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#happy fucking gay day everybody
moongreenlight · 7 months
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“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.
Mdni. Nsfw below cut.
- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.
He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.
I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.
- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.
Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’
Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.
That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.
- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.
But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.
- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.
Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.
- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.
Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.
- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.
Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]
MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.
His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.
- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.
It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.
“Didn’t think you’d call.”
“Didn’t think I would either.”
He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.
- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.
So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.
Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.
Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.
- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.
Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.
- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.
He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)
He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.
Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.
LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.
- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.
GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.
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love-belle · 10 months
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i'd like to hang out with you for my whole life !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which he loves her but so does everyone else. a bit too much.
or
for when everybody wanna steal your girl. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - been on my writing grind lately!!! another lando social media au will be posted in a few minutes i swear im working on it <3 i hope you like this, thank you so much for reading!!! i love you <3
≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱
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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc and 989,924 others
yourusername i'd like to hang out with u my whole life
tagged charles_leclerc
12,528 comments
username GOODNIGHT.
username NOT STAY STAY STAY I AM NOT STRONG ENOUGH
username oh.
username how the FUCK am i supposed to move on from THIS.
lewishamilton blessings and love 🤍
*liked by yourusername*
username they're so in love im SICK
username i am SO happy for u and ur ugly fucking boyfriend i MEAN it
username i want this oh my god
username they're so parents im in love with them ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
carmenmmundt so cute!! 💗
*liked by yourusername*
username he's so boyfriend coded like
username their love is so pure like 🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤
username i know we highk bully charles about "stealing" y/n but their relationship is so ‼️‼️‼️
landonorris cute ig 🙄🙄🙄
-> yourusername thank u i know that must've made u throw up
username OH MY GOD
username he looks so 😭😭😭😭😭
username god when will it be me
charles_leclerc i don't think i mind that for even one second
-> yourusername i love you <3
-> username OG NY UKF I EILL SCREAMC
username this is me logging off for the day goodbye.
username so close to microwaving a spoon
username PARENTS ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, lilymhe and 998,136 others
charles_leclerc i'll never finish falling in love with you
tagged yourusername
13,628 comments
username THE CAPTION
username im deceased actually
username SHE'S SO
username MOTHER
username charles i seriously need u to square the fuck up
lilymhe the prettiest 💌
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username she's so girlfriend
username *OUR girlfriend
username i will never move on from these pictures 💔💔💔
username *WE'LL
carlossainz55 she just giggled just thought you should know
-> yourusername i will never teehee for a man no matter how big his titties are thank u
-> charles_leclerc it's okay cherié ❤️ you can giggle
-> yourusername i did not GIGGLE
username she's so lana del ray coded like it's INSANE
username lolololol i just fell in love
username my bi awakening ❤️❤️❤️
-> username ur so real for that
username charles is so down bad and i, for one, cannot blame him
username man saw people on twitter talking shit and decided to tell everyone who's ACTUALLY her boyfriend
username she's so AHHHSHSJSJDBXNSJS
username i am in love like no 🧢
pierregasly we know u tell us that everyday
-> charles_leclerc and i will continue to do so ❤️
username im so gay like WOAH
username she's so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
yourusername u own my entire heart like what. u dumbass i love u SO much like actually im so ❤️❤️❤️ for u
-> charles_leclerc i'm so ❤️❤️❤️ for you too mon amour
username "im so ❤️❤️❤️ for u" CAN U HEAR ME SCREAMING
username they're so in love like i throw up a little
username they really be setting the standards pretty high huh
username if my future relationship isn't like this then i don't want it.
username im a simple girl i just want someone to love me the way charles loves y/n
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fryingpan1234567 · 10 months
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some CHB headcanons
every cabin has LEDs around the inside, but there’s a constant battle over what color they are
Percy has his rippling back and forth from teal to blue and it looks like light dancing through water all over his walls and floor
the Apollo cabin can usually settle for orange and yellow as a common ground
the Aphrodite kids have a different color for each time of day and sleep with pink on the lowest brightness setting
the Hermes cabin has like ten different strips and they’re all constantly shifting
Demeter cabin’s shifts with the seasons
ANYWAYS MOVING AWAY FROM THE LEDS
they have movie nights, which I will talk about in a different post
before everybody goes back to school, the Aphrodite and Hecate cabins have a massive salon at the end of the summer with new haircuts and magic hair dye and outfit recommendations and fake but enchanted sturdy nails and a whole bunch of other stuff and basically it’s a week straight of spilling hot tea between everyone in camp
if someone asks where a camper got their hair done when they get back to school they just go “oh, um… summer camp.” and their friends will snort and be like bro isn’t summer camp the opposite of a makeover?? but they get no argument, just a shrug and a half smile
when I tell you pride month over there is a fucking riot
because Mr. D is in on it, right?? because he’s the god of gender?? and Chiron is aroace and has been raising dumbass gay heroes for literal centuries?? PLUS the sheer fucking amount of queer peeps up in there?? dude yeah
cabins competing for who shows the most pride
Demeter’s roof is covered in rainbow flowers
Hecate’s is enchanted to emit actual light in whatever flag colors of whoever uses the front door, even when they’re straight (it’s just a rainbow)
Percy collects a bunch of shed scales from the hippocampi at the bottom of the lake and then puts them all over his cabin
I could make a whole post about CHB pride but
every single Apollo kid is also a theater kid fight me
Rachel Elizabeth Dare painted a skateboard for Percy’s birthday and he brings it everywhere now, it even sits in his backpack at school
Leo, Annabeth, Percy, and Piper fucking love horror movies. Frank, Hazel, and Jason fucking hate them. They watch through their fingers, if at all
Piper loves the band Surfaces with all her heart, but she also is a die hard Green Day and P!ATD fan
Jake Mason is covered in burn scars up to his neck, just like Deadpool, just not bald lol
Hephaestus and Apollo kids faintly radiate warmth (like more so than a normal person)
the Stolls sometimes stay at camp year-round because their mom is off on international missions that are too high-risk for them to help with
the seven are AVID Smash Bros players
really everyone but
not as many people go to the Athena campers for help with homework as you might think, but whenever anyone does, they’re happy to help
the sun chariot blasts music at a frequency only the Apollo kids can hear, so their life kind of has a shitty soundtrack that consists of a mix of Broadway, Queen, modern stuff, and random bits of Beethoven every now and then
the Romans swear on few occasions
the Greeks know when to swear and when to be polite
the Valhalla peeps swear unbridled and all the time
the Egyptians never swear (in English)
for the longest time, Will Solace thinks the only gift from his dad is his healing prowess— which is obviously great, but he expresses being upset over the fact that he’s not very good at archery
well, considering this is the dumbass who didn’t bring a weapon to actual fucking Tartarus, Nico drags him to the weapon shack thing immediately afterwards and made him pick something out
he's immediately drawn to the Celestial Bronze shotgun.
Nico’s just like “what in the redneck shit did you just pick up” and Will jokingly aims it at his chest and grins and says “you know I’m from Texas, right?”
that’s how they find out Will is one of the damn best marksmen in Greek demigod history
some of the Disney nerds in the Apollo cabin sing What Once Was Mine to the little ones who need bandaids for knee scrapes and give them lollipops afterwards
Percy Jackson absolutely used to make poverty and struggle meal jokes all the time, but he got weird and concerned looks for it at CHB, so he kind of just stopped. But one day, aboard the Argo II, the PERFECT opportunity came up and he just HAD TO and as per usual— everyone else looked at him like he’s crazy— but Leo laughed so hard chocolate milk came out of his nose and that’s the story of how the two of them became Best Friends
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springwitch26 · 13 days
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your writing is so fucking hot and perfect! pls can I request a fic where mel ends up getting possessive and jealous after seeing someone hitting on her girlfriend (reader) at abbott and when they get home, melissa makes sure that her girl knows that belongs to her and nobody else.
(featuring a lot of rough sex and some cute aftercare cuz we all love jealous schemmenti. 🤭)
a dangerous emotion (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)
summary: when the new substitute teacher hits on you in front of melissa, you face the dirty consequences of her jealousy.
warnings: smut (18+), jealous sex, aggressive male flirting, mel threatens violence (it's melissa), squirting, like one mention of marking
notes: the sleepy witch is back. hope you like this one anon, sorry if i left it in the oven too long. also sorry for any other deficiencies tbh writing is a struggle rn. bonus points to whoever can spot the gay joke 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 friendly fire.
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if looks could kill, this fucking guy would be a pile of ash by now.
the teachers' lounge was uncharacteristically quiet. the tv had been muted; nobody cared to watch the morning news. all eyes flickered between you and the new male teacher on one side of the room, and your seething girlfriend on the other.
the redhead was visibly furious from the moment he walked in the door, eyes dragging down your body in your flowery sundress and matching tights.
"happy first day to me," he murmured to himself, thinking nobody would hear it. it took all of melissa's self-control and professionalism not to punch his lights out.
"spring looks good on you, sweetie," he drawled from behind you as you poured coffee from the communal pot into your favorite mug.
the hem of your dress floated up as you spun around to face him, and he licked his lips. you didn't notice it, but melissa did. her hands tightened into fists in her lap.
"thank you," you smiled warmly at the man in an attempt to be polite. he was tall and stocky, probably just a few years older than you. he seemed like the kind of guy who was used to getting whatever he wanted from women—with his handsome yet cocky grin and large arms crossed in front of his chest. "are you new here?"
"yep, and i like what i see already," he threw you a wink and you looked down at the floor. you heard melissa cracking her knuckles in the background. she only did that when she was holding back, either from pouncing on you or swinging at somebody else. "i'm jesse. i'll be teachin' math up on the second floor until ms. summers gets back from maternity leave.
"well, jesse, welcome to abbott," you said sweetly, hoping to escape this conversation and join your girlfriend on the couch. "i'm a first-grade teacher, so i won't be seeing you much. but it's nice to meet y—"
"actually, i was hoping you'd show me around," he cut you off, taking a few steps toward you. "if i get lost in this building, my preteen students will never let me live it down."
"oh, um..."
before you could finish your thought, he leaned in and whispered something in your ear. melissa saw the whole exchange, enraged at this man's audacity to even breathe in your direction. you were her girl. everybody knew that. and it was time for this guy to learn.
but when melissa stood up to confront him, you did something that made her see red: you walked out with him. the other teachers noticed her anger, of course, and tried to calm her down.
"melissa, relax," barbara said, gently pulling on her best friend's hand and guiding her to sit back down. "he's harmless."
"harmless?" melissa repeated indignantly. "barb, he was lookin' at her like he wanted to bend her over the damn table!"
"you look at her like that all the time..." gregory muttered, and melissa raised an eyebrow at him in accusation. he shrugged and averted his gaze.
"i look at her like i love her!" melissa insisted. "and she's my girlfriend. i get to look at her however i want. this jamie—"
"jesse," janine corrected.
"—can't just walk in and start undressin' her with his eyes!"
"if it helps, i can keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't do anything untoward," jacob offered. "i'm pretty much the big dog on the second floor these days. i can set him straight if it comes to that."
"you couldn't even set yourself straight," melissa fired back, and jacob gave the camera a defeated look. "what, you think i can't handle this myself?"
"well, it's just that... jealousy is a dangerous emotion on you," jacob answered tentatively.
"jealousy? what am i, some kinda teenager? i don't get jealous."
"i don't know, you seemed pretty jealous at pecsa last year when the keynote speaker gave y/n his room number," gregory pointed out.
"he was just annoying."
"you poured your math-a-rita on his white suit jacket," janine chimed in.
"the jabroni shouldn't have worn white to a bar!"
"melissa, i know you're protective of y/n, but she's a grown woman capable of making her own decisions," barbara said, placing a comforting hand over the redhead's clenched fists. "she doesn't seem to have a problem with the man. at some point, you just need to trust her judgment."
"yeah, she and i are going to have a little conversation about her judgment when she gets back."
"whose judgment?" you asked as you strode back into the break room, jesse following close behind.
when your question was met with silence and anxious looks from your friends, jesse took hold of your hand and brought it to his lips.
"thanks for the tour, cutie," he said after pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your hand.
"thank you," you replied, shifting uneasily and look over your shoulder in anticipation of melissa's reaction. she didn't keep you waiting long.
"hey, hon," melissa approached the two of you, then hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you close. "the kids'll be here in half an hour, do you wanna go prep your classroom for the science lab?"
"i did that last night," you replied, not taking the hint.
"of course you did," mel cooed and planted a kiss behind your ear. jesse quirked an eyebrow in confusion. "maybe i just want some alone time with my lovely girlfriend before i start my day. that okay with you?"
you nodded sheepishly and leaned in to her. you could feel her possessive anger in her tough grip on your waist, could see it in the subtle wild edge to her green eyes. despite being in deep trouble, you still relaxed into the warmth of her casual touch and the familiar scent of patchouli on her skin.
jesse took a step back, opening his mouth as if to say something and sighing instead. as you and melissa exited the breakroom, jesse tried one more time to get your attention.
"hey, if you need any more—"
"i think we're good, janine," melissa cut him off with a dismissive gesture.
"it's jesse," the man sighed with a frustrated look at the camera.
---
"what the hell was that, huh?" melissa had you pinned up against her classroom door before you could even process what was happening. "you're givin' free tours now?"
"n-no!" you stammered frantically, squirming with unease (and excitement) at the fiery confrontation. "not free! i only did it so he would give me the extra chairs from his classroom. you know i've been down a few since the eighth graders tried to make 'chairing' a thing, and i can't let my kids spend another day on the floor. it's not fair!"
"how many times have i told you, i can get you anything you need?"
"yeah, and where's your 'chair guy' now? at least jesse can finish the job!"
oh, you fucked up. you knew it the moment the words left your mouth. melissa eased off of you physically, but her intense glare kept you frozen in place.
"we'll talk about this when we get home. i love you; don't forget it," melissa pecked your cheek and you cocked your head, confused at her sudden tranquility. she moved to whisper in your ear. "because tonight, i'm takin' all my jealousy out on you."
---
you had the misfortune of running into jesse one more time before the day was done. he wolf-whistled from behind you as you walked briskly from your classroom to the lobby, ready to meet melissa and head home.
melissa might have broken his nose if jacob and gregory hadn't been there to hold her back. in fact, she was a split-second away from swinging when jacob took hold of her dominant wrist, shaking his head. gregory followed suit with the other.
the redhead tried to wrench her arms free and glared sternly at the young men when she couldn't. sensing her frustration, you hurried over to her. melissa's gaze softened as soon as she saw you leaning over the counter. you gave jacob and gregory an appreciative nod.
the pair let go of her arms and you took her hands in yours. "let's go home," you said.
the two of you walked out of the building as jacob and gregory approached jesse.
"she's not interested, if you're still wondering," jacob said, patting jesse's shoulder in mock sympathy.
"should be pretty obvious by now," gregory added.
"first day, and you pissed off my scariest teacher and my favorite?" ava said while strutting out of her office. "nice career move, jason," she snarked. the teachers gave her a bewildered look. "what? i pay attention!"
---
once you got home, it all happened in a blur. melissa's possessive rage had you slipping into that fuzzy, pliable headspace before she even slammed the bedroom door behind you.
you couldn't concentrate on much besides her forceful touch, fingers digging into your hips and mouth sucking bruises into your neck. her low voice cut through the static occasionally, but she seemed to be venting to herself rather than you.
"mine..." her fingernails dug into the flesh of your waist. "touchin' my girl..." she spaced out the words between nips to your neck. "gotta mark you up, let the whole world know..." she landed a hard swat on your ass, then shoved you off of her. "on the bed."
---
"remind me again what he said when you spilled coffee on your shirt," melissa growled from above you. you were spread out on her bed, naked with your legs kept apart by turquoise ropes tied to the bedposts.
"he said, 'feel free to take it off. i wouldn't complain about the view,'" you whispered back.
"and you just let that slide, hm? you entertained him knowin' all he wanted was an eyeful of your tits?"
"yes, melissa."
"i'm sorry, does someone need a reminder of who owns her? i'm happy to provide, sweet girl. tell me," she dipped a finger into your folds and stroked you lightly, "who gets you this wet?"
"you do, ah, only you," you whimpered as she caressed you.
"uh-huh," she cooed, sounding unsatisfied still. "that's right, baby. and i'm the only one who gets to see you like this."
she gripped your hips harshly before gliding her hands up to your chest. she kneaded the swollen flesh of your tits and then zeroed in on your nipples, tweaking and tugging on them.
"that fucker," melissa began, breathing heavily. "will never know how soft these are."
you shook your head in frantic agreement as she massaged you. one of her hands slipped down between your legs again.
"he'll never hear how your breath catches in your throat when your clit's touched," she whispered, beginning to rub soft circles into your bundle of nerves. "or—" she withdrew suddenly and gave your pussy a swat, "how you cry at a spanking."
her jealous attitude had you soaked and sensitive. you were already close when she brought two fingers to your entrance and pushed in.
"and if he ever even imagines the face you make when you come, that pretty little lip bite you do," melissa pumped and curled her fingers roughly, "i'll take edith houghton to'm."
her speed quickly picked up and soon she was diving into you with force, bullying your g-spot with her fingertips.
"come. now," she ordered, and you fell over the edge. you spasmed around her fingers as she drove them in and out of you. she smirked with pride as she looked down at you.
but when you got too sensitive and started to squirm away from her touch, she doubled down. she pumped her fingers faster, and dipped down to suckle on your clit. you cried out. it felt like you were on fire, but the burn was oh so delicious.
"and he'll never guess what happens when you get all sensitive..." she picked her head up momentarily to say this before sucking hard on your nub and crooking her fingers inside you.
you felt the burn rise into a hot tidal wave. a flood of warm liquid spilled out of you. melissa helped you through it before withdrawing her touch, her hands retreating to your thighs. she looked down at you fondly, smiling with only a tiny bit of smug satisfaction.
"god, i love when you do that," she mused, smiling at your dazed, pretty, happy face. "it's like a gift just for me."
a gift. happy first day to me, he had said.
now reminded, melissa was pissed again. but the venom of her jealousy had trickled away, and now all that remained was an urgent need to give you the love and care you deserved.
"but you said somethin' earlier about 'finishing the job.' and i just feel like my job isn't finished, sweetheart," she smiled and cupped your cheeks. "how's a bubble bath sound?"
"mm-hmmm," you managed, fucked out and delirious.
---
"i really wasn't jealous, ya know," melissa murmured into your ear as you snuggled into bed, her chest pressed against your back.
"i find that hard to believe. i mentioned his name and you ripped my panties," you teased.
"okay, maybe a little bit."
"30 percent?"
"20."
"25."
"fine."
"then what was the other 75 percent?"
"i guess it just pisses me off when people don't treat you right. you're a beautiful angel, not a sex doll."
"i don't want you to feel... to feel like you have to take care of me all the time."
"baby girl, you know i don't do things i don't wanna do. you're the love of my life. i wanna spend every minute treatin' you like a princess."
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mediumgayitalian · 11 days
Text
fic rec friday 10
hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!
something borrowed by @rosyredlipstick
In the Solace Wedding Planning agenda, on the fifth page into their summer schedule, there are carefully scrawled out notes reading this: Bride and Groom - Hazel Levesque & Frank Zhang Best Man & Maid of Honor - Percy Jackson & Piper McLean Wedding Court - Annabeth Chase & Jason Grace Mellie & Gleeson Hedge Reyna Ramírez-Arellano & Leo Valdez Ring-bearer - Chuck Hedge Flower-boy - Nico di Angelo - Will plans wedding and now, apparently, Nico stars in one. Except...sometimes there's a bit more confusion on that last part. AKA the AU where Will plans weddings and thinks Hazel and Frank are going to have to cutest, gap-toothed ten year throwing flowers down the aisle, all while wondering why this 'Neeks' guy is always hanging around, and what business he has looking that good.
yes i am back on my rosyredlipstick (dude she's GOOD okay). however this one is my favourite i think. this is the kinda story you could use to explain to people what dramatic irony is bc LORD i wanted to SHAKE THEM 😭😭 will falling like deeply in love with nico and being intensely stressed about everything the whole time is so real and on brand. i love him and i love the fond exasperation that just bleeds from this fic its GREAT
2. Rental Love by @rosyredlipstick
*Read Terms & Conditions - Male/22/Long Island N.Y.C. Tired of showing up stag at holiday events? Want your family to stop thinking there’s something wrong with you? Just want some arm candy for a work event? Look no further. Your solution is here! I will attend holiday events with you as your paid date. Accepting all genders as applicants. Email [email protected] if interested. Interview & application will be set up there. - Nico di Angelo has been telling Hazel Levesque about his boyfriend for weeks. The bad part? Nico doesn’t have a boyfriend, the holidays are coming up, and not all of Jason’s ideas are horrible. They’re all a bit surprised about the last one.
THE LEVEL OF STUPID THAT THEY ARE...😭😭 kills me fr. like this whole fic is just a manifestation of truly one of the best tropes of all time…..like what if we took a hallmark movie and made it gay as all hell. iconique indeed
3. A Match in the Making by @coconutcranberries-blog
“You’re a morning person,” Nico muttered, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. He ran a hand through his black hair, which stuck up in disarray, the same way it did every morning. He was a mess, and Will Solace looked annoyingly put together, and Nico didn’t even care, really, he didn’t.
friendship is the core of romance!! it is!! every time!!! and it's such a core in this fic....which is fucking??? ten years old??? im just realising?? jesus christ??? anyways. "Nico had the sudden, warm feeling that Will Solace had never bought his act." i YELLED
4. Perception by scorchedtrees
In which everyone thinks Nico and Will are together.
i love this trope i love it SO BAD. both ways. when your love is so obvious that no one misses it.....love to see it truly. and will can have one second of beingn smooth and not a dweeby loser. as a treat
5. the world is brighter than the sun now that you're here by @finalizer
It was hard, Nico eventually concluded, to maintain one’s air of spooky otherworldly detachment with a blinding ray of sunshine trailing one step behind him every minute of every day.
grouchy nico my beloved truly. honestly hes such a bitch i love him like "Seriously, give the guy a perm and a few cats and he’d be that weird aunt that everybody avoided around the holiday season." why does he ALWAYS have something vile to say 😭😭 hes a mood fr
thank you for joining me this saturday friday!! happy reading!!
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2knightt · 11 months
Note
Hii! Idk if you’ve gotten this req before, but can you do the gang with an artist s/o? Thanks:)
↳10-4, no switichin’ sides!₊˚✧
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—IN WHICH, the gang dates an artist s/o!
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Johnny Cade ;
he loves watching you draw omfg.
he thinks your process is so cool!!!
tries to draw with you, but he gives up in the end and draws stick figures instead.
“what’re you drawin—oh.”
“i gave up, okay? don’t judge, y/n.”
if you draw him i think he’ll actually explode.
“whatchu drawin’ this time?”
“you.”
“what.”
he’s legit gonna be blushing so hard.
“re-really? can i see?”
“yeah.”
if you have a sketch book and theres pages full of him he might pass out.
he will pass out.
he’s just so flattered you’d draw him out of all people!
he doesn’t get it.
but, he loves your hobby so much and if you want to do it as a job one day, he’ll support you 110%.
Dallas Winston ;
doesn’t understand why you like art.
no matter how much you explain it to him, it’s like everything goes in one ear and out the other.
“plus, the finished product is always something gorgeous.”
“…i can do that if i take a picture, y/n.”
“yeah but, you don’t get that sense of pride.”
“i get that sense of pride when i beat the tar outta a kid. that pride don’t mean nothin’ to me.”
“…okay.”
if you draw him or he catches you drawing him, he’ll tease you so bad.
like actually, good luck bru.
“ouu, someones head over heels, huh?”
“a ‘good job,’ would also be nice, dal.”
“yeah, yeah. good job, sugar.”
if anyone else teases you about it? he’s onto them. they ain’t safe.
if you tell him like, anyone said anything bad about your art, he will go to jail for the 50th time.
he’s ready to go to jail for you, do not play with dallas.
if you want to make art your job, he still won’t get it, but he’ll let you because it makes you happy.
Ponyboy Curtis ;
when he finds out you’re an artist, he’s over the moon!
he’s so happy someone else can share his hobby :)!!
if you draw him something he likes, he’d probably hang it up in his room.
“i remember you saying that tiger lilies were your favourite flower, so, i drew it for you.”
“wow, y/n! this is really good!”
if you draw him, he will tear up.
he’s just so flattered you’d waste your talent on a guy with his looks.
“look, pony. i drew you! thought you looked real pretty in that lighting.”
“y/n…you didn’t have too.”
“but i wanted too! wai-wait are you crying?!”
“i’m jus—so happy.”
if you ask him for help, he will not sugarcoat shit. so, if you aren’t ready to hear the hard truth, i wouldn’t recommend asking him for help.
he will support you fully, no matter if you want art to be your life long passion or not.
Sodapop Curtis ;
thinks you’re the best artist out there, no joke.
he thinks you’re Picasso or something.
will not stop bragging about you.
literally, it’s all he talks about.
“dude, my partner does such good paintings. they’re beautiful!”
“i know, soda. it’s all you talk about.”
“so?”
if you draw him, he will show everybody.
“oh my glory, y/n! this is amazing!! i gotta show steve!”
“wai-wait, soda! it’s not finished!”
another one that will beat the shit out of anyone that bad mouths your art.
he isn’t afraid to sock someone in the mouth.
especially since it’s for you!
soda really wouldn’t understand if you wanted to art full time but he will be your #1 fan!
Darry Curtis ;
also..doesn’t get art..but he tries!
he thinks you doing art is fine but, why?
he’ll support you 110% you just, gotta explain to him.
“and also, because i just, love seeing the outcome after weeks or months of hardwork!”
“oh, makes sense.”
if you draw him something, he’ll fold it up and put it in his wallet.
he looks at it when he has free time at work and just smiles.
if you draw him, he might MIGHT just smile, teeth n all in front of the gang.
“this is, stunning, y/n.”
“yo, what the fuck?”
“holy shit, they made darry smile.”
“dude, go tell him your gay he’s in a good mood.”
“I’M NOT GAY, STEVE FUCK OFF!”
Steve Randle ;
he is obsessed with your works, oh my lord.
he will not stop looking at them if you give him one.
“wow.”
“is, is it good?”
“it’s wonderful!”
similar to his best friend, he also doesn’t shut up about you.
literally.
“and then they painted this cat and dog, and it’s so pretty.”
“you told me this, steve.”
“did i?”
he will not hesitate to throw hands in your name.
“ew.”
“what d’ya mean, ‘ew?’”
“i mean, ew. it’s just so ug—“
knocked out, on the floor.
Two-bit Matthews ;
he is so proud of you.
‘so proud,’ is an understatement, though.
he loves any and all of your artwork.
if he finds something from when you were 5, he’d still love it.
“i love the colours in this!”
“i made that in like 1st grade, two. what?”
“oh. it’s still super good!”
“did you just compare my work to a 1st graders?”
“…i ain’t mean it like that.”
another one who is willing to go to jail for you.
he will knock out a bitch for you.
he can, and he will.
if you draw him like mickey or something, he’ll love it forever.
“here. i know you like mickey mouse, so.”
“AHHH—this is amazing, y/n!!!”
he’s fangirling.
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i-magines · 1 year
Text
Wildest Dreams: Chapter 3
Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader
CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6  | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 8 | CHAPTER 9 | CHAPTER 10
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synopsis: You’re an assistant director in an indie movie set and fate makes sure you keep crossing paths with a certain Chilean actor.  
disclaimer: This is my first Pedro Pascal’s fictional work + the first fanfic I write in English, as it isn’t my first language. Unfortunately, I do not own Pedro and this is all a product of my imagination.
rating: M (keep scrolling if your under 18 please)
warnings: age gap, mature content, fem!reader, eventual drinking and drugs, a little smut but nothing crazy (yet), a bit slow burn but not really.  
word count: 1,509
Over the first month, your friendship with Pedro only grew stronger. You were afraid once the production set was moved to the country, he was going to just disappear, as you were no longer roommates. You’d be lying to yourself if you said he didn’t make you feel anything, especially with how charming and flirting he was. You both had shared a lot of personal stuff over smoking joints and you were already used to hanging out together after a day of filming. But today things were going to be different, because the producers had organized a little happy hour for the crew.
Speaking of them, you had asked Pedro to keep your friendship on the low, at least during the job. You knew what everyone would say and think, mostly about you alone, so you were looking after yourself. He understood that and apparently didn’t care to be sneaking out like a teenager to spend some time with you.
“There you are”, Pedro happily greeted you on the corner of the happy hour room, about two hours into the event. “I almost didn’t get the chance to see you today. How’s everything going?”
At this point, you were certain the director hated you, but thank God he was the only one. Everyone else seemed to really like you and your work, which helped a lot with your anxiety.
“He spent the day trying to drive me crazy… Again”, you told Pedro. “You?”
“I would definitely rather be directed by you, if I’m being honest” he said in sympathy. “But yeah, it won’t take long for me to tell him to fuck off. Super nicely, of course.”
You both laughed. You could see he had been drinking and so did everybody in the room. Somebody turned up the music and Pedro dragged you to the improvised dance floor. You danced for about half an hour, until you saw him going to talk to Donna, one of the producers. They seemed friendly— too friendly, if somebody asked your opinion. You noticed it before, how close they acted sometimes, but at the end of the day, it was none of your business. Flo, the make-up artist that got you the job, got your attention and you walked to her.
“What’s up with that face?” She shot you the question. Flo was in her mid 40s and you got to know her in your first gig, since then she was always trying to connect you with people. You really liked her and, most importantly, trusted her. “You looked like you were about to commit murder on the dance floor. I know Dave is giving you a hard time, but honestly he is doing this to every single soul.”
“I was just wondering, is Donna taken?”, you asked as if you had no intention behind it.
“Yeah, I think so”, she told you. “Why? You gay too?”
“Someti— wait, what?” You stared at each other for a few seconds. “Is she?”
“As far as I know”, she said simply. “And by that I mean I’ve known her for about 10 years now. Sorry to disappoint you.”
“No, you didn’t. I mean, good for her, right.”
You decided you need to put your shit together now on. You excused yourself and went to get another drink — you can be a new woman tomorrow. You took some shots and got a drink to hold while you watched everyone dancing and having a good time. You tried to force yourself to stop thinking about your crush on Pedro.
“I need professional help”, you whispered to yourself.
“And why is that?”
“Shit, Pedro!” You jumped, realizing he was right by your side. “You scared the shit out of me, you shithead.”
“Wow, language, sweetheart”, he laughed at your reaction, putting his arm over your shoulder. “What are you up to?”
“Not much, just enjoying the free drinks”, you replied, also enjoying the proximity of his body. “I can see you’re enjoying them yourself.”
“Nah, I’m thinking about getting out of here, people are starting to get too drunk and God forbid I witness anything I can’t unsee”, he was being playful and seemed happy when he got a smile out of you. “Care to join me? Or you already have plans for tonight?”
“Yeah, you know me, Miss Popularity herself”, you both laughed. “Seriously, though. I’m ready whenever you are.”
“Is it okay if we leave together? Considering your privacy policy”, he whispered in your ear. Only if he knew how weak that makes you. You just nodded. “After you, mi princesa.”
Fuck you, Pedro Pascal, you thought as you made the effort to move your shaking legs. Two options: first, he had no idea of his effects on you, or second, he did know that and he just liked to torture you. However it is, you were not willing to make a move to figure it out. 
The location of the shooting was a huge farm, so you walked together through the open field, towards his cabin. You got inside and took your shoes off.
“Hey, mister ‘I’m just a common worker as everybody else’, tell me again why exactly you are the only one with a private hot tube”, you teased him. He laughed. “Is it because you’re such good friends with Donna?”.
“So that’s what it was about back in the happy hour?” Pedro looked deeply into your eyes. “Such a jealous little girl, uh?”
You looked away, embarrassed. You can’t deny your brain formulated that sentence, but the alcohol spilled it out your mouth.
“Answering your question, I’m not really friends with Donna, but her partner is one of my closest colleagues in the industry”, he said in a patient tone. “And you’re welcome to use the hot tube whenever you feel like it.”
You could feel your cheeks burning. Fuck.
“I didn’t mean to— to be honest, I don’t even know what I meant, so don’t mind drunk Y/N”, you breathed out strongly.
“Why don’t we forget about it and instead go chill in the hot tube?” He offered you a smile. Pedro was so easy to deal with, always trying to make you comfortable. “I have more of that nice whisky you like.”
You quickly put on your bikini in your room and head back to Pedro’s cabin. You could hear the happy hour turning into a party on the back, as you joined him inside the tub. You did your best to not stare at his toned, tanned body. He was smoking a cigar and handed you a glass.
“You know what’s funny”, he started, you already knew you wouldn’t find it funny at all. “This is the second time I see you in a tub.”
“Well, fuck you very much sir”, you held a serious face before letting a smile scape. “That was traumatic.”
“Why is that? I would say you made quite an impression”, he laughed, something different sparkling in his eyes. “Would it bother you if I said I still think about it?”
You felt your body hot, as if the water was on boiling point.
“God”, you whispered. He never took his eyes off yours. “I don’t know what to say, Pedro.”
“It’s a simple question, sweetheart”, he replied, coming a little closer. You got chills all over your body. “Honestly, I don’t know if you only see me as this friendly, older, disgusting man—”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” you cut him before he could finish. “Feel free to think about whatever you like.”
“Good”, he said quietly, his body even closer, but still not touching yours. “Tell me what you were doing on the tub that day, sweetheart.”
“I-I was, uh,” you felt like you were about to explode, your brain trying to process if this was really happening. “I was touching myself.”
“Finally, princesa”, he let out a deep breath against your neck. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to hear you say this, to be sure my memory wasn’t fucking with me.”
He touched your waist with his hand, putting the cigar away with the other one. You felt delirious.
“What are you going to do now that you know?” The question popped out of your mouth.
He grabbed your arm to move your body, making you sit on his lap. Face to face. He was hard as fuck.
“I will take you back to your cabin, give you a goodnight kiss…” He made a pause. His stare was deep down your soul. “Come back to mine and think ‘bout you while I mind my own business.”
He was dead serious.
“I’m too horny to go to sleep”, you cried to him, all your blood concentrated between your legs. You moved on his lap, rubbing against his cook.
“Trust me”, he said as his hands firmly held your hips down, making you stop and yet feel him ever harder. “I feel the same way.”
He gave you a little forehead kiss.
“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
CHAPTER 4 AVALIABLE NOW
TAGLIST: @kyuupidwrites @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @vivibabiez @ivyohmy @sebastianstansimp @tubble-wubble @28cnn @3zae-zae3 @technicallysassyfox @bellatrixyoass @mandolover86​ (edit: i’m not sure why i wasn’t able to tag everybody i’m trying my best here)
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weird-an · 1 year
Text
Steve is so annoyed right now. Billy has been looking for a fight, riled up ever since he got the bruise on his cheek last week and he shouts at Steve for the tiniest things. Makes a big deal out of nothing all the time. Gets loud and angry within second.
Steve is so angry, he wants to throw a real fit. He wants to break something. Most importantly he wants to fight.
Steve groans.
Fuck. That's it, isn't it? Billy wants him to get violent, he wants him to hurt him. To throw a punch, just like back in November and just like Billy's dad. It makes Steve sick. But he wants to fight back. Just not with his fists.
Steve knows Billy doesn't like it when he calls himself an idiot. But sometimes he is one, just like everybody else.
So, he goes and buys some red roses on a particularly shitty day. Which just happens to be Valentine's Day. Billy pretends not to care about flowers, but Steve has seen the careful way he touches them.
"That's gay shit," Billy always says.
For someone who hates gay shit, Billy is a lot into gay shit. But Steve tries to be patient with that. After all he never expected to like men himself.
When he gets home, Billy is already spread out on his couch. Steve has expected it by the way the doormat was crooked.
"What the fuck took you so long?" Billy’s got the wild look in his eyes he always has, when he tries to make Steve angry. When he's haunted by something (or rather someone) else and tries to run away.
"Here." Steve hands him the flowers. "Happy Valentine’s Day, asshole."
Billy is so surprised, he takes the flowers, but holds them like they are poisonous.
"What the fuck, Harrington?" He says, but moving closer towards Steve. Steve is pretty sure he tries to sniff the roses, he can see his nostrils flaring a little.
"I'm angry," Steve says. "But I love you. So I'm annoying you."
"Why would you think that annoys me?" Billy asks.
"Because you don't know what to do with them and you hate that you like them." Steve shrugs.
Billy scowls at him. But he holds the roses a bit closer to his chest.
"I know what to do with them. They belong in a vase," Billy purses his lips, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.
"Thanks," he mumbles, planting a kiss on Steve's mouth. "You know I…"
Steve smiles against Billy's lips, heart jumping at that. "I know."
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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year
Text
Breaking Up with Zoro(ANGST)
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Word Count: 1.7k
Black Fem Reader
CW: Lots of cussing, Arguing, Law is involved, Bad ending, All in All Angst
You guys actually are known for arguing in your relationship
You both argue at least once a day over something petty and everybody on the Sunny has come accustomed to it
“YOU CAN’T BRING A SWORD TO A GUN FIGHT ARE YOU INSANE?!”
“DOESNT MATTER I CAN KICK YOU AND ANY OTHER GUNSLINGERS ASS IF I NEEDED TO!”
“SHOCHU IS NOT BETTER THAN SAKE ARE YOU INSANE?!”
“UHHHH YES IT IS?!”
“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS FEEL THE NEED TO RAGE THE HELL OUT WHEN I SPEAK TO SANJI!”
“BECAUSE TWO PERVERTS SHOULDN’T BE IN A ROOM ALONE TOGETHER.”
“KISS MY ASS”
However one day you believe your argument may have turned for the worse.
You and Zoro have been actually having less interactions since you all met back up .
Zoro taken his role as the swordsman of the crew way more seriously and though you respect it and even admire it, it’s just you barely even communicate anymore. Not even petty arguments.
When you do start to try it he just breathes out his nose and finishes what he was doing as if he didn’t care to retort back
It just wasn’t the same between you and Zoro
And you even questioned If you and him were still together
Granted you both didn’t have much time to settle where your relationship was before separating, but you still wanted to at least talk about it, but you both never had time to do so
Intimacy has been long gone. When you seen him again he didn’t even hug you back he just patted your head
He doesn’t sleep in your room anymore. If he does it’s when you’re not in there and busy on watch
It started to get to you.
You wanted to wait and give it time but it’s been weeks now and it’s almost as if he subconsciously just broke up with you over the two years
You tried getting your mind off of it seeing as now there are bigger fish to fry and stronger enemies to defeat
Eventually you and the crew meet Law again and surprisingly you two hit it off better than him and anyone else on the crew.
He didn’t find you annoying—you were level headed and relatively nice to talk to so you managed to keep him company sometimes when he wanted to separate from all of the Strawhats
The attention he gave you was platonic but it was nice none the less—-you even managed to crack a smile out of him a few times
“Y/N-ya. Come help me with this, yeah?”
You both have amazing combat skills together too and it bought you some brownie points with him
Zoro However began to notice this friendship develop immediately
But he didn’t have time to ask you about it he needed to train more
Today though, he had some time
Zoro being Zoro was lost in the forest again but managed to somehow find you and Law sitting across from each other talking. You were laughing with him not even noticing the green haired swordsman approach you from the side.
“Lost again?” Law shot at Zoro still giving you eye contact.
Zoro Just grumbled, “NO! I just happened to find you both…we’re leaving this place soon so you both should wrap up your little date.” You frowned a bit at his tone. Date?
“Date?” You got up to follow him with Law a nice distance behind you both. “We were talking.”
“Yeah you two love doing that—“
“The hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t mean shit. Keep walking.”
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a tiny bit happy seeing that Zoro at least noticed and felt jealous about you and Law’s closeness. In reality though you actually didn’t do that to get back at Zoro you enjoyed Law’s company and was refreshing to be around.
You and Zoro bickered a bit walking around the forest not even realizing you three were walking in circles because ZORO was guiding y’all.
“So if you see me talking to another woman what you’re ganna think I’m gay now?!”
“Go ahead and be gay for all I give a fuck—“
“THAT’S NOT THE POINT IM TRYING TO MAKE—“
“Room.”
You both appeared in front of the Sunny not even realizing it still arguing.
“HEY!” Law yelled getting both of your attention walking in between you both, “We’re back. Come find me when you’re done, Y/N-ya.”
“We’re done Talking actually.” Zoro Shot back heading to the training room.
“Says who?! I ain’t finish asshole the hell is all this passive aggressiveness towards me?!”
“Oh, Shut the fuck up!”
“NO YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO ALL FUCKING MONTH I BEEN TRYING TO TALK TO YOU BUT YOU BEING THE DICK THAT YOU ARE JUST BEEN IGNORING ME AND THE FIRST TIME WE DO YOU WANNA FUCKING ARGUE SO FUCK YOU!”
It got awkwardly quiet on the ship. Sanji, and Nami gasped, Robin covered Chopper’s ears, Luffy and Usopp stopped playing, and Franky & Brook just paused.
Zoro looked like the vein in his head was about to explode. He was irritated beyond belief and the patience he barely had was already ran out.
“Go the fuck up the ladder now.”
You squinted your eyes at him. His teeth was gritted at yours and he began to breath a little harder. If he were to hit you you honestly wouldn’t be surprised at this point. You felt the rage coming from his body, he never got this angry with you and you never got this angry with him.
“If we aren’t ganna resolve our issues then I’m not going no where with you.”
“Resolve what exactly? The fact that you can’t be alone? Or the fact that you got bigger tits and you wanna flaunt them around to every guy you see because you crave male attention —-“
“Ain’t this a bitch— THAT’S what you think I’m doing?! You think I’m being some kind of slut or something?! I don’t need nobody’s mothafuckin’ attention if anything I’d like yours but it seems like your swords have all of it!—“
“Y/N..” Nami whispered, and walked over behind you to grab your arm since you started to approach Zoro as if your were ganna hit him.
She and Robin seen the hurt in your face for a while now when Zoro ignores you, they haven’t said anything about it but they had a feeling a fight like this was bound to happen.
“At least my swords don’t go around cheating.”
“Ch—-YOU THINK IM CHEATING ON YOU?”
“IM NOT FUCKING STUPID Y/N IVE SEEN HOW CLOSE YOUVE GOTTEN WITH THAT TRA-GUY—“
“IM ONLY CLOSE WITH HIM BECAUSE WE HAVE GOOD CONVERSATION. WE. COMMUNICATE. UNLIKE. YOU. AND I.” You pointed your finger back and fourth looking as if you were ready to shoot Zoro right then and there so Nami ran over out of worry and held you back by your arm and Usopp and Brook ran over to hold Zoro back because he had the same angry look in his eyes.
“IF YOU KNEW HOW TO SPEAK I WOULDN’T HAVE TO GO TO TALK TO OTHER MEN. Ever thought about that? Roronoa Zoro?”
Zoro stopped moving and just sighed pulling away from the two and walked the opposite way.
“Then keep communicating with him because we’re through. He can have you.”
It was almost as if none of your points were being heard. Your stomach dropped to your ass hearing him wanting to be done with you.
You scoffed.
Sanji was about to go and beat Zoro possibly to death for how he was speaking to you but you stopped him. It didn’t matter it wasn’t going to change anything.
“NO, ITS NOT OKAY YOU PIECE OF SHIT YOU DON’T TALK TO A WOMAN LIKE THAT—!”
“Sanji!” You Held him back fighting any slick of tear to fall down the rim of your waterline. “It’s fine….leave him.”
-
Weeks have past since the argument, the entire energy of the crew has changed. You and Zoro stayed Your distances and never even spoke a syllable to each other once. You don’t eat with the crew anymore no matter how many times Sanji tries to kick Zoro out, but you just try to avoid the trouble.
The girls tried making you feel better, even Luffy tried by doing stupid faces but you haven’t cracked a smile in you don’t know how long. Your face is deadpanned now but your eyes constantly look sad.
You don’t talk much at all either and it hurts, a literal pain in your chest. You’ve been having headaches and a bit of sickness as well. Usually when you feel bad Zoro pokes fun at you for not having his immune system and holds you all day making Sanji bring you soups and teas. But that’s in the long past and now you’re alone in your room. Eyes were puffy, hair was wrapped in a tight scarf, and you had on nothing but a loose shirt and shorts as everybody except you, Franky, and Chopper were out on some new land. Nothing but the sounds of the crashing water and your subtle sniffles fill the room. You wasn’t sure if it was sniffs from being sick or sad but you didn’t care to figure out which
You sat up and decided to just read a book until you fell asleep again. You rummage through your stuff and found a picture. From two years ago. It was the first time you kissed Zoro and Luffy managed to sneak a lot of pictures, from when you both were caught, to Sanji looking pissed, to Zoro chasing Luffy and Sanji chasing Zoro. It was the first night Zoro confessed, how much you meant to him, how much he loved you, but didn’t “like” you, how much you drove him crazy—
And how much he wanted to be with you even after you both achieved your goals.
All the wonderful memories of you and Zoro pulled out some tears blurring your vision, you laughed at yourself with your cheeks now being stained, how stupid could you be to fall for him so hard?
Your chest hurts again. More than it did before it nearly felt like you couldn’t breathe, you hit the back of the wall and slid down crying in ache and pain in silence. Even moreso because now when you see Zoro from the times you mindlessly glanced at him, he looks happier to be without you than with you.
Is this what a heart break felt like?
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yowyowyaoi · 8 months
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Kisame’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki
From Deidara
Me and Tobi found a big muddy hole full of earthworms, let’s go fishing! 😁
We finished it last night, sorry 
I was just teasing him!
Exploding or boring?
Not a tea person but thanks anyway 
LMAOOO he probably pissed himself 🤣
Pls tell Itachi I’m not gonna hurt her I just want to pet her for a while!
Leader said he’ll kill us if we do it again so no probably not 😓
You gotta use the conditioner too or else it won’t be effective 
I’ll ask him but he don’t really like places like that. Says they’re too happy 🙄
From Hidan
If you have two does that mean one sleeps while the other fucks or ?
No offense but it’s literally so boring I can’t sit still that long 
I would say he’s giving you blue balls but.
Can’t imagine giving a shit but 🤷‍♂️
Tried that once. Got the mask halfway off and suddenly felt like I was drowning. Never again.
Old bastard said no 😑
You need to watch him he takes like two bites and pushes the plate away 
How? Half of us are gay half are insane and some are both 🤣
One dick, two dicks, your dicks, BLUE dicks! Lol get it??
From Sasori
Thanks but water erodes my “skin”.
I’m done reading it, you can borrow if you like.
Please make sure he puts on sunscreen he’s too stubborn to listen to me.
Don’t really remember all that well but I believe it was ice cream.
He has to *want* treatment and so far he’s turned down every offer Kakuzu or myself has made.
They make for more appealing puppets if they have some unique physical characteristic while they’re still living.
I’ll probably marry him some day but first he has to work on not blowing himself to bits.
Oh of course. You know you don’t need to ask.
From Kakuzu
Hey I almost beat you and I’m 60+ years your senior.
Just this once … no charge. Worth it to see him freak out like that.
I’m not very well-versed in animal anatomy but I can take a look and try my best.
EVERYBODY pays. Itachi too.
Fits nice. My thanks.
This place is falling apart, if it’s not one thing it’s another.
It’s annoying but I don’t see any serious long-term effects.
From Konan
That’s so sweet, thank you ☺️ 
Write down the exact kind for me, I’ll pick it up the next time I go to the market.
He’s a sweetheart isn’t he? 🥰
I’ll take your word for it, but ducks are so cute I don’t think I could eat one.
Come to my room I have some eye drops that’ll help him.
If I let that happen no work would ever be done and they’d likely kill each other.
So many miles, with these heels it’s hard on my feet.
If you want it that rare then there’s really no point to me cooking it at all 😒
At this point the yelling has become background music.
Me on one shoulder and Itachi on the other. You big show-off 😁
From Tobi/Obito
You only beat me because Deidara distracted me!
Forty cookies isn’t even that many. Plus Itachi ate two more.
Kakuzu said to earn the money myself so I stole one of his bounties 🤷🏻‍♂️
Itches. A LOT.
Can’t stand tea but if you have any hot chocolate, yeah.
You should hang out with Zetsu more often then. Like one never-ending picnic.
He really wants to go but I don’t have a pole. You have a spare?
Yeah but he might let us get a fish-tank if YOU said you needed it, like for health or something 
Sushi? Isn’t that cannibalism?!
Fuck him AND his perfect ass. Literally and figuratively.
Don’t give me that “kid” shit, we’re like the same age!
From Zetsu
You want to split that guy’s leg with me? He was very fat, lots of good meat 😋
He’s a good man but doesn’t his dubious emotional state concern you?
It’s a lot like hearing two voices at once. Constantly. 
It’s no fun if they don’t scream a bit first. You know this.
I did the scouting; that lake about five miles up the road is both deep and fairly clean.
Let’s hide under his bed and scare him. I bet money we can get him to soil himself while crying for that damn Jashin 🤣
From Nagato
I thank you for the tea. It helped me to sleep.
Well, keep an eye on him.
The pain is worse when I stand but Sasori is working on prosthetics for me that may solve the problem.
As long as you return in time for your next mission.
Get that looked at as soon as possible. We can’t afford to have you out of commission.
I do, but she deserves so much better than myself.
I’ll speak to Kakuzu about getting you a new one.
If you two are going to do that, please keep it away from our hideouts. It disturbs Konan to hear the screaming.
From Itachi
I ate this morning. Promise.
That wasn’t Hidan’s fault, I’d forgotten to take my pill so my reflexes were slow.
Just consider it. Uchiha Kisame. Say it out loud. It’s beautiful 😌
Can you check if I left that shirt in your room?
Dei and I went there last night. The manager banned us for life because Dei set off a C3 in the men’s room. 😑
Fine. You buy the skirt I’ll “model” it for you.
Sad. Come stay with me please.
You worry too much.
That picture is for YOUR EYES ONLY. 
Aww what do you mean? Kitty loves you she’s not trying to eat you!
It’s one that Konan gave me. It’s really good you’d probably like it too.
Tea?
I didn’t *fall* in, he *pushed* me. Big difference.
Mom taught me when I was younger. I can teach you too if you want.
You’re mine too. Always ❤️
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robiny · 3 months
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I need to vent about this - is there such thing as media literacy in lobotomy kaisen ? I see nuclear takes every day and I don’t engage with them because I know these people have their mind’s set and can’t believe anything else or their fragile view point will shatter. But how can you even argue satosugu were just friends 😭😭😭 like do you even have friends? shoko and gojo are friends, megumi and nobara were friends, geto and gojo? Im sorry but how much subtext can you overlook and how much subtext can there be for it to matter. OF COURSE gege is not going to STRAIGHT UP say they are gay lovers this is shonen and you are proving him right by arguing against it. AND ABOVE ALL ELSE the thing that truly pisses me of tremendously makes me genuinely hysteric, is people misinterpreting gojo’s last words to geto. HOW CAN YOU ARGUE WITH A STRAIGHT FACE THAT HE SAID ANYTHING BUT “I love you” HOWEEEWMEMDMSMSDN HOW, WHY WOULD THAT CONFESSION BE MUTED IF HE SAID SOME BULLSHIT LIKE UR MY BESTIE WHY like genuinely, these words weren’t hid from the audience just because, ITS A CONFESSION OF FEELINGS SO DEEP SO PROFOUND BUT SHAMEFUL AND SECRETIVE AND THEIRS FOR ONLY GETOS EARS TO HEAR AND GETOS HEART TO FEEL. WHY “LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE” I WONDER WHAT MADE HIM THINK OF LOVE THIS WAY PROBABLY FUCKING UTAHIME NOT THE GUY WHO HIS SOUL KNOWS BETTER THAN HIS ALL FUCKING KNOWING EYES. WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOUR LOVE FOR A BEST FRIEND WHO HAS HURT YOU TWISTED ??? NO TF YOU WIULDNT YOU DONT PONDER ABOUT YOUR LOVE YOU DONT HIDE IT FOR 10 YEARS YOU DONT WANT IT BACK EVEN IF ITS THE THING THAT RUINS YOU. no but genuinely any other interpretation of the words is stupid, im sorry, it’s not just their relationship but also the scene itself. getos reaction… he was shocked, then happy, blushing because it made him ashamed but at the same time smiling because it made him so happy, wishing after pushing away gojo for years that at the very end gojo would stop loving him but he never did. literally at the brink of death, finding peace in the chaos, but facing this unconditional love, geto wished only for gojo to curse him a little so he wouldn’t suffer losing him…. best of friends everybody
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zedortoo · 2 days
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HAPPY DAY AFTER WEED DAY err here's how I think certain characters act when under the influence of alcohol or weed
Peppino:
Relatively good natured when drunk, can get a bit boisterous at times but never on purpose. Used to have a drinking problem after the war but now drinks a responsible amount.
Usually just. Falls asleep when he gets high. Too much stress on the poor bastard already, his body takes any chance to conk the fuck out. When he's awake he's quiet, almost in his own little world.
Gustavo:
Does stupid shit when drunk. Takes any dare and makes it ten times more dangerous. Also seems to somehow be invincible while under the influence of alcohol, none of his stunts ever go wrong. Often climbs people taller than him.
Laughs at anything while high. He would laugh at a fly spot on a wall. One time he was doubled over barely able to catch a breath because he thought a painting of a duck was the funniest shit ever. Loves to cuddle and pet brick, who takes advantage of his inebriated state to ask for lots of treats which Gustavo gives out without a second thought.
MR STIIIIIIICK:
Very happy drunk! A bit of a lightweight but once he gets a buzz he wants to be EVERYBODY'S friend. It's like his entire personality does a 180. All of a sudden he's laughing at everything and not starting arguments or trying to scam people. Perhaps drinks a bit more than someone his age should but he still manages. Loves to sing and dance even if he has a terrible voice and two left feet.
Gets incredibly heightened emotions under the influence of weed. In most cases this leads to him freaking the FUCK out and having like three panic attacks. Thinks the government put a chip in his skin and considers whether or not to pull it out. He doesnt do this every time he gets high though, when he's with people he trusts he relaxes a lot more. Doesn't talk much. Still dealing with heightened senses but in a more palatable way, a fluffy blanket is like heaven to him. like peppino, often conks out as his body desperately tries to catch up on sleep.
Pepperman:
Surprisingly lightweight for someone his size. Despite being a bigass pepper it only takes him as much as the average Joe to get drunk. Often gets experimental with his paintings, had dipped himself in paint and cannonballed naked (or as naked as he can be) onto canvases to make art with his cheek prints or some shit. Has a taste for nicer alcohol and orders gay ass drinks whenever he goes out. Turns his metaphorical nose up at regular beer.
Mellows out a lot when high. He becomes a lot less self centered and is able to talk about things other than him and his art. Doesn't smoke, only does edibles but likes making ceramic pipes and shit for his friends. Sometimes he can get emotional and go into tiny pepper mode, which is why he doesn't tend to get high alone.
Vigilante:
Can handle his alcohol relatively well. could drink most of the cast under the table any day. If he gets too drunk he begins to melt into a puddle, struggling to keep a form. Makes his own incredibly potent moonshine, which would probably kill a small dog. Loves doing karaoke while shitfaced, is actually good at it.
Literally just fucking melts while high. First time it happened, everyone thought he was dead because he wasn't making any movements or noise. No eyes no nothing. He says he enjoys himself, but noone really knows because. Well. He's a goddamn puddle. Tends to trip sit for the more anxious, has stopped Mr Stick from having a heart attack at least twice. Of course, stick never thanks him when he's sober because he's an asshole, but he has endless praises while high.
Noise:
ROWDY DRUNK. ANGRY DRUNK. BITER. keep a wide berth when out drinking with him, he'll pick a fight with whoever he thinks looks at him funny. He won't attack any of his friends though, in fact he becomes very protective. Has growled like a feral animal multiple times- though to be fair, he does that sober, too.
Like pepperman, becomes less painful while high. You can hold a conversation with him without him insulting your entire bloodline. Actually a pretty chill guy most of the time, laughs at dumb stuff. He does get very cuddly though and will wrap himself around whoever is available. Usually this is noisette, but he'll settle for anyone. One time he curled up and fell asleep in Peppermans arms.
Noisette:
Doesn't drink much, doesn't like the way alcohol tastes unless it's flavoured as something else. On the rare occasion she drinks enough to get inebriated, she's just very giggly but surprisingly quiet. Just loves to listen and laugh with her friends. Surprisingly cooks very well when drunk. Gets very red in the face.
When she's high, she also doesn't talk much. She just giggles and stims alot, likes soft things even more than usual. Gets very sleepy, which everyone thinks is adorable. She's always attached to Noise when she's high, snuggled up to him and hiding her face. She just wants love and Noise is happy to give it.
Fake Peppino:
Alcohol doesn't work on them, per se. They don't get mentally impaired but, like Vigi, fakey becomes very melty. He never seems to mind, in fact it seems to be relaxing to him to let go of his physical form. Although he can't actually get drunk, he loves to mimic the behavior of his buddies when they're shitfaced, which can lead to him doing dumb shit.
Noone can actually tell if weed has an effect on him or not. He acts similar to the way he does when given alcohol, becoming very melty, and seems very relaxed- though, nobody really knows if they're actually high or just pretending to fit in. The one key is that their sclera go BRIGHT red. Almost neon when compared to the regular bloodshot high look. Maybe they're trying to mimic that too, but it's a source of a lot of laughs for the rest of the crew.
Pizzahead:
SAD drunk. Actually, no, not really? Whenever they drink, they start crying, but nobody can place whether it's happy or sad. Very lightweight, two glasses and the tears start pouring. Nobody can figure out if they're happy or sad tears, because Pizzahead just blubbers and tries to hug people the entire time. Has the ability to simply sleep until his hangover wears off, which often leads to him just curling up wherever and snoring away until the afternoon.
Gets even more mischievous when high. Rubs their hands together and plots stupid shit. Practices his evil laugh. Instead of his usual closed eyes, when he's high they bulge RIGHT out and scare everyone because he looks like he's glaring directly at them. Has a habit of lacing the edibles with psychedelics, freaking everybody out, which is why he's banned from bringing his own material to the sesh because it'd be too difficult to just ban him outright.
Gerome:
Literally cannot get drunk. He's a rock, it's not possible. Likes the taste of beer, though, and drinks it like it's water. this has lead to people who dont know him to presume he's an alcoholic, which he laughs at. Dude just doesn't care.
Surprisingly enough, however, weed does work on him. How? Cartoon laws, idk. Gets *slightly* more talkative when high, but it's mainly just nods and mhms, unless he's with John, in which case he'll be yapping his brothers ear off. He only does it in private, though. Nobody can know how talkative he can get.
John:
Can actually get drunk, unlike his brother. it's like a party game to see if he can get even the slightest bit tipsy because he's just so massive. Could beat anyone in a drinking competition and still be sober while the other person is blackout drunk. The only time he got fully sloshed was when everyone worked together to bring him several barrels of liquor. They had to keep an eye on him for the rest of the night because he REALLY wanted to smash pizzaheads skull in. Slept for a week afterwards, everyone thought he died.
Doesn't get high often, mainly because it makes him more emotional. He doesn't enjoy talking about his experiences in the tower while sober, but when he's high it kinda just... Spills out. He doesn't know how to stop it but next thing he knows he's crying and feeling like an idiot, not matter how many people attempt to comfort him. If he's in a good mood pre-weed, though, he's usually fine, just having a good laugh with everyone else and not batting an eye when people use him as a rock climbing surface.
YAYYY hope these were readable uhhh I have never drank or smoked before because I am a good Christian boy (lie) so sorry if these aren't accurate 😢
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morningberriesao3 · 8 months
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MWMD- Pin Me Down
Steve Harrington X Virgin!Eddie Munson
Summary: It's Halloween. Things get heated while Eddie and Steve get ready.
Word Count: 4.7K
Chapter: 5 of 6 CHAPTER LIST
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
Content Warnings: Explicit m/m sexual content including… Virgin Eddie Munson, Dry Humping, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Minor Crossdressing (ahem, EDDIE WEARS A G-STRING), Oh no they’re both tops?! what will they do!!?!, Top Steve Harrington, Power Bottom Eddie Munson, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Nipple Clamps, Under-Negotiated Kink, Unsafe Sex, Creampie. Underage Drinking and Recreational Drug Use
Tags: Eddie Munson lives, 5 + 1 Things, slow burn, POV Eddie Munson, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Slow Burn, Sexual Tension, Caretaking, Massages, Sharing a Bed, House Party, Play Flighting, Bros Being Bros (JK it’s very homoerotic), Halloween, Boys in Makeup, Independence Day, New Years Eve, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending
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Many Ways, Many Days, to Say ‘I Love You’
A/N: things are starting to heat up ;) just guys doing guy things!! that’s all!
October 31st, 1986
Halloween has always been Eddie’s favourite holiday.
Maybe it’s a little bit predictable, given his ‘scary’ image and the rumours of him being some satanist cult leader. But it’s a holiday where everyone is kind of on the same level as him. Everyone acts a little weird, looks a little scary, dresses a little dark. It’s the one day a year that nobody is ashamed of listening to Highway to Hell or Paranoid. On Halloween, everybody is a bit of a freak.
Honestly, Eddie has never really considered himself a team player, but this year his costume seems too good to pass up.
Maybe he’s gone a bit overboard, but he always does when it comes to costumes.
He’s currently adjusting a pair of (pretty realistic) devil horns on his head. The band gets hidden by his mane of curls, which he’s teased to make sure they stay extra buoyant. He’s wearing his only pair of leather pants that are a size too small because he got them when he was sixteen. They cling to his thighs like paint, he can barely bend his knees. But they look good, he thinks.
He’s also wearing a pair of platform boots that are wrapped in silver buckles. He got them one year when he dressed up as Gene Simmons from KISS. They’re probably six inches tall, which makes him a whopping 6’4”, and it makes him feel admittedly all too powerful.
One might think that the leather pants and the boots are what makes his costume a bit too much. But no, Eddie doesn’t think so. What he thinks might make his costume too much, is what he’s chosen to wear on his top half.
It’s a fishnet shirt that took him nearly twenty minutes to put on. It kept getting caught up on his watch and his rings, which he probably should have taken off. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty. It has long sleeves, because he’s modest, but one can still see all his tattoos and his ruined skin poking out from between the large holes.
That’s not even the most risqué part of his getup. Because overtop of that, he’s wearing a red corset with black embroidery. It sinches in his waist – makes him look slutty. The top sits underneath his chest, so his nipple (because he still very much only has one) peaks out from behind the mesh.
The best part is, it’s freshly pierced. A little silver bar pokes from his skin and shines in the light, and it matches the buckles on his boots. And for once Eddie actually feels hot.
Steve is currently changing in their room. Eddie is feeling all fucked up and giddy, because somehow he’s convinced Steve to dress as an angel to match him, and not to dress up as a Smurf to match Robin. Of course, considering his other option was blue body paint, it wasn’t a very hard argument, but Eddie still counts it as a win.
He doesn’t want to consider it a couple’s costume, but it feels like a couple’s costume.
Eddie’s been trying (and failing, as always) to keep his mind from wandering to things like that, ever since their little kissing thing months ago. Because they never talked about it, and they sure as Hell never did anything like it again. Even the few times they’ve gotten tipsy.
So Eddie is guessing it really was just a spin the bottle thing.
Yeah, Steve’s still been sleeping in his bed, they still wake up tanged together half the time, but it never goes further than that. He hasn’t, like, intentionally spooned with Eddie since the night of Fourth of July either. Which shouldn’t shock him because Steve’s straight, and Eddie thinks it’s ridiculous that he even has to convince himself of that.
So yeah, Steve is getting ready in their room while Eddie does his makeup in the bathroom, and he definitely isn’t thinking about couple’s costumes or kisses from three months ago.
There’s a knock at the bathroom door that was never fully closed to begin with. Steve doesn’t wait for Eddie to answer before he’s pushing it open and joining him next to the small vanity.
Steve looks – well, shit – he looks like a dessert, like something sweet that Eddie wants to lick and swallow and consume until there’s nothing left of him. His hair is perfect – it always is – but now there’s a silver tinsel halo that’s floating above it. Steve’s wearing his normal Levi’s because they really didn’t have a lot of pants to choose from, but he stole a white silk blouse from his mother’s closet that’s only half-buttoned, displaying his chest hair like it’s art or something. The arms are cut for a woman, so the shiny fabric is clinging to his biceps.
Eddie drops the eyeshadow in his hands and it clatters into the sink.
They’re both gawking at each other, and it doesn’t make sense why Steve is gawking at Eddie until he remembers he’s kinda half crossdressing, so he probably looks ridiculous to Steve.
He tries to swallow down the saliva that’s pooling under his tongue. Some sort of bodily reaction to something he wants to eat. “You look, uh, good. Real cool.”
Steve’s eyes aren’t looking at Eddie’s and are focused somewhere on his chest. His nipple, to be exact. It looks like it takes an actual force to pry them away. “Yeah. You too. Very cool. Your makeup is awesome, man.”
Eddie smiles, picks up the eyeshadow that’s still in the sink. He has some sort of grungy red and black smoky eye going on, lined in coal liner, and just a secret between you and him, a bit of mascara as well. He used the red eyeshadow as a sort of blush, blended into the hallow of his cheeks and into his temples. It makes his cheekbones look sharp.
“Thanks,” he says, eyeing up Steve like a project he wants to work on. “You know, a bit of makeup would really complete your whole getup, too.”
He expects Steve to scoff, say something like ‘forget it’ or ‘in your dreams’, but instead Steve is nodding and stepping closer to Eddie. “Sure. You have to do it, though. I don’t know how.”
Eddie has never – not once – thought that putting makeup on Steve might be a sexual fantasy of his. But as soon as he hears that, he realises very quickly that it’s going to be another thing that plagues his mind for the rest of eternity.
“Oh. Yeah, sure. Okay.” He fumbles with his makeup kit, which he might be embarrassed he has, but Steve isn’t judging him and doesn’t look like he’s about to, so he opens it and lets Steve peer inside. There are cheap eyeshadows in mostly blacks and browns, but he does have one sheer, sparkly white. He takes that one out. He also has two lipsticks – a red and a black, from previous Halloweens – but neither of them would do. One, however, came with a free pink lip gloss that he never thought he’d use, but he’s plucking it out of his case as well. “Something sweet and simple for your first time, right, angel?”
Eddie doesn’t even have to put blush on Steve’s cheeks if he flushes like that all night. “Sure. Sweet and simple. You’re the boss.”
Eddie’s stomach, and heart, and asshole, and dick(?) are doing backflips as he gets nice and close to Steve. He takes a clean(ish) brush and dips it into the eyeshadow. “Okay. Close your eyes.”
Steve listens so beautifully, his eyes flutter shut and he leans into Eddie. The brush sweeps over his eyelids and leaves a shimmering cast of pearly white that looks amazing against Steve’s olive skin. When Steve’s eyes open again, he looks impossibly more beautiful, and yeah, Eddie is going to be thinking about Steve in makeup for the rest of his life.
“How’s it look?” asks Steve, which is the dumbest question Eddie has ever heard, so he rolls his eyes.
“It looks great.” An understatement.
“What next?”
“You cool with mascara?” Eddie wants to get Steve’s eyes looking all big a doe-like. He already has long lashes, so he knows it’ll absolutely make him look gorgeous and end Eddie’s whole life all at once.
“What’s mascara?”
“Like… eyelashes.”
“Yeah. Do whatever you want to me.”
Eddie chokes on nothing, starts coughing up a storm. He holds a finger up until it calms, then blames it on his smoker’s lungs.
It’s hard getting close to Steve’s eye with the wand, but Eddie can’t blame him. It’s not like Eddie isn’t already super clumsy without the proximity. He still says, “Hold still,” and Steve keeps blinking so it takes a whole five minutes, but eventually the mascara is on. And if Eddie thought that the eyeshadow looked good…
“Cool.” Eddie stares down at where Steve is blinking up at him from sitting on the edge of the tub. He has to physically shake his head to snap himself out of his stupor. “One more thing.”
He unwraps the plastic from the new tube of lip gloss. It’s almost the colour of Steve’s lips, but it has little flecks of glitter in it. So when Eddie applies it, it makes his lips shine, which is what lip gloss is supposed to do, but still it’s almost too much.
“Well?” Steve smiles, and it’s almost enough to send Eddie into a full cardiac arrest. It’s the smile he uses when he knows he looks good, the one he usually reserves for some cute girl that stops by the video store. It’s a little crooked, it flashes his white teeth and makes his eyes crinkle.
And Eddie wants to kiss him – lick that vanilla flavoured gloss right off his lips. Make that mascara run from his eyes.
“Looks good,” he says. He gestures for Steve to stand and that’s exactly what he does, joining Eddie’s side to look at himself in his uncle’s trailer’s mirror.
“Wow.” Steve gets real close to his reflection, squinting his eyes, making them go wide, puckering his lips, poking at his eyelashes with his fingers. “This is crazy. It’s, like, barely noticeable, but it’s still so different.”
“Mhm. You look pretty.” Eddie says it before he really means to say it, which he does a lot these days. He clears the frog from his throat. “I mean, kind of like a girl? Not that you look like a girl. You? Look like a girl? Pfft, never. I mean, girls wear lip gloss and mascara… and it makes them look pretty. So it’s kind of like that.”
He definitely just made it worse.
But Steve doesn’t look mad or anything so Eddie just kind of sucks his lips between his teeth to stop himself from saying anything else.
“Yeah, I guess I get it,” Steve says, even though he still looks confused. “Hey, can I carry the lip stuff with me? I feel like it’ll rub off quick when I drink something.”
“Oh, you mean the lip gloss?” Eddie dangles it between his fingers. “Gotta get the terminology right. You might be able to impress some ladies with your knowledge of their interests.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Lip gloss. Can I have it?”
“Hmm…” Eddie starts backing out of the bathroom with the gloss still very much in his hands. “You’ll have to get it from me first.”
He turns. He sprints. Steve is already hot on his heels.
Another thing that Eddie should probably mention, is that this has become a sort of regular occurrence. Him running, Steve chasing. Sometimes the other way around. But yeah, it’s a thing that they do now, that always ends with one of them getting knocked to the ground, pinned there until they yell uncle.
Eddie really wouldn’t yell uncle, but each time he gets pressed into the ground by Steve he gets one of his commonly occurring boners. So when he starts to feel his dick filling up he taps out so Steve doesn’t notice. But that’s neither here nor there.
“Get back here, Munson!” Steve’s fingers graze the back of Eddie’s pants, but there’s no belt there for him to slip his fingers into.
So Eddie twists and gets out of Steve’s reach. He corners himself in the living room, next to the television. They’re standing across from each other with their hands facing out. “What, Harrington? You scared?”
Eddie fakes left, Steve lunges. He manages to slip past on the right as Steve flounders to get a hold of him, but Eddie is too quick. He jumps onto the couch.
Steve crouches just beyond the coffee table, waiting for Eddie’s next move. “Not fair, man. Your pants make you slippery.”
“Bullshit,” says Eddie. “That fancy lotion you put on your hands makes them slippery. Don’t blame the pants.”
Steve pretends to pounce – it makes Eddie wobble on the sinking cushions of the sofa while he simultaneously tries to balance on his platform boots. His hands flail out to steady himself, but he manages to stay firmly planted on his feet.
“Just surrender yourself, man,” Steve threatens. “I’m not playing around anymore. I will tackle you. It will hurt.”
Eddie’s grin feels feral. “Is that a promise, Steeevie?”
Steve’s eyes go wild, and his face twists into a playful sneer, and he fucking jumps one foot onto the coffee table and flies across the remaining distance onto the couch. This, for once, takes Eddie by surprise, so he has no time to do anything other than wail some sort of shriek from his lungs. His foot gets caught between two couch cushions as Steve’s arms cage around his shoulders, and they both tumble onto their sides.
Eddie thrashes against Steve’s steel grip, but Steve has both size and strength against him, so he somehow get arranged into a compromising position. He’s on his back, his wrists are pinned down on either side of his head, his knees are spread and Steve’s hips are slotted between them. Each time he shuffles, he somehow gets pressed further into the cushions, Steve’s chest somehow gets closer to his own, his hips wiggle a bit more comfortably into the space between his legs.
He's already turned on. There’s way too much friction happening right now – he can feel the slide of Steve’s jeans against him – and remember how Eddie said he often gets hard when he and Steve playfight? Well, he’s getting hard, and it’s extra uncomfortable because his pants are excruciatingly tight, and Steve’s never quite pinned him down like this. Not to mention how goddamn pretty he looks with his shiny lips and long eyelashes.
So he’s about to say uncle before he can get himself into an awkward situation. He’s about to tell Steve to fuck off, and spout something about disadvantages. But when he opens his mouth, Steve shifts so both of Eddie’s wrists are now in one of his hands, until they’re pinned between his devil horns.
Steve’s other hand finds its way between their bodies, and one of his fingers trace against the black boning at the top of Eddie’s corset, right below one of his pecs. So his mouth snaps shut and his eyes go wide, because why is Steve caressing him like that?
He really wants to know.
“Where’d you get this?” Steve asks, cocking his head sideways to look into Eddie’s shell-shocked face.
It takes a minute for him to comprehend Steve’s words. “Uh – a sex store.”
He doesn’t really realise that his answer is just adding to the awkwardness of the moment, because it’s just the simple truth. He bought the corset at a sex shop in Indianapolis. It came with a tiny black G-string, obviously meant for a woman, that he’d tried on anyway. It didn’t really fit, didn’t really contain all of him, but it was still shoved in the back of his underwear drawer anyway. It still made him feel all fluttery when he saw himself scantily clad in such a small scrap of fabric.
“Hmm. I like it.” Steve squeezes his hand around Eddie’s wrists. “Did you get anything else there?”
Eddie’s heart is racing in his chest, like it’s trying to escape. He’s trying to think, ‘did he?’ but his brain is broken. So he just shakes his head.
This is the first time that Eddie clues into their situation – really clues into it. Everything up until this point has been explainable. Weird, sure, but there was always some sort of excuse that could clear away the tension. But Steve has that fuck me look in his eyes, his body is boring down into Eddie’s, his fingers are exploring his costume and his face is fucking inches away.
“That’s too bad. Maybe you can take me there sometime, and we can change that.”
This time Eddie nods. Real words still evade him. What is English? He doesn’t know.
But Steve shifts down on him again and their crotches rub together. And Eddie whimpers. His lips pop open and the noise escapes him before he can hold it in, and he whimpers. He wants to fucking die but he also wants Steve to do that again.
And he does.
Steve drags his body against Eddie’s, this time intentionally, experimentally, and Eddie’s eyes roll into the back of his skull, and he bites down onto his lip to stop himself from making another embarrassing noise but it doesn’t really help.
He wants to say something to save the situation, just in case he’s reading it wrong. Just so he doesn’t incriminate himself. But he even more desperately wants whatever is happening to continue, so he averts his eyes from Steve’s and says nothing.
But Steve doesn’t allow that for too long. His free hand forces Eddie’s face back to his.
“You okay?” he asks. Eddie swallows, and nods once more, and still doesn’t say a word. Steve bears down on Eddie further, pressing his wrists and his back into the cushions. “Are you gonna say uncle?”
Steve thrusts against Eddie, and this time his breath hitches in his throat like he’s enjoying it, like he knows Eddie’s enjoying it, like that’s the goal. This time Eddie’s pelvis angles upwards and he chases the feeling. When Steve moves on top of him again, he can feel that Steve is hard, too. So he says, “No.”
He’s felt Steve half hard before, in the night when he’s sleeping. Those times were different. It wasn’t while they were both awake, it wasn’t while they were both aware. It wasn’t while they were rutting against each other like animals in heat. And Eddie was so wildly confused, but even more than that he was ravenous with desire.
Steve’s grip loosens around his wrists, his hands trail lower on Eddie’s body until they squeeze into his hips and shove him into the couch. His hips begin to circle into Eddie’s. This absolutely cannot be construed as anything other than what it is: Steve is also turned on and he knows Eddie is turned on, and they’re very much humping against each other.
“Say uncle and I’ll stop,” Steve says lowly into Eddie’s ear, and Eddie has never shut his mouth so quickly, because there was no way he was going to say uncle, there was no way he wanted this to end.
Steve takes Eddie’s silence the way he means it.
The most arousing sound Eddie has ever heard rumbles from Steve’s chest, and his hands are adjusting again, this time shoving into the limited space behind Eddie’s lower back. His arms wrap behind Eddie and he pulls him into his chest, and his face buries itself into the crook of his neck. Eddie can feel hot puffs of air from Steve’s mouth.
Their hips start circling together.
It’s a timid thing at first, because what the fuck is actually happening? It’s all new – nothing like this has ever happened between them. Something like this has rarely happened to Eddie at all. So no, he doesn’t really dive right in, and neither does Steve because he’s probably having the same thoughts.
But he hears Steve in his ear. He hears these raunchy little sounds bubbling from his throat that are so obviously involuntary because Eddie’s making them, too. And Steve has a death grip around his middle, pulling him hard into his movements, twisting him exactly where he wants him.
They eventually get it right. As right as it can be with a thick layer of denim and an even thicker layer of leather between them. Their cocks slot next to each other, even through those barriers, and the drag has Eddie panting. He’s leaking into his underwear and everything feels so fucking wet because his pants don’t breathe or absorb. So his underwear is doing all of the heavy lifting, which really isn’t enough because everything is getting slick in there.
Maybe it’s a good thing.
“Oh, fuck.” Eddie finally speaks, he finally gives clue to how much he’s enjoying this. He finally moves his arms from above his head and grabs at Steve’s hips. He pulls them against him even though they’re already grinding against each other to the point of near pain, but he pulls Steve into him anyway. And then he shoves his hands into the back pocket of his Levi’s where there’s a lighter and a pack of camels. He tosses them into the living room. He puts his hands back and that’s where they stay, kneading into the muscle of Steve’s perfect ass.
They rock together in deep waves with Steve’s face hidden in Eddie’s neck and Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut. Eddie’s perpetually horny so it really only takes a few minutes until each stroke of denim on leather sends a shock into his guts. That’s when he realises just how close he is to coming and he’s suddenly ashamed again, because he just doesn’t know if that’s the goal to whatever is going on.
He tries to rein himself in, he tries to slow the coil that’s rapidly building in his core, but that mind over matter crap has never really worked with Eddie. He’s hurtling towards the finish line and he has to warn Steve, but he’s terrified of ruining the moment.
If there even is a moment.
As much as he knows that Steve grinding his dick into Eddie’s is anything but platonic, he can’t help but notice that Steve isn’t kissing him. So maybe it’s not a passion thing, but more like a… favour thing? And if that were the case, would it be a favour for Steve or for Eddie? Maybe if Eddie speaks it’ll ruin whatever is happening inside of Steve’s head, whatever he’s thinking about, and it’ll make him… deflate or something.
Eddie gasps as Steve’s fly digs against the underside of his cock, drawing to the tip where he’s sensitive and drooling precum that is not just going to be precum very, very soon.
“Shit! Uh – uh, Steve?”
“Mmm?”
Steve does the thing again, and pleasure zaps through Eddie. His thighs twitch against Steve’s hips that are still moving against his.
“It’s just – I think – If you keep… I don’t know, I don’t know,” he babbles, because he just can’t say ‘I’m about to blow my load’ to Steve. Because he’d hear him.
Steve finally lifts his head from Eddies neck and he looks down on him with heavy eyes so blown out they almost look black. His thrusts become shallower which is so frustrating because Eddie was so close, and now Steve’s movements are keeping him right on the edge, not enough to actually get him there.
“You good?” asks Steve. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No!” Eddie barks, and that’s probably the most embarrassing thing that’s happened yet. He tries to hide his face, but Steve just turns along with him – waiting. He deepens the roll of his hips once more and Eddie is building right back up to where he was a few seconds ago, so he tries again. “I just… Steve. I’m about to… I’m gonna…”
Steve tucks back into Eddie. His lips press against his throat but he doesn’t move them, he doesn’t kiss him. He just presses his lips there and speaks muffled against Eddie’s skin.
“Do it.”
He bites down.
A strangled wail rips from Eddie, and he’s coming inside his pants like a punishment, or a reward, he’s not sure which. He just knows that it hits him like a fucking brick, strong and hard, and he’s shuddering through waves of the most outrageous pleasure he’s ever felt (which is sad, really, because Steve didn’t even technically touch him). He’s convulsing against Steve, and his boxers fill with his cum which is hot and wet and slicks against his skin while Steve still ruts himself against him.
It doesn’t seem to stop either, it just keeps going. His orgasm and his cum, like he hadn’t just jerked himself off that morning. It felt like the first time he came after healing. Dirty and raw and pent up, but better because it wasn’t his own hand that got him there.
Steve’s teeth snap harder into Eddie’s skin and his hips lose their rhythm. A filthy groan rattles Eddie’s eardrums, and from that alone Eddie feels like he could get hard again. Hearing the noise that Steve just made, coming in his jeans like he just did.
Everything goes still – Steve’s body goes slack and his teeth release from Eddie’s skin, and they lay there panting like they ran some kind of marathon instead of just dry humping against each other.
It immediately feels like a fever dream.
Steve is still laying on top of Eddie, and he’s already asking himself if that actually just happened, or if he made it all up. Even as the cum in his boxers is cooling uncomfortably against his softening dick and matting into his pubes like glue.
When Steve’s head finally lifts, Eddie gets a good look at him. His mascara has smudged under his eyes, and there’s red on the tip of his nose where it rubbed against Eddie’s cheek. His lip gloss has smeared sparkles around the border of his lips. He looks completely fucked out. So Eddie laughs.
“What?” Steve says, rolling from Eddie’s body. They scramble up until they’re seated normally in the couch. Steve gropes at his crotch like it’s uncomfortable, which it is. Eddie would know. “Why are you laughing?”
Eddie holds his hand up. “Nothing! Your makeup… it just needs a bit of a touch up.”
“Oh, shit.” Steve wipes under his eyes, just making everything worse.
“No, no, no!” Eddie says, smacking Steve’s hand away from his face. “You’re ruining it. I’ll fix it, just leave it alone for a few minutes, okay?”
“’Kay. Where are you going?” Steve crinkles his brows at Eddie as he stands up.
“I’m gonna change my pants. They’re, uh… too tight.”
“Sure, yeah. Me too.” Steve stands. “Sweats or something?”
“Huh?”
“Sweatpants?” Steve says again. “Are you gonna change into something comfy, or…?”
“Nooo…” Eddie drawls. “Jeans probably. We’re going to that party, right? That’s why we got all dressed up?”
“Oh, yeah. The party,” Steve says, and if Eddie could read people easily, he might think he looks disappointed. But Eddie doesn’t really get social cues, so he’s probably got it all wrong.
Eddie nods and he changes in the bathroom. He examines himself, finds the purple bruise forming on his neck in the shape of Steve’s teeth. He decides not to cover it up, but instead wear it with pride. As a reminder, mostly to himself, that he did not in fact lose his mind and make everything that happened up.
They do go to the party after Eddie fixes their makeup, and it’s fun. They spend the night drinking, and laughing, and dancing.
What they don’t do, is talk about what they did. Steve’s good at acting normal – pretending that nothing happened.
And as confusing as it is, as much as Eddie just doesn’t get it – days passing by without acknowledgment – he takes it that he should probably do the same.
NEXT CHAPTER
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MASTERLIST
SOCIALS
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forwntrx · 9 months
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girls like girls (like boys do)!
♡ - winter x reader | yunjin x reader
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₍ PROIFLES <3 ˗ˏˋTHE IDOL CLUB ˎˊ˗
( THE GCS ! ) " is this is the most random gc to ever exist ? "
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𑁍┊YN'S FRIEND GROUP
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𑁍┊masterlist - y/n’s groupies — yunjin’s haters — chapter one
yeonjun (99' liner); starts the gc after filming tiktoks with everybody in the industry, constantly fighting with y/n, loves his fans the most, SASSY, y/n’s #1 hater
jeongin (01' liner); hates everyone unironically, tzuyu & him might be siblings but the dna results haven’t come in so no one knows lol, says fuck too much, never where he’s suppose to be, gay hater, milf lover #1
tzuyu (99' liner); the most unproblematic member of the gc, y/n’s wife, everyone loves tzuyu bcs why wouldn’t you???, asks the most uncomfortable questions, asks everyone how their days are going, angel
sunghoon (02' liner); y/n’s least favorite (jokes), youngest in the gc & is made fun of bcs of it, lovable idiot, SILLY, gc’s spokesperson, milf lover #2
{also} ryujin (01’ liner); aeri’s girlfriend, shamelessly trying to get yunjin & y/n together, not rlly active in this gc, she’s here tho, done with everyone, milf lover #3 especially aeri’s
{also} yunjin (01’ liner); she makes it into the gc somehow (thirst), jeongin hates her bcs all she does is agree with y/n, y/n’s #1 supporter, SIMP, shameless
𑁍┊YUNJIN’s FRIEND GROUP
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ryujin (01' liner); yunjin's #2 hater after chaewon, y/n's #1 supporter, switches from both gcs, the matchmaker fr, gets her account reported by yuqi on the daily, shits on jyp every chance she gets, loona stan
chaeryeong (01' liner); she needs to stop making corny jokes, snsd brain rot, wishes everyone would shut up sometimes, the cutest tbh, shit talks yunjin in the gc like she's dead, still yunjin's favorite tho
yeji (00' liner); not here for the bs, in love w/ chae tho, holding the braincell in the gc, the funniest tbh, has leader meetings with chaewon over yunjin, scheming on the low, wants to see yunjin happy but careful!
yuqi (99' liner); here to make fun of yunjin thats all, flirts with everyone in the gc, wants to have a 3some with ryu n aeri, shouts her lyrics EVERYWHERE, dumbass #1, encourages yunjin's stupid ideas just to see the world burn, milf lover #4
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𑁍┊a/n: thank you again for all support on this smau!!!! i’m gonna try to get out updates and have a set schedule just because it makes it easier for me :)) 𑁍┊taglist: send me an ask to be put on the list <3 @aeongiies @runawaymazola @wintersgff @winieter @luvjanexx @justme-idle @sewiouslyz @lcv3lies @yerisdumbass @nasyu-kookies @kchwnsgf @jeindall777 @dr-wholehearted @thoughtfulqueenlady @yunalvrrr @juhyunsthirdwife
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electric-rabbits · 3 months
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The telenovela ended today, and it marked me way more than I thought possible. Kelvin and Ramiro, the gay couple, got married- by a trans officiant, surrounded by outcasts, and loved. So loved. But the scene that really got to me was this one- the marriage proposal.
I'm stealing my last description of them because I think it was a good one:
In the show, Ramiro was a working hand who was "raised" by his boss. He never studied, never had any opportunities, and learned from a very young age that his role in this world is to be aggressive and follow commands. He was treated less as a person and more as a rabid dog, and sure acted the part, hurting and killing the people his boss told him to. And then he met Kelvin, an openly gay man who started showing him his worth for way beyond his job and his gun. They hit it off right away, their chemistry is fucking insane, except for one problem: the only thing Ramiro felt like he had in this world was his masculinity, and he felt threatened by his own emotions. He didn't think he was allowed to love, especially not like this.
But then he learned. Kelvin saw him as a person, and he started seeing himself as one as well. He went to school. He started seeing a psychologist. He couldn't bring himself to hurt people anymore. And then he finally confessed his love, and kissed Kelvin in a scene that got my parents talking about them for a week straight- and they were talking about how beautiful it was. It was a gay kiss, an actual kiss, at prime time open television, and everybody I talked to only spoke of how great it was.
When Ramiro stood up against his old boss, he got beat up almost to death. His recovery took months. But he had love. When he confessed his crimes to put his old boss in jail, he had love. And today, at the last chapter, the man escaped and threatened to kill Kelvin, and Ramiro did what he couldnt bring himself to do for months: he killed again. He killed the main villain of the whole story in the name of love. And he went to jail happy.
The reason why I liked this scene so much, though, is because of how much it shows Ramiro's character development. Right before the video starts, Ramiro had told Kelvin he didn't want to date anymore, and Kelvin, looking around, thought he was back at the old days: they were surrounded by people, surrounded by MEN, of course Ramiro wouldn't want to be open about his queerness. Of course a man who had so much internalized homophobia would run away from love because of what others would think.
But then Ramiro shouts. And tells the whole world about their love.
@saltyoaktree guess I owe you 5 bucks
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powderblueblood · 7 days
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BEAUTIFUL!
ronnie ecker recounts the last first day of the worst of her life or i wanted to rewrite beautiful from heathers the musical, hellfire and ice version. warnings: first person narrative (ronnie's pov), swearing, era-typical misogyny, bullying and slurs, mention of eating disorders, everyone's a dick, everyone's kind of gay for lacy doevski. wc: 3.8k
September 1st, 1984. 
First day of the end of your life. It’s hard not to get a little intro-outrospective.
If I was a diary keeping person, which I’m not because I don’t like to leave a paper trail outside my own goddamn academic brilliance, I’d write something like this. 
Dear diary, I believe that I’m a good person–y’know, relatively speaking, if you don’t count that one time I bit that one kid for catcalling me. But, here we are! First day of senior year! And I look around at these kids I’ve known all my life and I ask myself–what happened?
We’re in the hallway, bottlenecking toward the cafeteria. It’s right around lunchtime, so everyone’s getting a real good look at everybody else, categorizing who they hate, who they hate more, who got boobs over the summer. God, do we ever stop slinging shit at each other, even when we think no one’s listening? There’s a constant cacophony in the hallways of Hawkins High.
Freak! Slut! Burnout! Bug-eyes! Poser! Lard-ass!
And no one does anything about it. 
It’s pretty sad, considering where we came from. 
We were so tiny, happy and shiny, playing tag and getting chased.
Freak! Slut! Loser! Shortbus!
Singing and clapping, laughing and napping, baking cookies, eating paste. Especially me. I was crazy for that shit.
Bull-dyke! Stuck-up! Hunchback!
Then we got bigger, that was the trigger, like the Huns invading Rome. “Shit, my bad!” That underclassman I just walked straight into looked terrified. And for good reason.
Welcome to my school, this ain’t no high school. This is the Thunderdome. 
Trailer trash!
For the very first very last time, I crane my head around the swamped hall and try to recall where my new locker is. First star on the right, and I wiggle in my combination and dump my books inside. I take a second, shoving my head inside the cool metal darkness (voluntarily, for once) and mutter, “Hold your breath and count the days, we’re graduating soon–”
“–Christ. College will be paradise, if I’m not dead by June.” 
I crane my neck out. Two lockers up from me, elegant fingers pull open an identical door to mine except hers, of course, already has a vanity mirror hung up inside. She checks her reflection, not like it ever needs checking. One of her faithful little redheads stands beside her, smacking bubblegum so loud it makes my ears pop.  
“You are so melodramatic, it’s crazy.” 
“What was that?”
“Nothing…”
It sucks how the chrysalis of adolescence has made most of us completely obnoxious. I try not to be a sucker for nostalgia, but I can’t help but remember how much easier this was in middle school. Waking up on a weekday didn’t have to be like living in a segment of Creepshow. 
I know, I know, I know, life can be beautiful. No plastic Jesus on my dashboard (or… handlebars, I guess) but I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again… 
Then I get a whole shoulder of dork, right to the face. Bubblegum snaps between snorts, I can see that he’s been shoved my way. Yeah, we could be beautiful…
“Ow!”
Just not today. “Hey, are you okay?”
This Jansport sporting asshole twists his face up right in mine. “Get away, nerd!” Jesus Christ.
The choir of angels go on–I’m just trying to make it to the cafeteria and grab a fucking chicken pot pie. I’m starving, and I could use a little less soundtrack.
Freak! Slut! Cripple! Homo! Homo! Homo! 
But, listen. It’s not a total nightmare. There’s light at the end of the tunnel. Things will get better soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke or Brown–
–or, NYU, if we’re being really serious. 
“Wake from this coma, take my diploma–” God. This chick’s voice seems to cut through the din of the hallway like a bell, “Then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy covered walls and smoky French cafes…”
“Sooo uber pretentious!”
“Watch it, freak!” I don’t even need to turn around to figure out who that’s directed at. But, I’m a little preoccupied with singing my own tune, here! Muscling through to the lunch line, grabbing a tray while I–
“–fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze. Hey, Ronnie!” 
Dude, shut up! I swing around, trying to spot the owner of that very different, very familiar dulcet tone when some duckbill hat wearing dickwad upends my lunch tray. Dressed in Hawkins Tiger green and gold, this is one of many prize dickwads. 
Bear with me, I’m trying to place him.
“Ooops.”
Andy Sweeney. Indiana’s worst point guard… “whose true talent lies in being a huge dick.”
Did I mention before about that lack of filter between my brain and my mouth? I patch it up pretty good most of the time, but sometimes…
“What did you say to me, skank?” Andy demands of me all darkly and shit. It’s scary. Even if I’ve got a foot and a half on him.
“Aaah!” I recoil, looking at his flexing fists, “Nothing.”
I back up from him, way way up, leaving my mess of a lunch tray on the ground. Even though that makes me feel shitty–when did I become the guy who left stuff for the already harangued janitorial staff to clean up? 
We were kind before; we can be kind once more… 
Head down. Stalk through. Find the Hellfire table. But, not before someone chucks me lightly on the arm. 
“Agh!” I holler before I register him. I am totally on edge. “Hey, Eddie.”
“Hey,” he grins in a sardonic way that says I cannot believe we’re putting ourselves through this again. 
Eddie Munson. My best friend since pre-pube. The closest thing I’ll ever have to a brother, unless Granny finally lets me get that gecko I’ve always wanted. I’m almost eighteen, for Chrissake, I should be allowed. 
Anyway, Eddie rocks. We know this. Look at him. 
“We still on for movie night?” he asks.
I beam. Our first day of school comedown tradition. “Shit yeah, you’re on Jiffy Pop detail.”
Eddie’s got a little pep in his step and it jangles his wallet chain. Dude can’t help but attract attention– almost all of it unwanted. “I rented Evil Dead.”
“Hohoho, again? Wait, don’t you have it memorized by now?”
“What can I say?” Before I can even warn him, Eddie’s backstepping straight into– “I’m a sucker for a gory ending.” 
“Eddie Munson, king of the trailer park! What, you didn’t qualify for free lunches this year?”
A hand comes down hard on the age-old tin lunchbox Eddie’s carrying. The clatter it makes against the lino makes me want to cover my ears and hide, especially when I see Eddie’s face. Total resignation. It’s humiliating. 
This guy?
Tommy Hagan. He’s the smartest guy on the basketball team, which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.
“Too goddamn easy, man!” he guffaws, and I would try to figure out what farm animal he most resembles, but apparently I’m too busy–
“Hey! Pick that up! Right now!” –being the hero.
“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?” Tommy also tries to tower over me, but I’ve got a decent number of inches on him too. 
My cheeks blaze.
“Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend. You’re a high school has-been waiting to happen. Tell me, Tommy, do you actually have a personality outside of sticking your nose right up Steve Harrington’s ass?”
Tommy gets closer and closer. So close that I can see the nose hair move as he huffs through his freckly nostrils. His finger points right between my eyebrows.
“… you have a zit right there.”
Cue rapturous laughter from the peanut gallery. 
Dear diary…
Why do they hate me? Why don’t I fight back? Why do I act like such a creep? Why won’t he date me? Why did I hit him? Why do I cry myself to sleep? 
Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me!
Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope here! Something to live for!
The doors of the cafeteria burst open and Tommy’s attention is thankfully wrenched away from me. Everyone’s attention is wrenched away from me. Because we’ve all been waiting for this.
They enter the caf in a solid formation, so solid that people part for them. Some gazing, some gawping, some glaring. The name calling ceases, the bullying pauses. 
This is the royal court. They float above it all. 
Tina Burton, head cheerleader. Her dad is loaded. He sells engagement rings. 
Heather Holloway, runs the yearbook. Badly. No discernible personality, but her mom did pay for implants. 
Even the lessers are notorious. Carol Perkins has been having sex since, like, seventh grade. Cass Finnigan’s been pretending to save it for Jesus but giving a backdoor key to whoever buys her peach schnapps. Nicole Summers invented three new slurs last year alone. 
And finally, Lacy Doevski. 
The Almighty. 
She is a mythic bitch. 
These girls, they’re solid Teflon. Never bothered. Never harassed– 
“I would give anything to be like that.”
And I know I don’t sit in that thought alone. Glancing around the tables, the coagulation of cliques, I can hear the desire coming from my classmates. 
I’d like to be their boyfriend. If I sat at their table, guys would notice me. I’d like them to be nicer. 
“What’s the over-under on one of those harpies getting kidnapped, taken to some abandoned warehouse to be photographed naked and left for the rats?” Eddie mutters into my ear as we slam ourselves down at our regular table. 
I roll my freakin’ eyes. “I told you that your Barb Holland theory was insane.”
Eddie shrugs, flipping open his recovered lunchbox. “Just sayin’... They never found a body. Anyway, my money's on the ice queen. If everything they're sayin' about her dad is true, she is prime ransom material.”
“You are so unnecessarily twisted.” But my eyes are still following the crown jewels. I notice that Lacy, Tina and Heather all rise to the girl’s room immediately after they finish their minimal lunch. 
I interrupt Eddie and Gareth’s too-intense-for-lunchtime debate about the morality of posthumously publishing The Silmarillion. “I have to take a leak.” 
As I gently push the door of the bathroom open, I can see Tina standing nervously at an open stall door. Heather is ralphing like her life depends on it. The reptilian arch of Lacy Doevski is bent towards the mirror, touching up her lipstick. 
“Grow up, Heather,” Lacy says in this voice that could weirdly be misconstrued as concerned,  “Bulimia is so sophmoronic.” 
Tina grimaces. “Maybe you should see a doctor, Heather.”
From inside the stall, Heather’s voice echos. “Yeah, Heather– I mean, Tina. Maybe I should.” 
I’m about to open my mouth, say something about ginger ale or peppermint tea, but Mrs O’Donnell enters behind me. I dive into a nearby stall, pretty confident I haven’t been spotted. But, I leave just enough of a crack in the door to watch everything that unfolds out there.
“Ah, I should have known–”
Heather vomits again. Damn, how can she pull trig so much on so little?
“–the witches from Macbeth always travel in a trio.” Her heels click over the cracked, yellowing tile, but the way Lacy turns from the mirror gives even O’Donnell pause. “Perhaps you didn’t hear the bell over all the vomiting. You’re late for class.”
Hey. Idea. I dig around in my backpack and scribble on a piece of paper, leaning against the bathroom door.
“Heather wasn’t feeling well.” Lacy says. Again, confusing enough to sound kind! “We’re helping her.”
O’Donnell chuckles all airly. Like she’s any match for her. “Not without a hall pass, you’re not. Week’s detention.”
That’s my cue. I scurry out of the stall, presenting O’Donnell with–
“Um, actually, Mrs O’Donnell, all four of us are out on a hall pass.” I gulp and glance at Heather, who’s finally hauled herself off her knees. “Yearbook committee.”
It’s super hard to breathe as O’Donnell inspects my handiwork. It hits me that this could go horribly, horribly wrong, and I can feel Lacy’s eyes boring into a hot spot on the back of my head.
O’Donnell arches her eyebrow. “I see you’re all listed. Hurry up and get where you’re going.”
She goes to hand the note back to me, but Lacy intercepts. Once the coast is clear, she takes her time looking it over. 
“This is an excellent forgery,” she tells me. A drop of freezing sweat runs down my back. “Who are you?”
“Uh, Ronnie– Veronica Ecker,” I stumble. “We were lab partners last year?”
Lacy’s eyes narrow. She doesn’t remember taking the lead on coolly dissecting a frog in front of me, it seems.
“Doesn’t matter. I crave a boon.”
She holds her glare on me. Jesus, why do I feel like I’m about to have my throat slit? “What boon?”
“Um. Let me sit at your lunch table. Just once. No talking necessary. If people think that you guys tolerate me, then they’ll leave me alone…”
What? It worked for Nancy Wheeler. Even if she had to boink Steve Harrington to do it, but I can't quite stretch that far.
The girls all chorus in laughter at me. Oof. 
“Before you answer, I can also do report cards, permission slips and absence notes.” Dude, I cannot tell you where this boost of bravery (or foolhardiness) is coming from.
“How about prescriptions?” Heather asks.
“Shut up, Heather,” Lacy cuts. 
“Sorry, Lacy.”
Then, she zeroes in on me. Takes slow steps toward me, just like Tommy Hagan did. But her stare is tearing strips right through me. I even freaking hunch as she gets closer.
“For a greasy little nobody,” Lacy says, her voice dropping low so I have to strain to hear her, “you do have good bone structure.”
Tina and Heather must already be tuned into this Lacy-only frequency.
“And a proportional body,” Tina adds. “If someone didn’t catch you during a basket toss, you’d probably only kind of fracture your spine. That’s very important. 
“Of course, you could stand to de-hobo your wardrobe.” Heather goes so far as to flick the flappy pocket on the front of my overalls. “Salvation Army much?”
“And ya know, ya know, ya know…” the shiniest jewel in the crown hums, tapping her lipstick tube against her cheek, “This could be beautiful.” Her painted fingers pinch my chin and turn it down toward her–because I’m fucking tall. “Mascara, maybe some lipgloss and we’re on our way. Get this girl some blush– and Heather, I need your brush. Let’s make her beautiful.”
A manic looking Tina produces a vanity bag out of absolutely nowhere. “Let’s make her beautiful…”
“Let’s make her beautiful?” Heather snarks, but Lacy shoves a hand in her face. 
Her eyes turn on me again. Dark and sparkly and… and… smiling. At me. “Okay?”
“Okay!”
Then, whaddaya know, smash cut, it’s the next freaking day. I don’t know how that works, but I don’t see another goddamn narrator so pipe down. 
The halls are their usual shitshow– Billy Hargrove shoves the new Hellfire freshman, Gareth, into a locker. Eddie hauls him up by the collar and they run headlong into a gaggle of girls, who all scream because every nerd that plays a fantasy game is contagious. 
“Don’t you dare touch me!”
“Get away, pervert!”
“What did I ever do to them?” Gareth yelps, exasperated. Hard not to feel bad for the kid.
But Eddie’s sage about it, even though he knows it’s as unfair as I do. “You’ll get used to it, freshman.”
“No, dude!” Gareth pushes back, verging on a panic attack, “Who could survive this! I can’t escape this–I think I’m dying!”
O’Donnell, hot on the tardy check, appears behind the both of ‘em. “Who’s that with Lacy?”
“Damn. Someone got a welfare increase,” Nicole Summers hatefully snarls.
“Who’s the babe?” says Andy Sweeney.
But Eddie Munson, oh-ho, Eddie Munson settles his eyes into slits. Anytime, any place, he’d know–
“Veronica?!”
“Veronica?” Cass and Carol caw.
“Veronica?” Steve and Tommy mimic. 
And Lacy Doevski… she looks to her dutiful right, and smirks. “Veronica?”
And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful! 
My whole life, I haven’t had a choice but to be one of the boys. My best friend’s a boy. I’m in a band with all boys. I’m surrounded by boys all the time who make gross boy jokes and do stupid boy shit. Nobody, not even my Granny, even though she fucking rules, ever asked me if… if I wanted to put on a skirt and get my goddamned nails painted. And it’s not as if I mind being on the more masculine side of things but, shit, is it so wrong to want something? Even if I believed what I was pretty much dragged up to believe, by all my friends and the world at large around me–that being a chick was totally dumb. Couldn’t I try it on?
You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way! 
Lacy beckoned me into her walk-in closet, which was about as big as my bedroom and smelled of gardenia, and put me in a pleated skirt set that she said didn’t fit her temperament anymore. ‘But it’d work for a novice.’
Ask me how it feels, lookin’ like hell on wheels–
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Eddie seethes as I pass, carried on the cloud of Lacy’s perfume.
‘My god, it’s beautiful!’ I’d said, spinning around in the stupid, flippy skirt. 
“Those bobbleheads totally morphed her!”
‘I might be beautiful!’ I mumbled, fingering the diamond studs she put in my ears that she made Heather pierce.
“She looks like–like–” Gareth chokes.
And when you’re beautiful…
“A girl!”
… it’s a beautiful fuckin’ day!
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Now, at first, I think I’m fucking flatlining, expecting to wake up with goddamn tubes down my throat and shit– but I’m not. I’m in my regular old bed, with my regular old alarm clock screaming at me. I smash my hand down on it and jerk up, out of the covers.
First place I go is my wardrobe. 
I feel the physical sensation of my heart dropping like a lead kite when I flick through my old thrift store samesies and Granny Ecker hand-me-downs to find no such minty plaid skirt set. 
Just a dream. 
Which is such a bullshit conceit. Sorry to break it to you. 
I admit defeat and pull on my overalls, scrunching my ballcap over my head and muscle out the door. I’m already late, for me. 
But–then, there’s an apparition hovering at my mailbox. 
Someone who excitedly takes notice and waves when she catches me staring, arm stretching out of her fur-trimmed peacoat–which is looking a tiny touch shabbier than it used to these days. 
“Happy early acceptance day, asshole!” Lacy Doevski sing-songs. Sing-songs. Which is… something I have to readjust to, given the liminal version of her I just experienced.
“Oh.. jeez,” I mutter, feeling dazed still, “I forgot that was today.”
Lacy’s brow gets all pinchy. “You okay? You look like steamed dogshit.”
“Thank you so much,” I drawl sarcastically, “It’s nothing, I slept funky. Where’s Eddie?”
Lacy shifts in herself a little, tucking hair behind her ears and avoiding my eyes. “How should I know?” Right. That. The daylight version of this little tryst they pretend they’re not having. Honestly, if the two of them would just bang it out– well, maybe things might be worse off and this weird little platonic ménage à trois of ours would be totally ruined forever, but at least I’d have to stop tiptoeing around them. “Come on, are you gonna open it or what?”
Oh, right. There’s a whole gravity of a situation supposed to be happening here.
I kind of feel the saliva gathering at the hinges in my jaw, you know the way you do when you’re about to puke your guts up? But then, I remember. Bulimia is so sophmoronic. 
I yank open that rusty mailbox and a thick, thick envelope with a New York University imprint sits inside. I yank it out.
Lacy stares at me like I’m the dude holding the thing the Ten Commandments were written on. 
I’m not drawing this shit out. I am not teasing myself, dude, you couldn’t pay me to–savagely, I rip the envelope open, which makes Lacy cringe. She probably has a little knife for these sorts of things, knowing her. 
Dear Veronica,
Congratulations! I am delighted to inform you…
“Holy fucking shit.”
“Well…?”
I thrust that hot, heavy paper right into that pretty girl’s face. “Full. Goddamned. Ride.” 
Lacy gasps, grasping the letter so hard it leaves claw marks. Her eyes shake back and forth, reading and re-reading the whole acceptance ream. It’s weird, and I know it’s weird, but I’m standing there, looking at her and trying to make her make sense with the Lacy that showed up in my dream. That girl existed, and she was mystifying, in a horrifying way. A total reign of ice cold terror. But now, I’m staring at Lacy, who’s all short, weird angles and specific enthusiasm and… it’s hard to see how those two girls ever lived in the same body. 
She’s a little Whitman. She’s got those multitudes. And, actually, so do I.
“I knew it!” Lacy hisses, “And I want you to know that I’m not at all bitter. While I should be celebrating early acceptance with you, I’m glad–”
I grin at her. “You’re a little bitter.”
“Fine, I’m a little bitter, but I’m mostly excited. New York City, Ron! That’s transformative!”
“Yeah… speaking of. Lacy?”
“Yes?”
Dreams are meant to be prophetic and shit, right?
“Doyouwannagivemeamakeover?”
She cocks her head at me. She still hasn’t let go of that acceptance letter yet. “What?”
“Do you.” I take the envelope from her hands. I know she’s capable of identity theft. “Want to give me. A makeover.”
“Huh?” Her fingers stay curled around imaginary paper. Oh, my god.
“You heard me! And I hate repeating myself!” I flail a little. I get like that, quick to bug sometimes. “Look, you said it, New York is gonna be… transformative. I’m going to be a freaking lawyer, dude, fingers crossed, all going well.”
Lacy nods, not a hair out of place, with perfect confidence,“You are.”
“And when was the last time you saw a lawyer wearing fuckin’ overalls?! Huh? The people vs Howdy Doody?”
“I like your overalls.” I know she’s saying this because it’s the right thing to say, and she’s been practicing doing that really hard. She also might like them now, after repeated exposure, in a Stockholm syndrome sort of way. 
“But they don’t scream esquire,” I impress upon her. And it’s true. I truly do believe that I can’t set foot in New York fucking City looking like I just fell off the back of a turnip truck–nor do I want to. 
It takes a big fat beat, but her face changes. Lacy looks almost dastardly–dark, sparkling eyes like Lacy from the dream. She looks me right over, making the calculations of how to reupholster tragically unfashionable me in her mind. And then she arches her eyebrow.
“Well, remember… you asked, Veronica.”
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