill them multiple times? Hunter knew it was a bad idea, but he greenlit the mission anyway.

And you know what? Hunter was right.

Literally all of his fears came true in a span of 24 hours and his cautiousness and withdrawal were not unwarranted.

His brother is dead. His daughter was taken by the Empire. His other brother and he himself was badly injured. And worse of all, it was for nothing, since they didn't get any information on where Crosshair is being held.

But, he is the leader. He needs to call the shots, even in the face of the greatest failure he ever experienced, life does not stop and he needs to steer the ship. He can't allow himself to fall apart, because other people depend on him too.

(well, this one turned into an essay with me defending Hunter, the next one will be better, I promise lol)

#the bad bad spoilers #the bad batch #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #you've just witnessed the birth of a hunter apologist

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melodygatesauthor · 8 months

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Hi again bb, hope it's okay to send more than one ask in for your celebration. It's not on the list (so feel free to ignore this if you want) but I was just wondering how the writing for your original novel is going? What does your writing process look like? Is it the same as when you write fic or is it different? Just curious, thought maybe since it was writing related it might be something you could talk about lol. If not, that's okay, no worries 🥰 love youuuu 💖

Yes it's more than okay of course!

It's like you know me, and know how much I love having a stage to talk about my writing on hahahaha. I'll answer below the cut...

So the first part of the question, "how's it going", it's going okay. I've started it. I have the first few pages done but I started writing it before I had decided to make it an original fiction so I need to go back, change some names and whatnot.

I also keep coming up with new ideas for it all the time which is both great, and frustrating because in order to set up some major plot points, I need to start building the suspense from book one and it means rearranging thoughts and rewriting scenes and making sure there's continuity throughout.

----

My personal writing process is similar for both novel-length fanfictions, and my original fiction novel I'm working on. I always have 2 docs in google docs for the novel. One doc is the novel itself, and the other doc is where I take notes. I'll also break this up into sections.

Character Names/Locations - I'll also include a tidbit about who the character is, relation to the main character/reader, if it's a place I'll put what that place is/its importance to the story, e.t.c. - I'll also put like birth dates or ages for characters in this place too.

Timeline - This is for fics that are spanning over a significant amount of time, or fics that I want to ensure last a while. Sometimes I have a tendency to want to rush getting the reader or m/c together too quickly, this helps me pace it. Plus if I go back to reference WHEN something happened, this is a good place to do it. - Further, it's where I keep track of WHERE a character is during a given time period. That way when a character says, "don't you remember what you told me three weeks ago when we were on Jakku?" I can confirm easily that they were indeed on Jakku three weeks ago without having to scour through the fic for hours trying to confirm this. I would consider it a "living timeline", meaning, I work on it as I write the story, not the other way around.

Outline - My outlines are often loose ideas of what I intend to do in a fic. As I've been working on the novel, I'm spending A LOT more time working on this part. I try not to get myself bogged down with this piece of the process, because if I do, I won't actually write the book. That being said, having a basic idea of where your book is going and how many chapters/words it might have is very important (in my opinion). So for Lock & Key, I have 3.5k words in notes I've taken. I'm sorting through them, deciding what's happening when, and creating an outline based on that.

I hope that all makes sense, there's a lot there, but if I don't do all of that then my novels would be all over the place with no rhyme or reason as to what's going on or when. I did it with A Bit Dodgy, Yes Master, One Hell of a Pilot, By Your Side, Just You, and The Recruit and the Hunter, and I'll do it with this one too lol.

Melody's 2k Celebration Masterlist

#melody answers #novel writing tips #writing advice #writing tips

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fandomfluffandfuck · 10 months

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S!!! kinky subby anon here. I gotta tell you about my latest experience cause hot damn.

so, I've been overstimulated before by being fucked (penetrated, toyed ect) a lot in the span of certain time but with hands and I really wanted to do it with a machine because previously I had use a doxy wand and I just could never keep it after I had reached my orgasm. it was too much but I really wanted to try it so last night we set the camera, we invited two of our friends and!!!, we got a Sybian, no we didn't buy it, they're expensive but we got one for a little bit. In our house we already have the structure for me to be tied to the ceiling so somehow we put the Sybian in a table and I sat on it (we tried in the bed but to be honest, it didn't feel good because you're not putting your whole body weight in it and I reeeeally wanted to feel it. so I sat on it, my hand tied above my head, tits clamped, collar on, spider gag on and I was ready to go. by the way! it turns on the Sybian has a lot of different shapes you can ride, we chose two: the double penetration and the biggest dildo one, I first rode the double one, it was good but it wasn't so big so we changed to the biggest dildo in less than 10 minutes I think, I'm just so used to be full now, so anyway we changed and holy shit. I can tell you I don't remember much of that,I do remember reaching my second orgasm and I was drooling and shaking. I did tell my boyfriend to not get me out of there even if I was screaming, I really really wanted to experience that over stimulation but I knew I wouldn't like it at the beginning because as i said, I've tried before. so I'm there riding the thing and our make friend goes behind me, outs hid fingers in my mouth while his girlfriend was sucking on my tits and then he pushes my legs down to get my clit even closer (was that even possible?? apparently yes) to the thing, holy shit S.... everybody should try that thing at least once, it was wonderful. as I said I remember perfectly reaching my second orgasm and I remember I was screaming, I was screaming so loud that my baby decided to change the spider gag to a penis shaped one so nobody would think I was being murdered (lol).after that everything got fuzzy but watching the video was surely an experience, I ended up masturbating at seeing myself drooling and with my eyes rolled in the back of my head, no I wasn't unconscious cause I'd open my eyes and so but my eyes were a mess. I think I saw myself cumming another 3 times or that's what it appeared to be. our friends and my boyfriend kept on touching me and that was actually cute to see. everything ended up so wet, like if I had taken a shower right there. when my boyfriend decided it was over and he pulled me out of that I was just a mess, I remember opening my eyes and I couldn't even get my fingers to even brush my vagina at all. everything was swollen and red-ish but my clitoris specially hated me (which is okay cause I loved it). I couldn't even take a bath for the upcoming 3-4 hours because I couldn't touch it. in conclusion it was amazing, it was more than I expected and to that one anon who had sent you an ask about Seb riding a Sybian? yeah... he should! and everyone should to be honest 🙈

I can't find that ask right now, ugggh, I wanted to link it lol

Hey, sweetheart!

Immediately I have to say OH MY GOD, that sounds like a hell of a fucking time. A good fucking time.

I feel like I say it every time, but I'm just speaking the truth, lmao--you're out there living the fucking 🤌🏻dream.🤌🏻 The kinkiest, best dream.

The sybian. The big dildo. The gags. The camera. The multiple people. The overstimulation. The drooling. The haze of it all.

All 👏🏻 of 👏🏻 it 👏🏻

Good for you! I am fucking cheering you on from the sidelines; I love reading the play-by-play.

Also, yeah, your poor neighbors--they most definely thought someone was getting fucking murdered, lol. Although, is it really that good of a time if you don't get a noise complaint, don't make your neighbors bang on the door/wall because you've pissed them off, or something of the sort? 👀

That, 10000%, sounds amazing. I'm thrilled for you, I'm thrilled that you had such a good time! And yeah, your first-hand experience certainly vouched for everyone to try it (including and especially Sebastian. Wanna see that pretty face all fucked out and hear all the pretty little hoarse whimpers he makes when he's screamed himself raw 😮‍💨😮‍💨)

Thank you as always for being willing to share!

#asks #subby kinky anon #tmi

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blondiest · 6 months

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good luck for the wip meme :3

hehehe thank you for the ask!! this one is matthalle in. to no one's fucking surprise. the universe of it's you and me, that's my whole world. because idk when ill finish this one im just gonna post most of what i have lol

Matt knows she's lucky to be alive.

She felt the blood seeping from her body, pooling on the pavement beneath her, felt the tight pain bloom in her chest whenever she tried to breathe, felt herself slipping from consciousness and thought— so this is it.

The doctors and nurses keep reminding her how lucky she is. She doesn't begrudge them that— they've taken good fucking care of her they've and been terribly patient with her piss-poor Japanese, her mediocre skills worsened by fatigue and all the drugs they have her on. Some of those drugs she's pretty sure they're not supposed to have— she wasn't allowed to bring Adderall into the country, so she'd be surprised if oxy was considered totally kosher— but she doesn't mention it. She appreciates not being in immense amounts of pain, and besides, her last comment on the laws here was met with a shower of bullets.

Come on, since when were the Japanese allowed to carry such big guns?

It's Matt's suspicion that she has Near's team to thank for her reduced suffering, and for the fact that she hasn't been dragged off to jail. Another thing she's fucking lucky for— luck, luck, more luck. Except after a few days of sitting alone in a cold, weird-smelling room, discomfort and isolation start to wear on her. Even the good shit only goes so far when it comes to managing pain, and she's got a good five gunshot wounds and a collapsed lung, and she's alone all day except when she has to shower, which is the one time she *wants* to be alone, and fuck, it gets harder and harder to stay grateful and not grouchy.

During the five days she spends in the hospital, Matt's irritability builds to something of a fever pitch. She gets exactly one visitor on day three, and it isn't even Mello or Near; it's one of Near's agents, a beefy blonde man who comes bearing a care package and gives his name as Rester. She jokingly asks if she can bum a cig, and he stiffly tells her he doesn't think smoking with a collapsed lung is wise. All further efforts at sparkling banter are promptly abandoned.

By the time she's finally deemed stable enough to discharge, Matt is itching to leave. The doctors take out her IV, give her instructions on how to proceed with her recovery, stick her in a wheelchair and tell her to wait. Her ride is meant to arrive soon, she's told.

So Matt waits. She waits ten, twenty, forty minutes, getting more and more pissed-off as the time ticks by. When the door to her room finally opens after almost an hour of waiting, she's full-on glowering, but the expression is instantaneously wiped out when she sees the woman in the doorway.

“You’re not the guy from before,” Matt blurts.

The woman smiles thinly, stepping forward and stooping slightly to offer her hand to Matt, who thankfully has the presence of mind to shake said hand instead of pressing her lips to the woman's knuckles like a fucking weirdo.

“Halle,” she says. “Forgive me for being late. Traffic was a mess.”

Matt had frankly already forgiven her the moment she walked through the door, and would forgive her in the span of a few seconds even if Halle reared back and kicked her in the stomach right now.

“Don't worry about it,” Matt manages. “I’m Matt.”

#matthalle #hallematt #my writing #asks

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logicheartsoul · 1 year

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the room (where you live in)

Summary: Inspired by the just-shower-thoughts post: "Every building can be a museum if you keep it the same long enough."

In which Bucky finds out the Smithsonian has added to its exhibit a recreation of one of the places Bucky lived in before becoming a soldier. A somewhat character study with some subtly hinted sambucky.

Author's Notes:Saw this post and then, I had this thought — we see SOME of the museum exhibit of Captain America but not all of it and I thought if Steve and the Howlies were so important, what if people took pictures of the rooms/houses they lived in before they “died” and did that museum thing where they recreate the room so people can look in or step inside? We kinda get a glimpse of that at the end of TFA to acclimate Steve to 2010 but what if they did that to a room Bucky lived in? And Bucky seeing it for himself? That's this fic lol

Kind of surprised I finished and wrote this in an hour considering how random it was but I hope you enjoy it! It’s a miracle I wrote another completed fic within the span of a week after 2 years.

(One of these days I'll actually finish the Sam character study I wrote but it's a bajillion words longer than this one)

—————————

This is a tribute to the dead; the ghost of their life. Lingering in the shadows, in the dust.

A mausoleum.

Like trampling over the living grave of who he used to be.

This is not his home; this is not his life, at least the life he occupies now. This has not been his life in decades.

This facsimile of his home, his room — one of many rooms he left himself behind — is a pale imitation. It brings memories of the remaining impressions, not of his own reality.

The curve of the bed frame, the thin fabric of the window drapes — these are the same but not his. The hidden history behind all of the details, of the walls, the furniture, even the common household items — it doesn’t exist. Not with these things.

It is all imitation, a living simulation. An exhibit, except he’s not caged in.

(Not anymore.)

But perhaps for all that it is, the details based on the real, like the photos in the frames, the bed linens and the wallpaper and the curtains—

It is the closest thing he can get to touching his past. To the thing that ties him to those memories. The closest he can get to touching those that are gone.

Gone.

His past self is gone, nearly erased: by time, by war, by trauma and torture.

He cannot visit his old home anymore.

He cannot visit the places that were his.

He cannot visit the people who are now long gone. From time, death, disease. Can only touch those they left behind, their remnants: children, grandchildren, cousins, nieces and nephews and niblings.

Their traces of his mother, his father, his sister — live on in their eyes, their smiles, their laughter. The color of their hair, the curve of their chin, the height of their bodies.

And the ache lessens.

It doesn’t go away.

But his life here, this snapshot taken in time:

It’s a memory, not his own but another. Of an observer looking into the glimpse of his former world.

He cannot step back into it as if he’d merely paused.

Time does not stand still, even for those who can defy it.

He was made to stand time, but it went on around him.

And he understands and gets it, truly, standing at this exhibit of his life. People want to know a glimpse of the truth, want context for his life, for Steve’s and the Howling Commandos. Want people to know where he came from, from how heroic people can rise from any circumstance.

Especially with a symbol as powerful as Steve Rogers.

It’s still disquieting.

It’s like he’s the ghost and he’s haunting himself.

This—this life, it’s only a part of who he is, but it’s not him. Not now.

Missing pieces of the puzzle that comprise his whole, messy life.

Doesn’t show the spaces he’s made now, in a far different environment. The spaces made in a new community, in a new home. The room where he lives in now.

One tidy but filled with a life before him and hopefully a life after him. Of furniture sturdy and handmade with a dark, lacquered finish. With pictures of a family that originally wasn’t his but is now. With fuzzy blankets for the cold nights, with quilted bed covers. Decor of a university he never went to but the other occupant did.

And the difference true in his new room—

It is not originally his room.

But it’s a room he shares, one he lives with its first occupant.

Where their clothes line the closet and the dresser together. Where they swap and share shirts and jackets and other clothes. Tight pants and loose jeans and different types of shoes: boots and tennis shoes and flip flops.

But this room, it’s not a museum. It’s not an exhibit.

It’s part of a home.

A home, where many of its pieces and rooms have remained virtually the same. If it is a museum, it is a museum for the testament of a home, of family, of belonging and feeling. Happiness and lows lie among the walls but it’s a place for living.

For the living.

The memories here…

Here, he can touch them and know its history, know its touch is true. The faded, bleached color of the paper behind one of the framed posters in one of the living spaces. The messy scrawl and coloring of a child’s love for their mother. Post it notes for mundane reminders and drawings made of planes, the paper thin and wrinkled, taped on.

And more, much more.

This, this is his place now. His reality, his truth.

Here he is not walking among the dead, he is among the living. The ancestors that remain, do so with loving care, protecting, blessing. They live vivaciously, vibrant. Their remnants are honored and passed on to new descendants and occupants.

And he is fortunate, blessed, to be in such a space. To be invited in, to live in it, to allow it to make a home for him. For him to add to this rich space that existed before him and perhaps will after he is long gone.

It’s a legacy.

A legacy that doesn’t start with him and doesn’t end with him, but one he hopes to protect and help guide on.

In the room where he lives, he is not alone, not like he has been forced to for so long.

No, not alone.

And as he looks down on the other, in the low, morning light, he knows this is where he is meant to be.

Meant to be holding him close, meant to watch over him, the sun’s early rays softening the angles of his face: the slope of his nose, his cheek, the curve of his jaw. Imbuing his dark skin with a glow.

Meant to be loving him with all his heart.

If he is to be remembered, if he is to have another exhibit based on his life, of a room he has lived in—

He wants the world to know of him.

Of the man in his arms. Of his childhood home the man and his sister have allowed him to stay. Of the quilted bed cover they’re under, of the pictures in frames that contain the man’s face, young and older, of family and friends smiling and happy. Of the watch he wears on his wrist when he goes out. The color of the walls.

His memory, how important he is.

And he is important on his own, on his own rights and merits, but he’s important to him. Important to who he is now.

To his heart, his soul, his life. There is no part of him that hasn’t been changed, touched, transformed without the other.

Perhaps, when time has taken them both, if this room becomes a museum of their life, of their love, of the transmutation of their better selves—

That is a legacy worth leaving behind.

—————————

If you like my writing, feel free to check out my writing tag!

#bucky barnes #sambucky #MCU #my writing #not the fic I intentionally wanted to write but it happened randomly #I dunno if this means my writing groove is back #taking that one day at a time #however I hope this is an enjoyable read

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theresattrpgforthat · 1 year

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Do you know of any creepypasta and/or internet urban legend themed ttrpgs? Not (just) horror, but specifically creepypasta with all the kind of silly stuff that includes like… themes and vibes of common ones that might even make the game silly depending on how you play it? Whether u play as Jeff the killer or have to fight him I’d love to see it lol

THEME: Internet Legends

What I looked for when I tracked down these recs were either a) things that referenced creepy pastas in their description, or b) games that directly connected to internet culture. Have fun with these ones!

Watching Us, by Justinquirit.

Tonight, we are alone together with the Watcher. None of us knows who or what he is, but he has been haunting each of us with his silent gaze. Although he has never approached us, we have imagined what he might do if he did.

Perhaps, if we stick together, we may escape this nightmare.

Watching Us is a game for 2-6 players and takes about an hour to play. Draw cards and answer their prompts, then invoke the Watcher's image. Together, slowly uncover the face of the entity that has been haunting all of you.

This looks like an excellent way to slowly build up the terror of something that’s been following you for a long time. It’s built on For The Queen, which is a game that relies on a story that’s built slowly over time by answering questions. This game was also made for the Fucked-Up Guy Game Jam, which has a number of other ttrpg items that may fit into the creepy-pasta mold about eerie human-like entities that won’t leave you alone.

Chase the H0ll0w, by Brandon Leon-Gambetta.

A game of fear and isolation for 3 to 5 players who would go into a bunker in the woods to follow something horrifying.

Chase the H0ll0w is a secret identity roleplaying game that tells a story similar to creepypasta fiction over the span of about two hours. It is intended for 3 to 5 players with one of those players taking on the role of game facilitator.

Players portray a group of internet sleuths exploring an abandoned or hidden place that is haunted by something terrifying and strange. They will be attempting to learn enough about it to solve how to get it to stop chasing them and (hopefully) to get their friend back who was already taken.

This is a game in which each player is going to take on a secret role that will also likely determine their objectives throughout the course of play. If you want a game that will challenge you to out-last your friends, this might be worth checking out.

Contact from Unknown, by Speak the Sky.

..the graveyard shift 24-hour store clerk has too many teeth (pale like the moon, which is losing its shine)

...the airport never gets any night flights but there's always arrivals (in the moon-shaped terminal)

...the public-access astronomy TV show that starts at 3:33am and plays backwards (with a weird fixation with 'lunar songs')

Why doesn't anyone see this? Nobody seems to care. So, you turned to the best store of esoteric knowledge you could find - pseudonymous night owl weirdos in online chatrooms for paranormal investigators. Luckily, you matched with someone else in town, but it sounds like you might have different ideas about what's causing these things to happen. Still, someone is better than no-one. Now you just need to swap your knowledge, share your insight, and see if you can find the truth that's out there.

Before it finds you.

Contact from Unknown is a 2-player role-playing investigation game of dark lunar mysteries, esoteric chatroom weirdos, and gut-feeling horror that's designed for play via online messaging apps!

Each of you plays a paranormal investigator who's realised there's something terribly wrong with the moon, and the only other person in town who also knows is a fellow night owl in an internet chatroom... unless they're actually in on the mystery too. It's up to you to find out the truth and live to tell the tale. How do all the local urban legends and assorted weirdness in town figure into the mystery? Is the force behind everything merely alien or truly malevolent? Play to find out!

This is a great two-player game for making up and tracking down urban legends, especially if you don’t necessarily want a horror element. The two of you will put together clues together while on an internet chat-room, as you figure out whether the street sign parasites are connected to the new kid who everyone already knows, or whether both are just signs of something bigger… and weirder. This is also perfect for play between two people who can’t share the same physical space.

#dnd #game recommendations #tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #urban legends #internet horror #creepypasta #asks

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