#i’m gonna dress so queer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

steddielations · 5 months

Text

Eddie’s queer awakening Part 2 | Part 1

Steve doesn’t know what else to do to make Eddie realize he likes him. Never in his life has he had to work this hard at winning someone over. Never.

Even with Nancy in high school, there was always a hint that she wanted him to chase her, which made it worthwhile. Sometimes, Eddie will do something that makes Steve sure he feels the same, flirting back. Then Eddie will do something that makes Steve not so sure, laughing it off.

Steve doesn’t like resorting to bullshit queer stereotypes because he doesn’t exactly fit them either, but Eddie looks like those rugged guys on his posters and album covers. Sometimes it feels like a masculinity performance worthy of King Steve, but sometimes it feels genuine.

Eddie’s not dressing like Bowie, but he prances around on cafeteria tables yelling about sodomy and he’s never had a girlfriend that Steve knows of. He could like both, same as Steve, of course. Or it could be nothing, of course. Steve’s just putting all these moves on a straight boy, about to get his heart broken again.

Robin’s given him countless pep talks, assuring him that he’s right about Eddie when he starts to doubt it. “You sniffed Vickie out just from her VHS returns. If anyone has a functional queer detector here, it’s you. Trust it.”

“What if I ask him out and he rejects me?” Steve fully understands Robin’s worries now, it’s not the same as getting shot down by a girl. “I’ve got enough rumors about me already.” They all wanted to say it in high school, calling Steve a pretty boy in tight pants that spent too much time in the mirror.

Tommy used to shoot them all down. Now he’s not by Steve’s side, snarling at anyone who suggests it. Which was mostly just Tommy trying to convince himself that everything they did under the covers at sleepovers was “just guy stuff”, and he convinced Steve too. To the point where Steve hadn’t even considered any different until a few months ago when he told Robin and— yeah, that was an eventful conversation. The first time he stumbled across the word bisexual— from a Bowie interview in one of Robin’s magazines— it felt like something clicked into place.

“I don’t think Eddie’s the type to out anyone, either way.” Robin’s right. She’s not always right, everything would be easier if she was, but she’s right about that.

“I keep having to pretend to like his shitty weed to get him to come over. Not even the yawn and stretch move worked on him. Y’know, this,” Steve demonstrates, stretching an arm above his head and then draping it over Robin’s shoulder. She shrugs him off with a fake gag. “I kept looking at his lips and I thought we were gonna kiss, but he laughed and poked me in the ribs and called me dude.”

Robin listens to all his boy troubles and then they come up with a plan. Steve decides he’s going to come out to Eddie, just put it out there that he likes guys. In a totally platonic way and hopefully that gets the ball rolling the other way, where he tells Eddie he likes one guy in particular and hopes all his Romeo efforts don’t blow up in his face.

So he goes for it. Eddie strolls into Family Video and picks out a movie that Steve’s actually heard of for once. It’s easy for Steve to throw him a smile and invite himself over. “You know this is the closest thing to a romance movie you’ve picked? No way I’m letting you watch this alone, somebody’s gotta hold your hand through the sad ending, looks like it’s gonna be me.”

Several emotions fly across Eddie’s face, landing on overwhelmed disbelief. “I don’t get it, man. How do you not have a girlfriend? You’d be so easy to fall in love with. Hell, I feel like you've made me fall halfway in love with you already. If I was a girl, I’d date the shit out of you.”

It looks like Eddie wants to clap a hand over his mouth as soon as the words leave it.

Steve watches him carefully, trying to think clearly over his heart pounding in his chest because Eddie just said he loves him, kind of. This is it. “Would you still date me as a guy?”

Eddie’s nervous hands jingle with chain bracelets as they tug his hair and hide his face. “You mean, objectively? As a guy would I date another guy? I mean, could I want that? I hadn’t really considered that option until now. Uh. Shit. Wow, this is-”

“Because I would, you know,” Steve jumps to say, as earnestly as he can, needing Eddie to finally know. How could he not know? This is it. Steve didn’t come all this way just to tap out at the finish line. He goes for it. “I’d date you as a guy, Eddie. I’d date the shit out of you, too, just like you are.”

Eddie’s face is flushed now, his eyes wide and swimming with both questions and realizations. Steve snaps out of it for a second, looking around to see the store is thankfully empty, Robin’s still on her break, but this isn’t the place for this conversation.

“Wanna talk about it over the movie tonight?” He offers.

It moors Eddie, he relaxes more and Steve hopes he’s not imagining the faint hint of a smile. “Yeah, that’s— yeah, talk. I can do that.”

“Okay, it’s a date. See you then.” Steve hands over the tape, their fingers brushing and making warmth flutter all through him. He watches Eddie halfway trip out the door, running into it once and pulling on it three times before pushing it open.

Steve can’t stop grinning, thinking about later, determined to tell Eddie he’s already in love with him too.

#it’s hard work being eddie’s queer awakening but somebody’s gotta do it - steve #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #rueswriting #mp

2K notes · View notes

reasonsforhope · 5 months

Text

"Shopping for clothes is already intimidating. There are so many options and styles to consider, as well as factors like sustainability and ethics.

But for people in fat, disabled, or queer and gender-nonconforming bodies, it’s even more arduous.

Nico Herzetty, Emma K. Clark, and Paul Herzetty wondered: What if there was a way people could shop — not necessarily by color or size — but by measurements, materials, and ethics?

So they set off to create their website: Phoria.

Here, shoppers can set up a free profile, add their body measurements (and “typical fit challenges”) and peruse over 270 brands. Once these data points are entered, users can personalize their pages with “saved,” “recommended,” or “hidden” brands.

Pages can be totally private, or shared with the community to connect over styles and brands.

Aside from fit, brands in the Phoria database (which claims to be “the largest database of plus-friendly brands”) can also be filtered as “gender-neutral,” “woman-run,” “small business,” or “natural fibers.” Users can also filter for price, preferred styles, and more.

Pictured: A screenshot of the "Fit Challenges" feature on a Phoria user's profile.

Some brands include popular names like Athleta, Levi’s, and Patagonia. Others are small businesses, like Beefcake Swimwear, or Hey Peach.

“For so many people, it feels too damn hard to find and keep clothing that fits in all the ways that really matter. So we’re doing something about it,” the Phoria website reads.

“Unlike most online shopping experiences, we center the needs of plus-size women, nonbinary, and trans people, and prioritize supporting clothing brands focused on sustainability, ethics, and inclusion.” ...

That team — made up of Clark, and Nico and Paul Herzetty — calls themselves “fat, disabled, and very, very queer.”

“These are some of the main ways we identify, and they’re qualities that have directly impacted our ability to get dressed every day in a way that feels good,” the Phoria team introduces themselves on the website.

Pictured: A screenshot of Phoria's plus-size clothing brand database.

In addition to catering the user experience to women, non-binary, and trans people, Phoria is also a benefit corporation, or a B corp.

“We’ve legally required ourselves to consider the interests of all our stakeholders — customers, employees, the planet, and our shareholders,” the Phoria website explains.

“Our specific public benefit purpose is to reduce people’s dependence on buying mass-produced items made in unsustainable ways and to use human-centered business models to boldly challenge economic systems of inequity.”

Right now, in the early stages of the company’s business, it doesn’t make any money.

“We’re focused on building something that genuinely solves plus-size people’s challenges around clothes shopping and supports smaller and more sustainable brands,” Phoria’s website states.

So, spreading the word seems to be of utmost importance...

Additionally, TikTok creators @couplagoofs (a queer couple named Morgan and Phoebe), recently shared a video in which they discovered Phoria. They met the website’s creators at a fat liberation event in their city and were introduced to the tool.

Quickly, commenters responded with gratitude and excitement.

“It is so disappointing to sort through pages of plus size clothes that aren’t even plus size,” a TikTok user commented. “This is gonna be such a good tool!”

Some even shared emotional responses, speaking to the need at the heart of Phoria’s mission.

“I’m… gonna cry,” another commenter wrote. “I’ve needed this my whole life.”"

-via Goodgoodgood, November 20, 2023

#clothing #plus size #size inclusive fashion #body positive #fashion #slow fashion #style #gender affirming #trans inclusive #gender euphoria #disabled #lgbtq #gender nonconforming #small business #ethical fashion #ethical business #fatshion #fat positive #body positvity

887 notes · View notes

elliemontana · 3 months

Text

Ruin the friendship.

Ellie Williams x Female reader

Summary: Ellie and you are best friends since you were teenagers. You never kept a single secret from her, and you have “helped” each other out to get the girls you’ve been interested in… but she has been lying to you. So, one day, you guys get stoned, and she blackmails you to fuck her. Could you ruin the friendship?

WARNINGS: dom¡ reader x sub¡ Ellie, strap mention, weed usage, oral, dirty talk, fingering, begging, degrading (slut, whore), edging, pet names (good girl, princess).

———————————————————————

Ellie and you are best friends since you guys were 13 years old. You met in school and immediately clicked once you found out you were both into soccer and started practicing together.

It has never been a secret that you like girls, you told Ellie about your first kiss story the second day you met. And she also confessed you that she has always been into girls. Being queer is one of your favorite topics to talk about.

Ellie has always had game, and also you. You usually help each other out to get girls. If a cutie catches your eye, you immediately tell Ellie about it, you can’t keep your mouth shut around her, and she’s always happy to help you grab the courage to talk to them, and viceversa.

Today is gonna be a good day. It’s Saturday, and both of you were invited to the quarterback’s birthday party at 9 pm.

You check the hour in your phone. It’s 7:30. “Fuck. I’m gonna be late.” - you mutter. You’re wearing pijamas, because you’ve been laying in bed all day, watching tiktoks, and wasting your time.

But you have to pick Ellie up. You’re late.

You quickly dress up, putting on your black worn out jeans, black converse, black T- shirt and a Leather jacket. Full black is never a crime.

You pick up your keys and rush out of home, not saying goodbye to your parents.

You get inside your car and speed up to get to Ellie’s house, so you decide to call her.

“Waddup els? You ready? I’m on my way.” - you say as soon as she picks up.

“You have to be kidding me. I forgot.” - She mutters through the phone, with a low tone and a sleepy voice.

You frown.

“What the fuck Ellie. Are you sleeping or something? Get the fuck up. I’m literally 4 blocks away.”

“Shit. Wait.” - She says, and like that, she hangs up. She always does that.

You throw your phone in your backseat, and arrive to her place.

You get out of the car, and knock on her door, loudly.

“Ellie!!!!” - You yell.

“I’m coming!” - She yells back from her window.

So you wait, until she’s ready, right outside her door.

And just like that, after waiting for 15 fucking minutes, she opens the door.

“Hello there.” - She says, smirking. She’s wearing a green flannel, blue jeans and a black beanie.

“You made me wait too much, I thought we’d agree you’d be ready by 8 pm. But let’s go.” - You say and she nods, following you as you hop in the car.

You start driving and look at her again. She never fails to look amazing. She has this weird ass smile and look in her face. But she looks pretty cute.

“You look good.” - You compliment your friend.

“And you look like shit.” - She says back and laugh.

“Can you stop messing with me for one second, Ellie?” - You say, as you roll your eyes.

“No. How could I even do that? Besides…admit that I look better than you right now. I’m gonna get all the bitches for sure.” - She says, with a cocky smile on her face.

“Bye.” - You reply. “Bet I’ll get more girls than you but okay…”

She rolls her eyes. “We’ll see.” - She says and keeps looking at you.

She has always thought you were pretty attractive though. She has always liked the way your lips form a smile, and your glances, and your style, and your beautiful eyes, and your hands…even more when you guys are playing video-games…and the way you’re all focused, and get pissed when you lose. She loves that.

She’s a total tease, and loves to mess up with your mood, just for fun…because she’s your best friend.

She looks at you while your eyes are focused on the road. Her eyes travel to your hands, and how they squeeze the wheel. She bites her lip. She can’t help but squeeze her thighs. She imagines the things those hands do to other girls.

And suddenly she’s frowning.

Damn…why is she thinking about her best friend like this?

“You good? You’re too quiet.” - You say and that makes her flinch out of her thoughts.

“Yeah yeah. Are we almost there?” - She asks, as she clears her throat.

“Mhmm.” - You say.

You see all these random people getting inside of the birthday boy’s big house and you park somewhere near the house.

“C’mon els.” - You tell her and she walks with you.

The place is too crowded. There’s too many people, and they’re already drinking like there’s no tomorrow. The whole place smells like smoke and weed.

“God…I hope I can smoke some weed today.” - She says loudly, but you can still her through the music.

“Yeah? You brought some?” - I ask her.

“No. But I might know someone that has that.” - She says and winks.

This is gonna be fun.

———————————————————————-

The party keeps on going. You don’t know what time it is, but you’ve had a few drinks and you don’t care.

You and Ellie have been dancing together the whole night, jumping around, and laughing.

“Fuckkkkkkkkk….” - She says. “I’m having so much fun right now.” - She confesses, laughing.

“Me too!!” -You say smiling. “We haven’t even been on the pretty girls around.” - I joke.

She stops smiling.

“Yeah. Right.” - She says.

Suddenly, I see a pretty girl, looking at me. She’s drinking, and dancing with her friends, but she’s smirking at me. She’s wearing a tiny little black dress that reveals a little, and leaves a lot to the imagination.

Ellie makes me come back to reality.

“What are you looking at?” - She says, standing in-front of me with her arms crossed.

“That girl is cute, ain’t she?” - I say, pointing at her and she waved at us.

Ellie rolls her eyes.

“No, she’s not.” - She blurts out. She’s drunk.

“Oh c’mon Ellie! She’s so our type.” -You tell her, expecting a smile or a laugh from her but she just stays serious.

“Not my type.” - She says, grabs my hand and starts dragging me to the kitchen.

“Um…since when are you not into hot fems…” - You say, weirded out.

She ignores your comment, and takes a little bag out of her pocket.

Joints.

“Holy fuck. When did you get that?” - I ask her in surprise. You were next to her the entire time….Maybe she bought them when she went to the bathroom.

“Don’t ask. Want some?” - She says, and takes a puff out, as she puts the little bag in her pocket.

“Yeah.” - I say and try to grab the joint out of her hand, but she grabs my wrist tightly.

“No. Not here.” - She says, too serious. Her eye contact is too fucking intense.

“Well…where then?” - I ask. “We’re literally in somebody else’s house right now.”

She doesn’t say a word and grabs your wrist to drag you somewhere again.

“What the-“

“Shut up.” - She says, and takes me to somebody’s dorm room in the house.

“Um…” - You say, and she lets you go to close the door behind you.

“Wanna smoke with you. But not in-front of everyone.” - She says as she sits on the bed and you sit on a chair, that is close by the bed.

“Come closer.” - She says, and takes the lighter out of her pocket to light the cigarette.

You get up and walk towards her to sit next to her as she takes the first hit. She looks like she’s really enjoying it, inhaling the substance and looking directly in your eyes while she exhales it.

“May I?” - You say, putting your hand on her hand, to take the joint.

“Mhm.” - She says, and you take it out of her mouth, and inhale. She’s looking at how you take your time smoking it.

“Why are you so serious Ellie?” - You ask her. “You mad or something?”

You feel certain tension between you two. Something you haven’t felt. Ever.

-“No. ‘m not.” - She says as she looks at your hand, offering the joint back to her. “Why would I be mad?” - She says, and inhales.

“Um…I don’t know. You tell me. Have I done something wrong?” - You ask, concerned. You care about her. “Was it because I rushed you to be ready when I picked you up?”

“No.” - Is all she says.

You look down. She’s definitely acting fucking weird.

“Tell me Ellie.”

“No. I’m good.” - She hums.

“Was it…because I had more game than you today?” - You smirk, remembering the cute girl that was looking at you and expecting her to react somehow. But she doesn’t.

“Don’t bring that shit up.” - she says.

“Oh so it’s that…” - You say, and take a hit.

She stays quiet.

“Talk Ellie. Fucking talk.” - You say, now getting a little bit annoyed.

“Yeah. It’s about her.” - She says, making eye contact with you the entire time.

“Fuck…you like her or something? Ellie, I would never get in between you an-

“I don’t want her looking at you.” -She cuts you off.

What.

“Um.” That caught you off guard. “I mean…is she mean? Or is she a bad person? You’ve never been worried about who I mess around with…” - You say and she chuckles.

But that little laugh sounds sassy as fuck.

“I just don’t want her around you.” - She confesses.

Deep inside she feels like she’s saying too much, but she doesn’t really care anymore. She admits to herself that she has been swallowing her jealousy when you bring a girl into the conversations. She’s been trying to “help” you, while she threatens the girls you like, only for them not to call you back, or show up in the dates.

She’s been trying to fucking cockblock you, and you have no fucking idea why every girl you flirt with has been ignoring you after having sex.

“She might just be like all the girls you know?” She says, smirking. “And leave you waiting.”

That hurts your ego.

“Shut the fuck up.” - You say, a little pissed.

“You should listen to me, and stop fucking with all these girls, if they’re gonna keep leaving.” - She says, hiding her true intentions with you.

“You’re a fucking bitch for bringing this up. They like me!” - You reply.

“Do they?…” - She pauses. “Maybe you just don’t fuck them good enough.”

Oh.

“The fuck did you just say?” - You say. You’re mad and that has her smirking like crazy. She’s playing with you, and you have no fucking idea.

“You heard me angel.”

That makes your head ring.

“Maybe you just don’t fuck them good enough. Your stroke game is weak? Maybe you don’t have them squirming beneath you like you should, and that’s why they go…” - She teases.

You cross your arms.

“Fuck you. I fuck them real good.” - You say and that makes her clench her fists.

She doesn’t like the thought of you fucking another girl. Making them squirt all over your strap, making them scream your name in pleasure. She swallows her feelings and says:

“Talk your talk. But I’ve heard them talk.” She lies. “Poor you, thinking you actually made them cum.”

“Fucking shut up.” - You say.

“Or what?” - She replies, and smirks.

Oh my god. She’s insane.

If she wasn’t your best friend, you’d probably be fucking her dumb like a slut right now, and proving her wrong. But she doesn’t mean it like that…Does she?

I mean, She’s fucking hot, but she’s not really your type….

Masc lesbian? Dominant in bed? A fucking tease?

Nah…you like pretty, bratty, submissive girls.

You flinch when you feel her hand on your thigh, and you look at her tattooed arm, and how she starts tracing circles with her thumb on it.

Fuck.

Why did that make your fucking pussy throb?

How could you fuck her? You could never ruin such a beautiful friendship like this, could you?

“What are you doing?” - you blurt out. You can’t think straight. Your best friend is literally touching your leg right now.

“I don’t know. What am I doing?” - She teases, with her hand still on your thigh.

“Ellie…” You start saying but she cuts you off.

“You know what? Maybe you should just..,get your reputation back, you know?” - She says and you raise your eyebrow.

“What?” - You say, truly confused.

“Yeah…you know…maybe I could tell them you can actually fuck.” - She says looking at her own hand on your thigh now, as she brings it closer to your crotch.

The way she’s touching you has your pussy clenching. And you hate it.

Or do you?

“Yeah…you should tell them that…” - You hiss.

“Mhm..” - She says. “But what will I get in return?”

Woah.

“Uh…what? What do you mean by that Ellie?” - You say, when I’m the back of your head, and by the way she’s touching you, you know what she wants.

“Fuck me.” That’s it for you. “Fuck me good, and I’ll tell everyone that talks shit about you that you’re a god in bed.”

She’s fucking lying. Everyone says you’re good in bed, but she just needs you so bad. And she knows your ego is easy to hurt. She’s gonna get what she wants.

“You’re…you’re out of your fucking mind Ellie.” - You say, but then you feel her hand on your crotch. Touching you the way you’ve never thought you’d be touched by her.

And it has you fucking aching.

“Yeah? Am I? I’m just saying…If you wanna get your stupid reputation back…you’re gonna have to fuck me.” - She says, confident.

You look at her green eyes, the way her lips form a devilish smile and you wanna throw yourself at her.

What’s wrong with you?

“Fuck it.” - You finally say, as you grab her face and kiss her.

She moans into the kiss, and hums as she puts her hands on your waist.

You deepen the kiss, forcing your tongue inside of her mouth and she gladly takes it. Making out with you.

This feels good. Too fucking good, you’re a soaking wet mess, and you just wanna know if she is too.

You move your hand to her jeans, and quickly unbutton them, with one hand. Sliding your fingers inside of her boxers.

She’s soaked.

“Fuck.” You mutter on her lips. “Fucking wet already? Huh? Wanted me to fuck you so bad?” - You say and she nods in response.

“Don’t pretend like you aren’t fucking drenching for me too, bitch.” - She talks back.

“Oh yeah? You wanna talk back huh?” -You say, as you slide a finger inside of her with no warning, and you start plumping them in and out of her.

She moans in response and throws her head back.

“Cat got your fucking tongue huh? Gonna make you shut the fuck up.” - You say.

You enjoy being rough with her, and by the way she’s clenching your fingers, you can tell she likes it too.

You throw her on the bed and take her jeans off, leaving her with her boxers on.

You get on top of her kiss her neck, and all of her body.

You trail little kisses on her cleavage, down to her stomach and she’s a whimpering mess.

“Want me to taste you?” - I say.

“Lick my fucking pussy already.” - She replied boldly.

Alright.

You lick her perfect belly, and position yourself in between her legs, and you decide to keep teasing her. She deserves it.

You pull her boxers down a little bit, revealing her little clit, and smirking at how wet she is.

“Fucking whore. You just wanted me to fuck you dumb didn’t you?” - You say, and before she can say anything, you put your tongue on her clit, and start tracing little circles with it, you flick your tongue all over it, and suck on it like a pro.

She feels like she’s in heaven, with your mouth pleasing her, and her only. But the thought of you with other women, with their legs spread open for you hits her again.

The thought of that fucking pisses her off, so she grabs your hair, and presses your head against her center, forcing you to suck rougher on her pussy.

she’s using your mouth like a fucking toy, and groaning in pleasure.

“Suck on it bitch, c’mon. Fuck.” - She cussed out, smirking as she thrusts her hips onto your mouth.

That catches you by surprise, but you make sure to tongue fuck her, just to hear how loud her moans are getting.

“Oh fuck yeah…just like that.” - You look up at her, and she’s a moaning mess, her grip on your hair is now weak, and she’s shaking.

You grab her thighs roughly, and slap them.

She immediately flinches.

“You think you can just use my mouth like that, huh?” - You slap her clit and she moans, hands gripping the sheets. “Trying to make yourself fucking cum? Oh no, princess…you’re gonna have to beg for it.” - You say, as you slide a finger inside of her.

She’s a fucking mess. She wanted this for so fucking long, and now she’s getting it. Her best friend is fucking her pussy so good, she feels like she’s about to cry.

“Holy fuck!” - She says.

“Yeah? You like it don’t you?” - You say, and you can’t handle the ache between your legs. It’s even painful. The way your finger goes in and out of her so easily from her soakness blows your mind, and has you creaming in your boxers.

“Fuck yeah. Please…” - She says, not giving a fuck about begging, even though she doesn’t even know what she’s begging for at the moment.

You add another finger, and slide them in and out roughly, feeling her clenching on them like crazy.

She’s about to cum.

“Fuck yes yes yes, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me just like that.” - She begs.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum yet, you filthy slut.” - You command, and she rolls her eyes in pleasure.

She definitely likes when you call her like that. She never imagined she would like getting dominated and degraded by another woman, but everytime she was alone, she fucked herself thinking about how good you’d take her from behind.

As much as she wanted to do the same to you, you’re too much for her too handle. She’s so close to cumming all over your fingers right now.

“Oh my fuck- fucking god!” - Your fingers keep going in and out of her pussy, and you lick her puffy clit while you finger-fuck her.

You lick it up and down, flick it slowly with your tongue, leave little kisses on it, own it like a fucking pro.

“Who fucking owns this pussy? Huh?” - You ask and she can barely talk. She’s too drunk in the feeling of your sweet licks.

“You. You do.” - She confesses as she starts clenching your fingers, she’s close again.

“You’ll cum when I tell you to fucking cum okay?” - You say and she nods. “Good girl.” - You compliment her.

“If you can take my fingers this fucking well, like such a fucking whore…imagine how good you’d take my cock.” - I say and she puts her hand on her mouth, to cover her moans and i quickly slap her thigh clit again.

“Don’t fucking cover your mouth. I wanna hear you.” - She nods and puts her hand on my head, now caressing it. “You like that don’t you? The thought of cumming all over my cock, milking me fucking dry.”

“Holy fuck. Let me cum…please let me cum, I’ll do anything, please.”- She says…And I feel her walls biting my fingers…

“So desperate.” - I smirk. “Fucking cum baby, cum like you’d cum on my dick.” - I tell her and she cums so fucking hard, i even hurts my fingers. But I like it so much, I’m edging myself so good to this.

“That’s it baby, good, good fucking girl.” - I praise her and press little kisses on her clit, with my fingers still inside of her.

“Fuck…oh my god.” - She bites her lip and runs her hands through her hair.

I pull my fingers out of her and get on top of her to kiss her lips softly.

“You did so good.” - I praise her, and lay next to her. She looks at me and smiles. “You fucked me so good, just like I thought you would.”

I chuckle.

“Yeah? You gonna tell them girls I’m good in bed now?” - I tease her.

“No. You’re mine.” - She says. Suddenly serious again.

What?

“I actually lied to you, they never said you suck in bed. They always say you’re too good at eating pussy.” - She confesses and rolls her eyes. “They brag about it all the time. But the truth is…that I’m jealous.”

“They don’t talk to you after the first link because…I threaten them not to get near you…I tell them I’ll put drugs in their backpacks and get them expelled.” - she confesses.

Holy shit. She’s fucking Evil.

All this fucking time? She has been ruining your dates?

Why? Does she like you? She just said she’s jealous. But jealous as a friend or…

“What the fuck. And you lied to me right now?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I just…I just wanted you so bad. I’m…I like you. A lot.” - She says, looking straight into your eyes and you’re suddenly weak.

Your best friend, the girl that was screaming your name beneath you a few minutes ago, likes you.

Oh my god…

I’ve been so stupid.

You remember all those times she has frowned when you have mentioned those girls to her, that one time when she almost kissed you when she was drunk…that other time when you found her diary, and your name was written all over it.

You thought she just really cared about you as a friend…but after this?

What could happen?

Could you ruin the friendship?

#lesbian #lgbt #lgbtq #tlou #wlw ns/fw #ellie x reader #wlw post #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie #ellie x fem reader

477 notes · View notes

possibly-pasta · 2 years

Text

i simply would like to vomit and cry every time i encounter a lesbian blog with transphobia plastered all over it. it really does baffle me how these women can read the same histories that i have, hear the same struggles that i hear, and share the experience of being discriminated against for being Not Straight and just…. i cant comprehend. their blogs are almost always white people centered, hardly ever actually advocate for Full Bodily Autonomy, and like… are y’all happy? are you happy to be seething in hatred? all in all i see only a handful of positive posts from that corner. it’s all talking about suffering and how anyone but them are evil. critical thinking is fucking dead i guess. 🤷🏼‍♂️

#i’m so fuvking tired #i just wanna reboot some cool historical butch photos #and then right underneath is a post about how #“””””AsKiNg mE mY pRoNoUnS iS sAyiNg Im bEiNG a WoMaN wROng #like bro #you understand in the 70s #(an era that they glorify A LOTh #if you so much as vaguely dressed different and didn’t wear makeup #people were gonna call you a Man or ask if you “Are even trying to be a woman #and before you ask no there is no source #this is information i gleaned from direct conversation with people who actually lived through that time #almost like this kind of bullshitttery doesn’t matter in the real queer communities outside of the internet #but kids start their community on the internet #so how about y’all just… gain something empathy???#it has spoken

1 note · View note

foreingersgod · 14 days

Note

I love love love your writing! I was wondering if you could write something about cc dating a pop star, very much chappel roan vibes

y’all must be reading my mind! this is perfect!

Red Wine Supernova . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: you’re an upcoming queer pop star who just happens to be dating the hottest player in the wnba (set slightly in the future just for the sake of plot!)

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

it was off season for caitlin and she was so relieved to have time off from practices and games for a while. she had now devoted all her attention to you, hardly leaving your side these past few weeks. you, on the other hand, were just starting your debut tour. a small one, only a handful of destinations, but incredibly important (and sold out) nonetheless.

yes, caitlin had heard you sing, several times in fact. but she’d been too busy with everything that she had yet to see you perform live, outside of your home studio when it was just the two of you. so when she told you that she wanted to tag along with you for the entirety of your tour, you were practically beaming with excitement.

you had worked really hard on this album and you were thrilled to finally be able to perform it to your growing fan base. you loved performing in the bustling bars of your hometown and the stadiums in surrounding cities, but you’ve always known you were meant for bigger and better things; you wanted to travel the nation and share your songs with so many different people. you were even more excited, though, to have caitlin see you up on stage. something more than just a karaoke stage in a dingy bar with just your guitar and the intensity of your voice. no matter where you sang, caitlin still made it her mission to tell you how amazing you were and how she couldn’t wait to see how much of an amazing star you were turning out to be.

“wow, just…wow” caitlin said, speechless, when she walked into your dressing room for your first show in Chicago.

you, with the help of your entire team and manager, had just got into costume. a purple leotard that dazzled with thousands of hand placed gems. pink fishnets, white go go boots, a matching purple cowboy hat, and a dozen other miscellaneous accessories to pull together the outfit.

you looked up, still trying to pull your leotard into a comfortable position, when you heard her walk in. “hey, i was gonna meet you outside! everything ok?”

“yea no we’re all good,” she looked up and down, lips slightly parted “i just couldn’t wait to see you”

“well i’m glad you came, like the outfit?” your assistants stepped away, sliding past caitlin at the door to give you both some privacy before the show, as you gave caitlin a full twirl of the outfit.

“i love it, you look beautiful, people won’t be able to take their eyes off of you” she said “and if we’re being honest…i can’t wait to take this off of you tonight”

you felt your face heat up underneath your show makeup. “a bit cheeky tonight, i see”

“well when you look so good all the time, how could i not be” she grinned, pulling you into her chest and hugging you deeply before stage management gave you a 3 minute warning. “you’re going to do so good, i’ll be watching!”

“i’ll find you in the crowd, don’t worry” a quick peck on the lips and you were being escorted to the wings of the stage before you knew it.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

“HELLOOOOOO, CHICAGO!!” you cheered into the mic, waving to fans and hyping up the crowd “i’m so happy to perform for ya’ll tonight, this has been an absolute dream of mine”

you gave the classic introduction speech: getting the crowd warmed up, announcing the songs, teaching them the dances that went along with each song. it was cliche, for sure, but you loved it. it felt like you were meant to do this your whole life. once you got rolling, getting comfortable on the stage, the feeling only got better. this was truly a dream come true.

you performed your most popular songs, along with a few of your more lesser known ones, and had the time of your life watching all of your fans sing along to something you had written. you spotted caitlin a few times through the show, watching her sing along too and cheer your name, and it made you incredibly happy to see her support you.

“alright guys, this next one’s a song i’ve been keeping from you for quite some time” the crowd whispered to each other in anticipation “but i think tonight…y’all have earned it” cheers erupted from the audience.

“i wrote thing song a while back, when i met a certain…someone…” you grinned, purposefully avoiding eye contact with your girlfriend “and i fell head over heels for her the second i saw her…so without further ado…here’s RED WINE SUPERNOVA!”

your band started playing and the audience was already dancing and cheering. you were incredibly nervous to perform a new song, and little embarrassed knowing that caitlin was going to finally here a song you wrote about her from months and months ago. but the moment you sung into the microphone, you knew she was going to love it.

through out the song, you gave quick glances over to caitlin, trying not to be obvious while wanting to see if she was enjoying it or not. but you were struggling to find her this time with the change in set lighting.

then suddenly you found her, your eyes meeting, and you instantly noticed the goofy grin plastered on her face as she watched you sing about her. still making eye contact, you continued to sing:

Well, back at my house

I got a California king

you walked over to the end of the stage, with eyes still locked.

Okay, maybe it's a twin bed

And some roommates (don't worry we're cool)

you watched her laugh as she caught on to your inside joke.

I heard you like magic

I got a wand and a rabbit

you pointed out to her and she ran her hands over her blushing face in playful embarrassment.

So baby, let's get freaky, get kinky

Let's make this bed get squeaky!

you blew a final kiss to her, the crowd interpreting it as a cute part of your routine, but she knew you had meant it just for her.

you danced around stage for the remainder of your song, kneeling down time to time to hold your fans hand and letting them sing along with you. when your set ended, you bowed to the crowd and said your finally goodbyes and thank you’s, then quickly running off stage and into your dressing room.

after catching your breathe, you started to take off your makeup and costume, again with the help of your team. caitlin had texted you shortly after that she’d meet you outside the venue so that you could have a little time to talk with your team.

once dressed in a fresh tshirt and jeans, face washed and hair tamed, you grabbed your bags and headed out to find your girlfriend. you found her waiting right outside the venue entrance where she was leaning against a post and checking her phone. she looked up almost instantly upon hearing you call her name and hearing your footsteps against the pavement.

“hey superstar!” she ran over to you, you dropped your bags to the ground as you threw your arms around the back of her neck “you fucking killed it!”

“thanks, cait” you pulled away, smashing your lips into hers feverishly “ d’you like the new song?” you muttered against her lips.

“oh i loved it” she kissed you again “you know…suddenly i’m really into magic”

“is that so?”

“definitely, and i think i got a few tricks to show you back at the hotel, how does that sound?” she cradled your jaw, nipping at your bottom lip. you tried your hardest to suppress a moan.

“take me home, clark”

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb #chappell roan

154 notes · View notes

meat-wentz · 10 months

Text

okay so i’m gonna say here: listen. you’re allowed to think and say whatever you want. sometimes though when you put those things on a large public platform other people will read them and they may find what you have to say hurtful, and it may be your first instinct to go on the defense and say uhm okay get a life if you find this hurtful, but you’ve gotta admit somewhere along the line that if this many people find what you have to say upsetting, there’s a reason why and they’re not crazy for seeing the offending pieces even if you don’t. you don’t have to be intentionally racist to say something racist or intentionally fatphobic to say something fatphobic or intentionally transphobic to say something transphobic etc. you may not even see what you said that was offensive but that’s why you have to listen.

you have to trust that marginalized people (and i’m directing this to marginalized people too) have spent the entirety of their lives picking up on how people speak to and about them to the point where they can see the hurtful matter underneath the seemingly kindest of words. and we’re sick of the way our personhood is approached and the way it’s hidden between words and they way the insult cuts like a knife even when it’s dressed as a compliment. you may not see the offending matter but maybe it’s important to listen to people who do, maybe it’s important to realize it’s not actually about you it’s about acknowledging hurt where hurt was dealt and listening and learning as to how it happened. you’re not evil for saying things, but there are lots of people here trying to explain why they’re flagging your words, maybe you should listen to them.

i’m japanese and which means i have flags for so many innocuous things. when people approach me with the words cute or quiet or small or comment on my hair or mention anime or mention even the most mundane part of my culture like ramen or sushi, my ears prick up. it’s a defense mechanism, all of these seemingly innocent things are things that have been used to fetishize or ostracize me, have been used to hurt me or place me beneath, i have flags on them for good reason, to protect myself. so people may not know why it feels weird to me when they use certain language around and about me, so i’ll literally tell them. it’s strange how many people i’ve known that have immediately put up their defenses because they thought i was calling them evil for saying something so innocent rather than listen to my lived experience of how this language has been used against me and why i prefer different language. it’s so strange how many queer white people i know who are amenable to my pronouns but aren’t amenable to the language i prefer to address me based on my experience being the race i am.

idk i guess the thesis of this is you’re not evil but also maybe listen to the people who are telling you there’s hurt beneath your words even if you don’t know it’s there.

#last thing i’m saying tonight #idk if this makes sense #i lied this was not the last thing i posted tonight

609 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

AITA for sleeping with a 20 year old?

tw: mentions of potential grooming, age gap relationships, nsft/nsfw, vague discussions of sex

So, me (38m) and my wife (39f) are in an open relationship. Basically, we’re both bisexual and not quite ready to limit our sex lives to one person yet. So, we decided to allow friends with benefits situations outside of our relationship. No romantic stuff, no dating, just sex.

In January, my wife went to stay at her best friend’s (28f) house and have some fun together. I don’t mind at all, I was kind of glad to have our apartment to myself for a week. Now, there’s this queer bar that me and my wife frequent and it’s a good mix of all age demographics and identities.

There’s this one trans guy, I’ll call him M, that most people in the local community know because he’s very attractive. He reminds me of a very short Eric Draven mixed with Eddie Vedder. (Oddly specific, I know) Like, he has long-ish curly brown hair, big brown eyes, the sweetest smile ever and he dresses very well. A little grunge here, a little rockstar there. Good jewelry. You get it.

I always catch people staring at him when he’s at the bar with his friends. (We live in Europe btw, legal drinking age is 18.) In short, I find him very cute. He’s basically a micro celebrity among the community and he doesn’t even know it.

So, while my wife was away I went down to the bar and his friend group invited me to come sit with them. We started talking, he’s super funny and we began talking about Pearl Jam because of the shirt I was wearing. Found out he’s obsessed with the music scene of the 90s, specifically rock and grunge, and I happen to have a collection of merchandise of the big 4. I invited him to come check it out and he eagerly accepted. None of his friends wanted to come, so it was just us two. Showed him the stuff, he got super excited about it and I even let him keep one of my Soundgarden shirts and some CDs.

I offered to cook dinner, we ate and then had some weed brownies for dessert. We got posted on the couch, talked for a good while and he began confiding in me. I’m not gonna go into detail because that’s shitty, but he basically told me he’d never had a positive sexual experience up to that point. Apparently all of his exes were switches leaning submissive and he’s purely submissive, so things never really worked out and he never finished with any of them.

I told him about me and my wife’s arrangements and some other stuff about our sex life. (Don’t worry, my wife is 100% okay with this. Even in this context.)

Here’s where I might be the asshole, if not the creep:

Now, I was pretty high at that point and I joked about how I could give him a positive experience. To my surprise, he actually eagerly accepted. I was a bit hesitant because we were both buzzed, but he kept reiterating that he’s consenting and that he’s sure he wants this. So, I made sure he had a good night and he actually ended up sleeping over and we cuddled. It was super nice and he seemed genuinely ecstatic about it the next morning, it was adorable. I was honestly just happy that I was able to give him a positive sexual encounter.

We exchanged numbers, kept texting for two days and he ended up coming over again. Had some more fun together and he went to go sleep over at a friend’s place. At that point, I sort of realized that I may be catching feelings for him. Which is against me and my wife’s rules and also just a horrible idea, especially considering the age gap. So, I let him know that I need some distance and he was super understanding. He was understandably a bit disappointed but didn’t complain or anything.

Once my wife came back, I told her about everything. This is just a thing we do because it helps avoid speculation and unnecessary jealousy. We always tell each other about what happens with our other sexual partners, but only if they consent to it. Which most of them do because they’re our friends. She seemed a bit unnerved by it, not because of the fact that I had feelings for him, but because of the age difference. She said it’s weird and predatory and told me she needed some time to think.

Apparently, she went to go check in on M and asked him if I pressured him into anything. He said it was a 100% mutual thing and he’s very much into older guys, so he enjoyed it quite a lot.

This put her mind at ease but I’m still quite shaken by it. I never stopped to consider the fact that the age difference is quite concerning. I can’t help but feel like a nasty creep that bribed some poor 20 year with old band shirts to come sleep with him. I don’t like that I didn’t even think about it. Talking with M came so easy and we share a lot of interests. I’m not about to go and say he’s 'mature for his age' because he isn’t, he acts like any other 20 year old.

I was just so focused on how attractive and interesting he is to me, I fear I might’ve acted extremely selfish and should’ve stopped to take his lack of experience and his naivety into account. Of course he’d sleep with me, he’s 20 and doesn’t know any better. It should’ve been my job, as the older adult, to put a stop to it. Please don’t hesitate to give it to me straight.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #eyestrain

192 notes · View notes

hp-hcs · 2 months

Note

Can maybe request some slytherin boys with gay awakeing trope? Maybe headcanons or shorts

gay awakening headcanons — mlm! slytherin boys x male! reader

hella short cause of some ✨personal stuff✨ going on, but i just wanted to get something out 🤷‍♂️

me? blame my shitty writing skills on my current health problems? what no never

❕not proofread❕

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

mattheo

immediately has a mental breakdown

identity crisis anyone?

i feel like he would have that panicky gay moment where he realizes that his friend is actually his More Than Friend, ykwim?

like, you just do something innocuous like sling your arm over his shoulders while walking to class and babyboy just FREEZES

the second that happens, he immediately drops out of your life while he freaks out gets his shit together

like, homeboy just deadass vanishes

doesn’t show up to any of his classes

doesn't show up to quidditch practice (draco threatens to kill him for that, cousin or not)

meanwhile you’re just there like 🧍 “what did i do?”

because my lil darlin mattheo cannot healthily express any emotion ever, he would “solve” his problem by just like, purposefully running into you in the halls and kissing your cheek, then just full-on 🏃💨 SPRINTING 🏃💨 away without a word

theo

also has an identity crisis, he’s just better at hiding it

gotta save face, amirite?

but anyways-

you weren’t even doing anything out of the ordinary, you were just hanging out with him in his room and ended up lighting his cigarette for him

that’s it. homeboy is already whipped for ya.

like, straight up simp.

i feel like theo’s a “i’m definitely going to have a panic attack over this at two in the morning, but for now i’m just going to not think and enjoy 😌💅” kind of mentality

just flat out says it

“you know, you look really hot today.”

y/n: 😳😏………..💏💋😘

draco

have you ever had a friend that was so clearly Not Straight but they just kept denying it for years before finally coming out?

well that’s draco <3

you were at a party and agreed to join some kind of kissing game

like, spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven, post office…

(does anybody actually still play post office?)

and obviously, you both end up having to kiss each other duh

homeboy is not doing well

but not in a “what?? i don’t know what’s going on!!” kind of way

in a “ah shit my friends were right every time they called me gay, fuck” kind of way <3

immediately start dating after the party and everyone’s like 🤨👀

blaise

i feel like blaise already knew/suspected, but just didn’t have the vocabulary to describe his sexuality, ykwim?

i’m getting pansexual vibes frfr

could not give less of a fuck

is just like “shit alright, d'you wanna make out then?”

i mean……..it’s not like you’re gonna say no

this man. tHIS MAN. he’d be such a gentleman omfg

also i’m not gonna say sugar daddy but sugar daddy

would absolutely buy you anything you even looked at. you looked at a ten thousand galleon wristwatch in a luxury store? it’ll be on your bed waiting for you by the time you get home

if anyone was homophobic or wtv, he wouldn’t beat them up per se, but he would do something unnecessarily extra, like wear a dress and makeup just to be like “wdym? we’re a straight couple, obviously”

(he would tell his friends about the homophobe though, and they wouldn’t be quite as composed and respectful as him 👊😠🩸😵😵‍💫)

enzo

this man seriously does not care

like, he’s just like “oh i’m queer? hahah that’s crazy”

this man has no qualms about asking you out in the middle of class in front of everyone

like, in the middle of potions or smth he’d just be like “y/n, wanna go get dinner sometime?”

and you’re like “…aren’t you straight?” 🧍

enzo: “who knows? not me! does saturday at eight work?”

he’s so silly goofy i just love him sm

this boy would be a hella fine kisser, i just know it

WOULD ASK YOU TO THE YULE BALL 🕺🕺

AND WOULD GET YOU GUYS MATCHING BOUTONNIÈRES 💐

regulus

“ah shit i owe the boys twenty galleons, fuck”

resigned, more than anything

he can’t even come out, either cause like, what would that even be?

“guys, i have to tell you something……i’m gay”

“yep. what do you have to tell us??”

you asked him out cause you thought he was gay

and he was just like 😳🤨🤷‍♂️🙂👍

you guys went to fortescue’s!!! 🍦🍨🍧

(he’s def a mint chocolate chip kind of guy i’m just saying)

y’all end up being like, the it couple at hogwarts i don’t make the rules

324 notes · View notes

finntheehumaneater · 3 months

Text

(one day I’m) gonna cut it clear

have this sad stuff I wrote last night to try and cheer myself up :)

(Sorry for any mistakes this was copied and pasted from photos of notebook proper :/)

TW: mentions of past trauma and paternal abuse

The first time that Eddie had cut his hair short, he had been eight and messing around with his mom's fancy brass scissors—the ones where the blades were a beak She used him to cut string from her quilts, and to trim his uncle’s hair when the man wasn't out in his boat. Eddie had used them to chop his hair off, watching The long brown curls fall onto the rug that his dad had bought as a wedding present for his mom.

It was rough and scratchy. Probably cheap, too.

He sat there on his knees, one hand curled around the scissors, the other feeling through his choppy strands, staring down at the loose hair on the floor.

His dad had hit him for that, grabbing him by the arms and shoving him into his room with a sharp “the hell were you thinking, girl?” before he had locked the door.

Eddie had cried all afternoon, begging to no one, because he was sorry and he didn’t want his hair short anymore. Because he had cut it to stop people from calling it pretty but he knew they still would. Because he didn’t want to be trapped in the suffocating Georgia summer heat that was seeping in through the windows anymore.

When his mom had come home from Auntie Lacy's house—not his real aunt, but she got sad if Eddie didn't call her that, seeing as how she was close enough to family as is—he still remembered how broken she had sounded, finding Eddie laying on the wood floor in just his underwear, tucked away in a corner, panting.

She had drawn him a cold bath, hushing him softly when he complained about the cool water.

“My baby,” She had whispered, her accent seeping through her words. It wasn't like the southern one that she put on for his dad—some kind of Eastern European that he couldn't remember. She never talked about where she came from

"Your hair was so pretty.”

Eddie had turned to press his face into his mom’s palm, whimpering, “Don’t want it short anymore. M’sorry, mama, m’sorry.”

She had fixed his hair after that—made it look more even and neat. She had let him curl up in her lap afterwards, the bird scissors on the coffee table and the chopped strands gone from the rug. Her thin fingers pet through his hair—but there really wasn’t anything to pet through anymore, just gentle touches smoothed over his scalp, kisses pressed to the lop of his head where he could nearly feel her lips.

"It will grow back, iubirea mea," She assured him, rocking him in her arms as his fingers dug into the folds of her white dress. She smelled like cinnamon and sunscreen, and that incense that Auntie Lacy always burned. "It will grow back, Edith.”

"Eddie," He had whispered, his words unsure and choked as he closed his eyes and waited for her to hit him—to lock him back in his room with his bolted windows and stiff mattress.

But she just kissed his hair again, taking nis hand and rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.

"Eddie," she agreed, holding him tighter when he sobbed and nodded, her fingers soft and warm against his. “My sweet Eddie. My baby."

The second time his hair was cut he was thirteen. He had cried the whole way to the shop, gripping at the hair that fell just past his shoulders, like if he held on tight enough, it wouldn't have to go away.

“Stop crying,” his dad had snapped, his hands tight on the wheel of his Chevy truck. "If you wanna be a boy so bad, then fuckin’ act like one. Gonna look like one soon, too.”

He pulled Eddie out of the car. “This’ll show you. I ain’t raise my girl to be no fuckin’ queer,” he spat. “That was all that bitch’s doin’, ain’t it? Good thing she’s gone.”

“Don’t talk about mom like that,” Eddie sobbed, barely forcing the words out before he had stumbled backwards, face stinging and red from where his dad had hit him.

“She ain’t your mama no more. Ain’t that right, girl? Now fuckin’ get in there and tell the lady you want it all gone, or I ain’t letting you out of your room for a week,” his dad threaten, grabbing the collar of Eddie’s shirt. “A fucking week, you hear?”

That was the day that Eddie had left with Wayne for Indiana. His dad—no, Al, he wasn’t Eddie’s fucking dad anymore—hadn’t cared that Eddie had left. He had probably told all of his drinking buddies that “the other bitch is finally dead,” just so no one who might miss him in the town would go looking and bring him back. It would have only been Auntie Lacy. He still missed her sometimes.

Wayne hadn’t minded that Eddie didn’t want to wear the dresses or the skirts that he had packed from Georgia—took to buying him jeans when he had the money for something extra.

He had saved up for two years, working extra shifts and on holidays, so that when Eddie turned sixteen he could take him to the doctors and get him the stuff that made his voice drop. Eddie didn’t remember what it was called—hadn’t been able to hear the doctor over the ringing in his years from how hard his jaw was clenched as he tried not to cry in front of her and Wayne.

“Gonna get you fixed,” Wayne had said on the ride back to the trailer, and Eddie had laughed, but it sounded more like a sob.

“M’not a dog, Wayne.”

He had let Wayne do the shots, since anytime he tried to do it himself, his hands would snake too much.

“Haven't even done it yet, boy," Wayne muttered, his face annoyed, but his tone soft and sympathetic. "Just breathe."

Eddie did, but he had still flinched away again, just one more time.

The third time it was cut would be soon, if Eddie could just force himself to fucking man up and do it. He had just driven back from the antique shop down the road, bought those scissors he had seen nestled in between the old watercolor tins full of white chalk sticks and the black and white photos of men in long coats and hats—women with their hair up in a portrait studio, loggers standing on the planks stuck into trees as they worked, children sat on stools and chairs with dead-eyes.

They were bird scissors, brassy-brown and shining, still sharp. Like his mom used to have.

He looked out at the trailers he drove past. Two mail boxes until home. His stuff was in the back of his van, all the important stuff anyway, packed away into three boxes. Three.

And then he was home, into the house and then to the bathroom. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. And maybe he was crying. He was so fucking sick of crying.

His arms ached as he stretched the scars to reach up and grab a strand of hair, cutting. It was only an inch or two off the bottom, on a piece that he could easily tuck away and hide, but he still broke down—dropping the scissors and sobbing into his hands as he sank to the bathroom tiles on the floor.

He didn't want to cut his hair, but he had to. And he didn't know why he had to, which made him cry harder—hysterical sobs and gasps that no one but the nearly-empty shampoo bottles strewn sideways on the drain on the shower floor could hear.

He sounded like he was dying.

Maybe he was.

He Knew what it felt like to die — to have the skin ripped away from his insides, his body bloody and aching.

This hurt worse

It hurt worse than the hell he had been through.

It hurt worse than hearing Steve cry and break over him in the hospital, when his body was too sore to move—to cradle him gently like his mom used to do, brush a hand over his hair and whisper gentle names in a language that he didn’t know—a quiet "just breathe, my baby. Lucrul meu dulce. You can be sad, but don't let it choke you. You can cry, but don't let it make you forget how to live. How to breathe. How to smile."

Eddie pulled himself up, dragging himself out of the bathroom and over to the phone on the wall in the kitchen.

He spun the rotary, hearing it whir and click after each number. A number he had whispered to himself night after night until he was sure he wouldn't forget it. But now his brain was fogged as his breath caught on a whimper, and he couldn't remember if it ended in a six or a nine.

Six. He spun to a six and watched it move back, the phone gripped in both hands as it rang.

“Hello?” And Eddie sobbed again at the sound of Steve's voice.

"Hey," he choked out, willing his voice to be level and his breathing to be calm, but to no avail.

‘Baby," Steve breathed, and god, Eddie didn't think it was ever possible for him to grow tired of hearing Steve call him that. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Eddie shook his head as an instinct, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw set, strained words coming out as he spoke again. "Need you to come over. Want to cut my hair.”

"Your hair?" Steve parroted back, his voice unbelievably soft, so soft that it made Eddie's chest ache a bit inside.

"Yeah."

Steve didn't ask why, even though he knew that Eddie's hair was important to him. He did offer to do it for Eddie—being the one out of the two of them who was more knowledgeable on the subject—but Eddie declined, saying that he needed to be the one to do it himself.

“I just need you to be here when I do it," Eddie whispered. He would have asked Wayne to sit with him, but Wayne was at work, and Eddie wasn't supposed to bother him unless it was an emergency.

He knew that Wayne would have come straight home if he had called to ask, though.

“I’ll leave now, alright?" Steve whispered. “Ten minutes, You go rest, get yourself a drink. Whatever you need to do baby, then I'll be there. Promise.”

“Okay" Eddie whispered, and even though Eddie wanted a reason to procrastinate this further, he hung up the phone, listening to the dial-tone sound off for a few minutes before shuffling over to the living room and pressing his face into a scratchy pillow.

He tried to calm his breathing while he waited for Steve.

Should I make a part two? Maybe?? If you guys want??

Permanent taglist: @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @here4thetrama @goodolefashionedloverboi

162 notes · View notes