#so gay since third grade

[jockbroski34]

How Things Used To Be

I wonder how long it took me to notice that there was something wrong with Nathan.  We had been best friends for years, ever since the 5th grade, and we always hung out together both in and out of school.  I was hoping things could’ve stayed like that this summer, but it seemed like fate had other plans.  Between family vacations and college prep, it seemed like he didn’t have time for me anymore.  And to make it worse, whenever he wasn’t doing that, he was hanging out with some other guys who I had never met, and he never even bothered to ask me if I wanted to come with.  I know people grow and change, but I didn’t want to see it happen to my own best friend.  On the bright side, we’re going to the same college, so I hope I can see him around.

And I did see him.  It was the third week of courses, once I was starting to get acquainted with campus life.  For once, I was actually being more social, trying to fill the gap that Nathan left.  I used this opportunity to start talking to people in my classes and I found that we had some similar interests.  I wish I could say the same for my roommate, but he mostly keeps to himself and we don’t have much in common.

Okay, back to Nathan.  I was walking back to the dorms after my last class, texting one of my classmates about the homework.  I was interrupted when I walked headfirst into another student.  I should’ve been paying more attention to my surroundings.  I looked up at the giant in front of me, probably 6’3”, before apologizing.

“James, is that you?”  the giant asked.  The voice sounded very familiar, yet at the same time, different.  I took a closer look at him.  “Long time no see, huh?”  I was surprised when I realized who it was.

“Nate?  Woah, what happened to you?”  I couldn’t believe that this person in front of me was my best friend.  This was not the same Nathan from three months ago during graduation.  He was always a bit taller than me, but he had to have grown at least 3 inches.  He used to wear glasses, but it seemed like he switched over to contacts.

In the warm August heat, he was wearing a tank top which revealed his newfound biceps for the whole world to see.  The tank top clung closely to his chest and I could see his newly-formed six-pack through the fabric.  He was wearing basketball shorts that were short enough that I could catch a glimpse of his thighs, which were just as big as his arms.  I never knew Nathan went to the gym, and if he did, he never told me.  But still, I couldn’t comprehend how he became so huge in just three months, which made me more curious about what he had been up to.  A backwards hat fit tightly atop his head with Greek letters on them.  Sigma Lambda Chi…  Had Nathan really joined a frat?  To be completely honest, he looked like he was cosplaying as a frat bro, a far cry from how I knew him.

“Like what you see, bro?”  James chuckled, as he flexed one of his arms.  He definitely never came across as a cocky showoff, but I was too distracted by his flexed bicep to notice.  I caught myself staring for a second too long, before feeling my face turn red hot.  Me and Nathan knew everything about each other, but there was one thing I never told him.  I was gay.  To tell you the truth, I had a crush on him, but I knew I could never tell him to preserve our friendship.  But now he looks even better, and he hasn’t made time for me at all.  Now he really felt out of my league.

“I’ve been working out a lot lately.  I’m glad you noticed.”  He still had his signature smile, but it looked out of place on his new body.  His face especially looked a lot more angular and masculine.  A visible tan glazed over his body like a fresh coat of paint.

“Daaamn!  You look great, dude!”  To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to feel talking to him again.  On one hand, I was happy to see him again, and, admittedly, a little surprised to see him like this.  On the other hand, he ditched me this whole summer to hang out with some other guys.  It felt so bittersweet.

“If there weren’t other people around, I’d let you…I mean uh, how have you been bro?  I know I’ve been busy a lot lately.  Sorry about that, dude.”  We told each other what we did over the summer, and wow, was his summer more interesting.

As we caught up, I learned more about what he has been up to.  Apparently, he joined a frat and he was hanging out with the guys there more and more.  He promised that he’d bring me to a party sometime, but I was hesitant because I’m not much of a party animal.  That lifestyle just isn’t for me.  He also said he was thinking about joining our school’s football team at the request of his roommate, which I found even more surprising because Nathan never played sports in high school.  I did track, but I was never that big into sports myself.  Our conversation was interrupted as another guy entered the scene.

“Yo, Nate!  Finally found you.  You seriously need to get better at texting me back, dude.  And who’s this dude?”  The guy was wearing the same hat as Nate, so I figured he was one of his frat bros.

“My bad, bro.  Brett, this is James.  We go way back.  James, this is Brett.  He’s my roommate.  We met over the summer and we’ve been hanging out since.”

“Alright, cool, bro,”  Brett responded, clearly impatient and indifferent towards me.  He dismissed me entirely, almost like I wasn’t worth his time.  “You still going to the gym with me or what?”

“Sorry, bro.  I just ran into him and we were catching up.”  Nathan responded.  “Hey, I gotta get going.  We should get food sometime.  Peace!”  I watched as Nathan and Brett walked away in the opposite direction of me towards the gym.  As they moved further away, I could hear Brett chastise him about something.  This is the guy that Nathan ditched me for?  I hope I’m wrong, but he seemed like kind of a dick.  I know I was jealous of him for taking up my best friend’s time, but I didn’t trust him.  As for me, I returned to the dorm to work on the assignment with my roommate.

The next time I saw Nate was that weekend, when I held up his promise to get something to eat.  I tried to ask him about it earlier in the week, but he was doing stuff at the frat all that time.  I was at least grateful that he took time out of his schedule for me for once.  He mentioned that he normally doesn’t hang out with anyone who wasn’t in the frat, almost like they were some exclusive bro clique that I was excluded from.  For once, it was good to hang out with him one-on-one without any of his frat bros getting in the way.  I expected things to be like how they were before, but I couldn’t be any more wrong.

It’s not that I disliked the new Nathan, but I felt like we didn’t have much common ground anymore.  It was like he was a completely different person.  He didn’t seem to care that much about our old interests anymore.  He didn’t have time for video games and he just wasn’t that interested in watching movies or photography anymore.  All he seemed to care about was working out all day and partying all night.  All he would talk about was some stupid stuff he or one of his bros did.

Plus, he told me he switched his major from mechanical engineering to be a personal trainer.  It seemed like he just became a total gym bro overnight.  The studious and witty Nathan that I loved kinda just seemed to be a stereotypical meathead now.  The worst part was that I knew that this was the same Nathan deep down, and he still treated me the same even if he was a lot busier.  I felt like maybe I was the problem since he was clearly still having a good time, and I wasn’t.  Why do I feel this way?

I felt my mood change as we talked.  Eventually, I figured it was time to cut off the conversation and return to the dorm, but Nathan definitely knew something was off.  He texted me later that evening, asking me if everything was alright.  To be honest, I wanted to make some lame excuse that I was feeling sick, but we’ve always been honest with each other, so I told him how I really felt.

Me: Nate, to be honest, I think I need some time away from you.  I don’t hate you or anything, but it feels like we’ve been growing apart and I feel like you’ve become a different person.  I feel like when I look at you, I don’t see the Nathan I’ve known for years, but someone else entirely.

I wanted to say more about how I felt about his new changes, but I didn’t want to escalate things.

Nathan: James, I’m sorry you feel that way about me.  I felt like we had a good time today.  I’ve grown and changed a lot recently, and I’ve realized a lot about myself, but I’m happy with who I am right now.  I know I’m spending a lot of time at the gym or with Brett or my other bros, but I still care about you deeply, bro.  You might be right though.  Hanging out with you isn’t the same as hanging with the guys at the frat.

Me: Do you honestly see yourself as just a frat boy?  You’re more than that.  You’re my best friend.  But now, you have more in common with the jocks from high school than the Nathan I knew.  It’s hard talking to you now since all you care about anymore are your gains and partying.  You’re nothing more than a meathead now.

Nathan: So that’s how you see me, bro?  The reason I had been avoiding you is because I knew that you wouldn’t like seeing me like this.  I guess I was right, bro.  But trust me, I’m happy like this.  I’m a lot more social than when I was when I was with you, and I’ve even become more in shape too.  I care about our friendship more than you can possibly imagine, but I guess this is for the best.  To be honest, I think it would be a lot of fun if you were here in the frat with me, but I know you wouldn’t say yes.

I didn’t bother responding.  I could never picture myself joining a frat.  I would never get along with his frat bro friends, especially Brett, who seemed to be the one he was closest with.  I still couldn’t believe Nate would choose him over me.  I wasn’t sure whether to feel angry, or sad, or disappointed towards him.  I felt like he was wasting his life partying when he should be studying.  To think this was the person I cared about more than anyone.  It was at this point that I figured I probably wouldn’t have my old friend back.  Or so I thought.

A couple weeks passed and I tried to move on from Nathan.  I always saw him on his story drinking and partying late into the night at the frat house or posting selfies at the gym.  He looked like he was fully embracing his new frat boy persona now.  If he didn’t still care about me, it would’ve felt like he was doing it out of spite.  As for me, I started to hang out with my classmates more and more, and there was even a guy I went on a date with.  It was a nice date and I did like the guy, but for some reason, the thought of Nathan lingered in my mind.  Even though I hated what he had become, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about him.  I couldn’t deny how much he turned me on.  Why was I still thirsting after a stupid fucking frat bro?  One afternoon, after I returned to my dorm, I received a text on my phone.  To my surprise, it was Nathan.

“Hey bro, can we talk?  There are some things I need to get off my chest.”

I didn’t know what he could possibly want with me now.  I suppose I can hear him out just so I can see what he wants.  I went over to his room further down the hall, and thankfully Brett was not here to ruin the moment.  Nate said that he was doing some preparations for some stuff at the frat.  When I asked, he didn’t specify what though.  It always feels like stuff at the frat is kept under wraps.

“Did you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

“Even if it’s beer?”  A mischievous grin appeared on his face.  Was he seriously offering me beer?  I knew that alcohol wasn’t allowed in the dorms, but clearly that rule didn’t faze him.  Obviously he knew how to get his hands on some drinks.  To be honest, I had never drank alcohol before, but I figured this would be the easiest way to try it before I turned 21.  Plus, it might alleviate the tension between us.  Either that or make us fight like two drunkards in a bar.

“Sure, why not.”  Nate went to get two bottles for us.  I took my first sip and was disgusted by the bitter taste of the beer.

“You don’t like it?  Neither did I at first,” Nate chuckled.  “After a while, you get used to it.”  Nate turned the TV on as we chatted.  I apologized about what I said about him last time we talked, but he said it was no big deal.  I felt like I was a little too harsh on him.  It could just be the alcohol, but I found that I got along with him better than I did weeks ago.  As we chatted, my body started to tingle.  Was this how it felt like to be drunk?

“Hey, Nate.  I feel kinda weird, but not like drunk weird.  Is this normal, bro?”  I asked.  By this point, we both had two drinks each.  I didn’t mind the taste of the beer the second time.

“Nah, you’re fine bro.”  Nate responded, with a smile on his face.  Compared to me, he appeared to be much more sober.  “It happens sometimes, especially when you’re not used to it.”  I figured he knew best, since he was the one drinking and partying all the time, so I ignored this foreign feeling rushing through my body.  I felt as if my body was overheating as I felt my arms and legs throb and pulsate.  Sweat was leaking off my armpits and down my forehead.  There was part of me that knew that something was off, but it was drowned out by the alcohol.  As I took another sip, I felt my arm spasm as I accidentally spilled some beer onto my shirt.  Shit, I wasn’t expecting to do laundry later.

“Damn bro, you made a mess.  You alright?  Do you wanna change your shirt?”  Nate asked.  I nodded and he quickly went to his room to pick out something for me.  It wasn’t the first time I had to wear his clothes.  “Sorry about that, bro.  First thing I found.  Hope it fits you.”  It was a stringer tank with Sigma Lambda Chi on it.  I bet Nate looked like a walking symbol of the frat wearing that stuff.  For some reason, the idea was kinda amusing to me because it seemed so over the top.  I wondered how I would look dressed up like that.  I’d probably look really stupid.

I stripped out of my wet shirt and changed right in front of him.  I caught a whiff from my armpits, and I thought I smelled like a sweaty gym bro.  The tank appeared to be a size up and it hung loosely on me.  Still, it was better than nothing I guess.  Despite that, it had a nice familiar smell to it though.  It smelled like Nathan, but at the same time, it had a different flavor to it.  He smelled a lot more manly than I remembered.  I bet he wore it to the gym often.

Eventually, after my third drink, I went to go to the bathroom.  My body was starting to ache, like I had just done a workout with Nate earlier.  Workout…Was that what happened earlier?  …I think so?  Did we work out after class and come back to his place for some brewskis?  For some reason, the events of today felt incredibly fuzzy to me.  I was starting to forget the reason I was here in the first place.

I clumsily stumbled over my feet which looked bigger than usual.  After I took a piss, I looked at myself in the mirror.  Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I didn’t always look that big, right?  From a first glance, it looked like I was looking through one of those distorted mirrors they have at amusement parks.  I had to have been really drunk at this point.  I chuckled at the figure in front of me.  At this point, I almost looked like one of those frat bros!  I decided to flex my arms like they would, oblivious to the fact that they already grew just a little bit, before joining Nate on the couch.

“There you are, big man!”  he said as he squeezed my muscles.  I have been working out recently, I think.  “I thought you passed out in there.  Most guys don’t last that long for their first time, but you look good enough for another brewski.”

After downing our fourth drinks, the conversation took a different turn.

“Yo, James.  I knew you said you weren’t too big on the idea of joining our frat last time we chatted, but how do you feel now, having thought things over?”

I remembered our last conversation.  Honestly, I was so drunk that I didn’t remember why I turned him down in the first place.  The idea that seemed unappealing to me at the time seemed like it was perfect for me at this moment.  I didn’t even understand why I would be so reluctant to join.  I needed to join more than anything else.  I would do anything to join, even if I had to completely humiliate myself in front of my fellow bros.  At this point, nothing was too extreme for me.  The fact that Nate was in it was enough reason to join, so we could hang out more like we used to.  Plus, I could get to hang out with all my other bros and drink and party whenever we want.

“I’ve given it some thought, and yeah bro, I’ll join,”  my voice slurred as my mouth moved before my mind could.  I had committed at this point.  No backing out now.  I’m a member of Sigma Lambda Chi for life.

“Sweet, bro!”  He grabbed me on my far shoulder and pulled me close.  “I’m glad you said yes, because I have a surprise for you.  Close your eyes, bro.”

I closed my eyes as Nate went into his room to grab something.  Did I actually agree to join his frat?  I’m not sure what’s going on with me today.  When he came back, I felt Nate press on my head as his “surprise” fit tight around it.  “You can open them now.”

I realized I was wearing the same hat that Nate always wore, with his frat’s letters printed on it.  “We’re gonna be matching now, bro.  Isn’t that awesome?  I know you’re gonna want to wear it whenever and wherever.  But you’re wearing it wrong.  Let me fix it for you, dude.”  He turned the brim around so it faced my back.  As my hat turned backwards, I felt my mind fog up and any tension or brain activity screech to a halt.  I was unable to realize what I signed myself up for, unable to protest.  My conscious mind was drowned out by the alcohol and this hat was like a lock, sealing it away.  Not that I was against this, as a wave of pleasure surged through me.  I felt my mind slow down, almost as if it was stuck in molasses, as my thoughts began to simplify. It felt good though...

I would follow the example of my fellow brothers.  Look like them, think like them, act like them.  Almost like a hivemind of bros, you know, bro?  By this point, the changes were irreversible.  Nate had turned me into another frat bro just like him.

“Everything worked out as planned, bro.  You see, when you, my own best bro, told me you didn’t want to join the frat with me, I was actually really hurt.  So I talked to Brett, and had him “work his magic”, to help me do to you what he did to me.  I don’t like to lie to you, but it’s a frat secret, so now you get to know bro.  Like I said, it’s a secret, so don’t talk about this with anyone.”

“Don’t worry about it bro.  It’s all…uh…

Fuck dude, what’s the word…water under the bridge?  Huhuhu…”  I really had to think about that one.  I found it harder to articulate and use complex words, as I mainly just spoke in bro-speak.  To be honest, I wasn’t really that upset that he lied to me.  He did what he had to as a member of the frat.  I never stayed mad at one of my bros for very long.

“Now we get to be brothers for life,” he said as he gave me a big bro hug.  We clung to each other like two giant masses of muscle.  My huge biceps wrapped around his firm back as his did for me.  Afterwards, he handed me my fifth drink and we cheered to me joining Sigma Lambda Chi.  He laid down all of the rules, what everything was like, telling me about the coolest guys there, and so on.  He said he’d bring me to the frat house and introduce me to everyone tomorrow.  “They’re gonna love you for sure, bro.  I’ve got an eye for cool bros like you.”

As it got later, and we moved on to drink numero 6, I felt myself get very tired as we both passed out on his couch.  I woke up a couple hours later, and I looked out the window to see a pitch black sky.  Shit, it was almost 10 PM and I had to turn in my assignment at midnight.  But for some reason, I didn’t really care right now.  I didn’t mind turning in assignments late as long as the teacher still gave me credit.  I felt no different from the way I was a couple hours ago, just another Sigma Lambda Chi frat bro, but I liked it.  It felt right to me.  It was where I, no, where we belonged.

I looked down.  Nate’s tank hung tightly to me now.  It took me a second to notice my arms…Holy shit, they were fucking huge!  I looked awesome, bro.  As I admired my new body, Nate was still asleep, his hand on my meaty thigh.  Just above that, my dick throbbed through my pants.  Fuck, I was so horny for some reason.  Eventually, Nate slowly regained consciousness.

“I usually don’t drink this much on a school day,” Nate said, still a little hungover as he rubbed his eyes.  We sat in silence for about a minute before he spoke again.  “By the way, there was another reason I invited you over.  There’s something that’s been on my chest for a while.”

“Go ahead, bro.  I can take it,”  I responded confidently.  My voice sounded deeper and more bro-like than usual, just like him.

“Here goes, dude.  I think I like you, bro.  Not like you, but I think I like like you.  I know it’s hella gay, but I couldn’t stand to see you be so cold to me.  That’s why I had to make you a bro like me.  I’m sure you’ll love it here, bro.  And hey, if you’re not gay, that’s cool.  We can forget this shit ever happened and go back to being bros for life.”

At first, I honestly thought I was still dreaming.  First, he turned me into a frat boy, and now, he was confessing his feelings to me?  How crazier could this night get?  For all my life, I thought he was straight.  I remembered being glad when he broke up with his girlfriend two years back.  I couldn’t stand her.  When he joined Sigma Lambda Chi, I assumed he was 100% straight and that he was banging some sorority chicks every night.  To think he felt the same way I did all this time.

“Bro, I like you too.  When you stopped talking to me, I started to get kinda jealous.  I didn’t want to accept you for who you are.  But being your bro just isn’t enough for me, bro.”  I leaned in for a kiss, my inhibitions still nowhere to be found.  It was my first kiss and it was with the person I cherished most.  I felt like I was in heaven.  I didn’t really care that I was a dumb frat bro like him anymore.  I never did.  That shit was stupid anyways.  But now, Nate fixed our friendship and made us closer than ever.  I loved the taste of his lips against mine and I didn’t want it to end but eventually Nate parted our lips.

“Wanna fuck me, bro?”  he whispered in my ear.  A flirtatious smirk was plastered on his face, and one of his hands was still wrapped around my neck.  This was real.  I nodded as he took me to his bed.  I had never done this before, but I’ve seen plenty of porn, so I knew what to expect.  He laid down on his back and stripped naked.  I never felt this aroused before.  My dick even looked bigger than it used to be.  I was so pent up that I felt like I was holding this load in for months.  I guess frat bros really are as horny as they say.  I lubed up my larger cock before sticking it into Nate’s hole.

My serpent stretched out his tight hole as he had clearly not seen much action down there until now.  I pounded his ass as my dick went in and out of him.  In and out, in and out, in and out…It was a steady rhythm, my dick was like a metronome.  My hands clung to him as I held him in place, pinning him to his bed.  My hands ran all over his shoulders, broad and muscular, built like a football player’s.  We both felt absolutely euphoric as our deep, masculine moans filled the room.  The moans were loud enough that the students on the other side of the wall could easily hear them, but I didn’t care about any noise complaints as I fucked him harder and harder.  After half an hour of fucking, he both hit our orgasm at almost exactly the same time.  I ejaculated inside his tight hole, my hot, sticky seed flooding his insides as Nate came all over his abs.  At this point I was exhausted and still hungover and I basically fell on top of him on his bed.  We were both panting and out of breath.

“I knew you were a good fucker, bro.”  he whispered seductively as he kissed me.  We stayed in that position for several minutes until we heard the door open.

“Yo, Nate!  Did you do it?  How did it go?”  a voice asked, shouting loudly from the other room.  I recognized the voice as Brett’s.  He peeked into the room, witnessing the two of us cuddling together naked.  To be honest, I thought he would’ve been grossed out.  Guess I had the wrong idea about him.

“Better than expected, dude,” Nate responded.  He didn’t seem to care that we were both naked in front of his roommate and that we just got back from our trip to Pound Town.

“He looks way better this way, don’t you agree, bro?  But man, dude, now I know why you wanted him to be a pledge so bad.  I was wondering why you wouldn’t fuck any of those sexy sorority babes.  More for me, I guess.”

A week passed and by then, I joined the frat officially.  Me and Nate started dating shortly after, but none of our bros minded.  It didn’t matter if we were gay, we were still brothers.  I also learned how Nate met Brett.  He was taking a tour of the campus over the summer and he ran into Brett who was recruiting people for the frat.  Brett took a liking to him and kinda took him under his wing like some sort of mentor and they started hanging out since he only lived a town away from us.  Brett was our age, but he had more seniority and authority because his older brother Brad was very popular within the frat.  Turns out Brett and some of the upperclassmen knew how to turn guys into the ideal bros for their frat.  They wanted to bolster their numbers to make Sigma Lambda Chi the biggest and coolest frat in the state, with the biggest bros and the biggest parties, and naturally both me and Nate were chosen.  Not that either of us minded.  Nate joined the football team with Brett and some other guys in the frat, and the rest of us would go watch them play every game.  Our section of the stadium was always the loudest and rowdiest, especially when one of our bros scored a touchdown.

Apparently I grew a ton during the night that I was with Nate, but I was too drunk to notice just how massive I had become.  It must’ve been something in the beer, huhu.  I started working out with Nate and Brett, and sometimes some other bros too.  I even ended up changing my major.  I chose business because my bros said that it was the easiest shit ever and I wasn’t feeling psychology anymore.  I didn’t really feel like thinking much anymore and I found that focusing on education so much was a chore and that I was wasting my college experience.  I’d rather be partying and drinking or hanging out with the bros at the frat house, watching sports, playing video games, or playing ball outside.  I got to see why Nate grew to enjoy this lifestyle so much, and I was mad at myself for not seeing his point of view sooner.

Three years later, me and Nate are still dating and we’re set to graduate this semester.  We’re thinking about getting a place in the city not too far from campus, probably with Brett and another friend of ours to save money on rent.  We’ll probably still throw parties every weekend like we used to.  College was such a memorable experience and I wish I could live it again.  I only have Nate, Brett, and all my other bros to thank for making college awesome for me.

#jock #jock bro #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #male hypnosis #male tf #male transformation #mental change #muscle tf #dumbing down #dumb jock #dumber #frat bro #frat #frat boy #muscle transformation #muscle #mental changes #nerd to jock #gay tf #gay jock #transformation #reprogramming #dumbification #college jock #personality change

[mimymomo]

In ‘Lucas on the Line,’ Lucas Sinclair experienced countless bouts of racism and micro aggressions including but not limited to:

Had children run away from him and refuse to touch him because they thought his Black skin color would rub off on them. This happened IN THE THIRD GRADE! And he never told his parents about it!

Calmed his anxiety about being the only Black kid in his homeroom class by coming to the realization that since there was no other Black kids that meant he most likely wouldn’t be bombed

Had to install a camera in his locker because his property got defaced by a glitter bomb

Lost his first and only black friend/mentor who supported him thanks to an ACTUAL MAKESHIFT BOMB being installed in his locker that caused a janitor to go to the hospital for 1st/2nd degree burns (and the white boy who did it barely got punished)

Got teased that the only reason he got on the basketball team was because he was Black

Comes to the realization that he might’ve actually only gotten in the team because the coach has a history of recruiting Black boys for the team regardless of their skill level

Gets called an Oreo (for uneducated: white on the inside, black on the outside) by racist bullies. Erica (who apparently has also been called this) sticks up for him and is the only one who understands what the insult means which means Mike and Dustin don’t know/understand the lengths of how deep the racism Lucas experiences in Hawkins on a daily bases

And these aren’t even all of them! These are just examples I had from the top of my head!

And despite all this happening in the book, “fans” have STILL FOUND A WAY to turn this book about Lucas and his struggles as a Black boy in a mostly white suburban town and his deteriorating relationship with Max and make it about Byler!

The fact that Lucas, one of the only characters of color on this show, can’t have ANYTHING to himself without people using him to push their ships is so aggravating!

He and Erica constantly get shit talked and miss characterized by fans, get excluded/cut out of group shots, and barely get any fanart/fics about them and their struggles compared to the white characters (I could make a whole new post about the terrible way this fandom treats Erica but I won’t do that here). Hell don’t forget that the fandom constantly tries to dispute the racism Lucas received in S2 from Billy was either not really racism, just a moment that Duffer Bros. put in to “ruin” Billy’s character and ultimately can be tossed out and ignored.

The only time I ever see Lucas get any large amount of attention is either due to 1) Lumax (but let’s be honest: 90% of the lumax tag on here isn’t even about them and has now become Elumax 2.0 and most post are people praising ElMax and then being like “oh Lucas/lumax is cute too” in the tags and that’s it). 2) people creating “parallels” of Lumax to their ship of choice (mostly Byler and Mileven) as a way to say that their ship is gonna be canon or 3) to say that he’s bisexual.

And all that is fine and whatever, ship and headcanon things to your hearts content, but if you only care about Lucas if he’s helping push you ship narrative or because you think he’s gay (to the point where some people actually read snippets of the book that talked about Lucas coming to the realization that Black boys like him can be considered attractive and only acknowledge the “queer” reading of the text and completely ignored the big race element that was the main focus), I’m sorry but, that’s not cool. The fact that 95% of the Lucas Sinclair tag isn’t about Lucas himself but white characters like Steve, Eddie, Byler says everything about how the fandom treats him.

I’m just so tired.

Lucas Sinclair deserves the same respect that the white characters get!

I leave you one of my favorite sections of the entire book: Lucas learning to become unabashedly himself:

Rant over.

Edit: in my blind rage I realized I forgot to edit out the Twitter handle. That’s completely my fault. Please don’t hate that Twitter user. I’m just coming back to fix that.

#stranger things #stranger things spoilers #lucas sinclair #lucas on the line #st season 4 #you know what? I AM gonna tag all the popular ships #if you clog the Lucas/lumax tags I’m gonna clog yours #Byler #steddie #mileven #steve harrington #eddie munson #will byers #mike wheeler #Lucas Sinclair deserves better #also stan lumax for clear skin

[lesbianslvt666]

Hey whats up?

You can imagine Ellie sulking because the reader goes to an all-girls sleepover - which she wasn't invited to - and she knows that some gay girls are going to be there and that makes her a little jealous and it only gets worse when she sees the reader wearing a short, tight, sexy nightgown making her horny and then she stops the reader from going to the party with a good fuck? top ellie pleaaase 🥵

Ummm… yes 🫡

Sorry for the delay love.

Cw: smut, 69, softdom!Ellie, pussy eating (both), fingering (r!) idk what else lol

Ellie saw you going from left to right and everywhere in your shared room, looking sometimes down to your wrist watch that she gifted you, just cause you mentioned you liked it.

Her body relaxed against the door frame, her eyes wondering all over your body, scanning all the ways you move underneath the very revealing nightgown, your curves highlighted by the dark and thin material, so sheer she could se your nipples poke thorough.

She was pissed to say the least.

First, your friends make sure to leave very clear that you weren’t allowed to bring Ellie to the sleep over.

Well not really… your friend group consisted of your closest friends, the same group the formed around third grade. you went way back, and for the weekend, all of you were at the same place at the same time, a rare occasion giving the fact that you went to different colleges.

When they organized the sleepover at Dinas house the rules were.

1: bring something to drink, thats why there was a Jose Cuervo bottle in your bag.

2: bring something to eat. Thats why there was an apple pie chilling in the kitchen, the house smelled amazing.

3: bring something to share. They really meant something to gossip about, but you had nothing on your plate so you took your can filled weed and a pretty pipe, some cigarettes too.

And last but no least.

No. Plus. Ones.

Only the og’s could be there.

At first to Ellie the plan seemed cute, how long have you guys met, how much you still loved one another.

Until she realized half your friend group is gay, her eyes opened wide. “Babe, you cannot go! There is gonna be gay girls there!” Her voice lowered like she was telling you a secrete and that made you laugh very hard.

Since then she has been trying to convince you not to go. Helping you do extra chores, fixing things around your shared apartment (that you had asked for her help and she was putting them off), bringing you flowers (which wasn’t anything new since she loved to bring you flowers)

Hell she even tried to call your brother for extra help!

Nothing worked.

you missed your friends and you wanted to be there with them, you knew the “gay girls” were no threat to your love for Ellie, they were basically your sisters!

But Ellie was so stubborn, you explained her every single time that she had nothing to worry about, not in the slightest!

And she was about to drop it, until now.

When she entered the room after you asked her to please take the pie off the oven, you had just came out of the shower and she had nothing else to do for the day.

After putting the pie on the counter and making sure the oven was off she walked to you room, messy clothes all over the floor and your hurried form running around it.

Her eyes went dark, lust filled eyes mixed with anger.

“Nothing to worry about? Looking like that?” She was walking up to you slowly, almost careful.

“Is it too much? I bought it and haven’t used it before, thought it was a good idea..” your voice trailed off when she grabbed you harshly by your hips.

Long fingers closing harshly at the plush skin.

“Please ill do whatever, whatever you want, just… let me…” she couldn’t finish her sentence, mouth connecting to your neck, you just looked like a goddess and she couldn’t resist to plead to you.

Knees falling carelessly on the ground, her hands going up and down your bare legs. Her pretty eyes looking from your sinful ones to your delicious core.

She felt delirious, exhausted on the feeling of not having you.

You couldn’t deny her when she looked up at you like that, pretty sprawled legs wanting to close for friction but she wouldn’t.

She knew you liked the view, and so she gave you more.

She peeled her hands, pain struck her cunt. Fingers grabbing the bottom of her tank top and pulling it off her body.

Her tits perking with the cold air of the room and you felt like you were gonna faint.

Her fingertips graced your skin, finally touching you again, no care where she was touching she just needed to be in contact with you.

Your mind was clouded on Ellie, lust filled senses and no other thought but to have her, you needed her.

She tried to stand up but you grabbed a bunch of her hair, she let out a groan as you pull her back down.

Acting like you could have racional thoughts at this moment you looked down to your wrist, pretending to read the time. “I am gonna be late for-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence with her lips latching on your thighs.

Marking and sucking as much as she could, she needed every person in the world to know you were hers.

“Please baby, please, let me taste you, stay the night with me…” she was shifting squirming while pleading you, and how could you not answer to her prayers…

Your hand tangled on her hair pushed her all the way in, lips like feathers tickling you lips covered by a pretty pair of panties than matched the night gown.

She moaned at the sight of your pretty lips tight on your panties, creamy anticipation leaving a wet spot on the fabric, she kissed one time thinking she could go slow with you.

But she couldn’t resist.

Her plump lips wet with your milky essence and she was done for.

Open mouth latching on your pussy, her hot tongue pressing around and sucking at it, but it wasn’t enough.

She hooked one of her fingers on your waist line, looking up at you but before she could ask for permission you spoke.

“Go on baby, please eat me, touch me. Fuck-“

Moany mess under her mouth now latched to your pussy, tongue circling your clit while she humped on the air.

So wet there was a spot forming on her gray sweats.

“Ellie, baby…” your voice was followed by your hand pulling her off your cunt, a desperate groan falling from her lips and you kneeled down to kiss her, she tried to pull you in, but you resisted.

You had a plan.

And she knew. Standing up she took you under your legs, you naturally jumped on her, intertwining your legs at her waist.

She kissed your neck leaving marks and kisses.

Putting you down on the bed while kneeling between your legs.

She looked down at you now, and anger seeped mixing with her lust.

“You slut… you were really gonna go almost naked to a sleep over with you “friends”?” Her voice lowered, you almost closed your legs together, her voice sending waves of heat down to your cunt and it made you buckle up your hips trying to reach her.

“No, ill give you what i want and you are gonna take it okay?” She said with one hand moving to your wrists, keeping them up and kissing you harshly, her demeanor changing.

Her movements were fast, mouth sucking on your tongue, her hips humping on to you and you felt like you were going crazy.

Rough fingers falling to your cunt, inserting the middle one without previous notice.

Spongy walls clenching around her.

And like something snapped on her mind she stopped.

Taking her sweats and boxers off with a swift motion she propped herself on top of you, body facing yours.

Her cunt right on top of your face.

“You are gonna eat me until i tell you to stop” your hands sneakered on her legs, like snakes bringing her closer to your face, she didn’t waste no time to use your pretty mouth to please herself.

Your legs spread on the bed while you squirmed, her cream all over your face and her moans made you almost cum.

She couldn’t resist, the way she could see the glistening wetness pooling on your precious cunt.

One hand fell to your pretty pussy, spreading your lips to watch you, flushed and hot cunt pulsating and gushing for her, you were torturous, her body falling forward while you ate her like a starved woman.

Her lips connected to your cunt again, she was unable to refrain from being there, you were magnetic, and she loved the way you taste.

I was gonna continue this but i hit writers block again :)) gonna go insane.

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #lesbian #the last of us #wlw #wlw smut #smut #mean!ellie

[n0vabug]

Sleeping and Bowling

Summary: Reader sleeps in and Maddy skips school to go to her house, they cuddle, go bowling, yk that kind of stuff.

This was a request btw :)

Warnings: None, it's all fluff :) Words: 1.3k

THIRD PERSON POV

Maddy walked into school that morning and immediately went to her girlfriend's locker, like normal. Maddy waited and waited. No (Y/N). She thought it was kind of weird since (Y/N) rarely ever missed school. Even though she wouldn't say it out loud at the moment, she was a bit worried that (Y/N) hadn't bolted through the school doors to hug her. Maddy eventually walked away, she went to look for Jules to ask her if she knew where (Y/N) was. It turns out (Y/N) was actually perfectly fine. She was just overslept that morning and when she woke up, she just decided to stay home since she would've been late anyways. Jules and (Y/N) had always been close. Jules was the second person (Y/N) came out too and also the second person who knew (Y/N) liked Maddy, but the first, was Lexi. (Y/N) was also pretty close to Lexi as they both had similar personalities. Lexi and (Y/N) had been friends since primary school (first grade to be specific). Lexi knew about (Y/N) liking Maddy since they started High school, and the second Maddy and (Y/N) started dating, Lexi was thrilled, like jumping up and down and continuously hugging (Y/N).

"Hey bitch, do you know where my Girlfriend is?" Maddy asked the blonde

"Yeah, she just texted me and said that she slept in today so she's just saying home." Jules responded and chuckled a bit at the end. She found it kind of funny since (Y/N) never sleeps in and is always on time.

"I'm gonna kill her." Maddy said obviously joking, which made Jules laugh.

Maddy decided to leave school and spend the day with her girlfriend, she wanted to take her bowling that night, and maybe watch a movie with her, Maddy literally wanted to do anything with her. They both really loved each other, (Y/N) was always doing kind gestures, showing Maddy every love language and giving Maddy all her love. Maddy on the other hand loved it, she was more of a physical touch quality time of person though, but every time (Y/N) showed any type of love to Maddy, she always said, "Ew (Y/N), that's like really gay." after that, (Y/N) would just give Maddy a look of confusion and say, "Aren't you literally gay?" The first that time Maddy did this, (Y/N) didn't realize she was joking and was upset because she thought Maddy didn't want to be with her, which led Maddy into explaining that it was all a big joke and she didn't mean it and a lot of cuddles and kisses from her. Maddy obviously wasn't homophobic, she never has been.

Maddy left the school and immediately drove to (Y/N's) place. Maddy got to her house, walked up to the door and knocked. (Y/N's) mom answered the door, she was one of the nicest people Maddy had met, next to (Y/N) of course.

"Oh hi Maddy!"

"Hello Mrs. (L/N), is (Y/N) here?" Maddy questioned the older woman

"Yep, she overslept, but she is just hanging out in her room if you want to come in. Do you need anything?" (Y/N's) mom said while opening the door more so Maddy could come inside.

"No I'm fine, thank you though!" Maddy said with a smile on her face. (Y/N) and her mom were both genuinely nice people, that's what Maddy liked about there house, it was sweet.

Maddy knocked on (Y/N's) door, and before (Y/N) could even say "come in", Maddy had already walked in.

"Oh hey Mads, I didn't know you were-" Maddy cut (Y/N) off by pressing a soft kips to her lips, but sadly, the kiss didn't last long. "Well, that's one way to say hello" said (Y/N) laughing.

"Well if I'm being completely honest, you make it very hard for me to like not miss you." Said Maddy, and before (Y/N) could get a word out, Maddy spoke up again. "Oh also tonight, you should like totally come bowling with me, Kat, Ethan, and Jules, and then you and me come back to your house and have a sleepover, if it's okay with you."

"That sounds like a great idea, also you basically live here, Mads, and I love it when you stay, you don't have to ask me." (Y/N) said with a smile. Maddy just smiled and admired her girlfriend for a minute before cupping her cheeks and pulling her in for another kiss, this time one that lasted a bit longer, Maddy melted into this kiss as she felt the warmth of her girlfriends lips flow perfectly against her lips. After a few minutes they both pulled away, out of breath.

"Come on let's get ready for tonight."

"We still have 7 hours Maddy."

"Well I want to make sure we both look perfect and I want to do your makeup." Maddy said with a grin on. her face

"You know I don't like a ton of makeup Mads." (Y/N) responded "Why don't we like relax for a bit before getting ready, we don't need 7 hours."

"Ugh fine, can I do a little makeup at least, also if we're relaxing then we're cuddling." Maddy said with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Fine you can do a little bit of makeup." (Y/N) said which made Maddy smile. (Y/N) laid down and patted the spot next to her for Maddy. Maddy laid on (Y/N's) chest and buried her head in the crook of (Y/N's) neck. Maddy's arms were around (Y/N's) waist while (Y/N's) arms were on Maddy's back. The two laid like this for a while until they both fell asleep.

(Y/N) woke up and immediately panicked, not knowing what time it was and not realizing they both fell asleep. "Shit, shit, shit" she said, which woke Maddy up.

"What time is it?" (Y/N) asked in a panicked voice which worried Maddy a bit.

"Calm down baby, it's only 12:14." Maddy responded in a reassuring voice, which caused (Y/N) to let out a heavy breath that she didn't realize she was holding in, showing that she was relived.

"Wait, how the hell did we sleep for 4 hours." (Y/N) asked confused

"I don't know, but let's get ready, bowling is at 5."

"Okay Mads, we can get ready." (Y/N) said with a smile and kissed Maddy's forehead.

~~~Really short time-skip~~~

The two girls changed into their outfits, Maddy finished her makeup, and was adding finishing touches to (Y/N's), she was sitting down while Maddy straddled her lap.

"Can I add diamonds to it?"

"Sure, why not." (Y/N) said smiling

Maddy put a few diamonds on (Y/N's) face and smiled as she added the last one. "Okay, I'm done, what do you think?" Maddy moved off of (Y/N) as she got up and walked towards the mirror.

"You know, I'm not the biggest fan of makeup, but when you do it, I love it." (Y/N) said which made Maddy smile and pull her into a warm embrace.

"Come on let's go." Maddy said while grabbing her bag and intertwining her hand with (Y/N's) and dragging her to the car.

Maddy was always the one driving, she loved to treat (Y/N) like the passenger princess, Maddy loved to give her the aux, which is rare because Maddy doesn't even let Kat or Cassie (when they were still friends) control the music, but she loves (Y/N) so it didn't matter.

Both girls had arrived, they met up with Kat, Jules, and Ethan, they went bowling for a couple hours until they eventually were tired of it. Maddy and (Y/N) parted ways with the others and drove back to (Y/N's) house. They both took showers, put their pajamas on, and did whatever they had to do to get ready for bed. (Y/N) let Maddy pick a movie as they both laid on her bed, in the same position they were earlier. Maddy couldn't even see the movie because of the position she was in, but she didn't care.

"Hey, Mads?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you"

"I love you too (Y/N)" Maddy says, as she leans up and kisses (Y/N) on the forehead.

A/N I DON'T KNOW IF THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED AND STUFF BUT HERE IT IS. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THEN JUST LMK AND TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT ME TO FIX :). I HAD FUN WRITING THIS THOUGH. LMK IF YOU HAVE ANY MORE REQUESTS, THEY ARE ALWAYS OPEN AND IM LIKE NEVER BUSY EVER 😭😭. BUT YEAH LMK IF YOU WANT ANYTHING TO BE FIXED IN THIS OR IF ITS NOT WHAT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR.

#maddy perez x reader #maddy perez #cassie howard x reader #jules vaughn x reader #kat hernandez x reader #lexi howard x reader #rue bennet x reader #euphoria

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for telling on a classmate??

(tw for homophobia and antisemitism)

🪻

(emoji so i can recognise it)

this is like really long, im sorry, i tend to ramble.

also my native language isnt english so i translated a few words i didnt really know with google translate which may be unreliable (talking specifically abt supervising teacher here, but i explained what it means just in case)

also i use all pronouns, listed my gender here as 'idk', so putting this here to clear it up

ok so this might sound really dumb but listen, in my (15idk) class there is this one guy, lets call him wit (15m) and ever since we started high school he's been really troublesome for other people. for further context hes very strongly catholic and frequently talks about his political opinions.

many students of our scholl agree that this would not be much of a problem if he kept at least some respect for others while doing it. wit is infamous in our school for making extremely homophobic and antisemetic comments, ranging from usage of derogatory language and insulting a guy in our class because he's partially ethnically jewish, to stating that homosexuality and transgenderism is mental illness, to saying gays should get shot, making up crazy statistics about pedophilia in the lgbtq+ community and taking a photo of himself doing the nazi salute while holding the flag of the third reich (we live in a country very heavily affected by the holocaust to this day. jesus christ dude). (note that our school has a quite large number of queer people so making these comments in such a public space is already a bit iffy imo.) he also states his opinions as fact, and when somebody tries to debate him on these things (he claims he's up for it) he keeps interrupting them, and in some cases calls them an idiot.

wit actually was in another class before, he switched to ours because his classmates and supervising teacher (translation might be wrong, went off google translate - i mean the teacher held responsible for what the kids in their class do) couldn't stand him (there are rumors that he tried to sue her actually?). our supervising teacher (29m) is well aware of this.

today, he was grading us on our behavior (idk if american schools do this?? it has to end up on our report cards at the end of the year here, we're graded once per semester) and the topic of wit's behavior came up. the day before this, he had gotten into an argument with this one girl, let's call her gabby (15f), because she had 'taken his seat' in our physics class (we don't have assigned seats, and the teacher invited a few kids from another class to write some missed assignments, so there were more students than chairs). wit started off calm, when gabby told him she was there first, he got mad and started shouting at her, and when she didn't want to give up her seat for him (she was calm about this!), he started to attempt to physically get her off the seat by pulling or pushing her off. as far as i know, three people in our class recorded this exchange.

wit got graded 5/6 for his behavior (very good) after our teacher vowed to lower it because of the amount of complaints he was getting about his behavior. this was before our teacher found out about yesterday's situation. today we had two classes with him and he was going to dedicate both to talking about our behavior grades, so we told him about how wit acted yesterday. our teacher was reasonably a little pissed at wit for getting physical, as well as shouting at a classmate. wit tried to defens himself saying he was calmly telling 'this unruly, undeserving of such respect girl' to piss off, but as i said, several people in our class had video evidence of what he did.

the conversation quickly shifted from just the fight in physics to wit's respect for others (or, more appropriately, the lackthereof). this is when his rampant homophobia was brought up. several people in our class voiced their concerns about how most of us feel really uncomfortable when this dude's out there wishing death on all queers. our teacher was really mad at him for continuing making his homophobia this public when he was already repeatedly told that he makes people uncomfortable with it. we also brought up him calling people who dare not have the same beliefs as him idiots and left-wingers (as an?? insult??).

wit's behavior grade was changed to 4/6 (good)

after class, our class president (15f) and i went up to our teacher to show him screenshots of wit being transphobic, not to humiliate him further, but to provide proof of the claims about him still openly hating the lgbtq.

wit seemed to notice this because a few hours after school he texted me to talk about this situation. it started with him being frustrated about getting a 4, then saying he believes he should get at LEAST a 5 (note: he cited 'i respect others' as a reason, lol) and then it very quickly spiraled into him shit-talking gabby and our class president (he called gabby 'wild' and our prez toxic). i told him that he should be happy hes only being graded based on two months (our teacher said he's only taking the time wit was in our class into account, imo this isnt fair at all but ok), when his behavior was somehow better here than previously and that the girls deserved their grades (gabby got a 5, prez got a 6, both are very helpful and in my experience very kind people) and that the reason his grade was lowered was because of the lack of respect for others he was demonstrating right in that moment. he then said i was fake and called me a kabel (polish slang for snitch basically)

i talked to my parents about today, and they said wit is a bad person, but is in the right in my conversation with him. i disagree tbh but im also not entirely convinced im right either because i might have taken it a bit far, but idk, aita??

also im so so so sorry this ended up being ao long, i didn't realize how chaotic this story is until i wrote it all down lol

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[ashecampos]

The ‘heart breaker’ and the ‘self centred’

Janis ‘Imi’ike x reader

Warnings : corse language, mention of past breakups. Enemies to lovers??maybe

(I’m so sorry if this is bad, I am currently high on pain and cold meds to try and get over this flu I have <3 also pls ignore how it switches from 1st to 3rd person so much)

You had heard the rumors about the infamous north shore high, everyone had. Little did you know, you would soon be apart of one of these rumors.

Moving schools was not on your list for the things you expected from the year. You had officially been expelled from your last school due to an incident that was not at all your fault. Now all you had to do was survive senior year at a new school where you only knew two people, one being your best friend, the other being a person you hated with your entire being. Janis ‘Imi’ike.

You and Janis go way back. Like as in third grade. You hated her and she hated you, end of story. Or was it?

It was now Sunday night, you and your best friend Tessa are on FaceTime and she is getting you up to speed with the north shore gossip.

“Soo Regina and the plastics aren’t bitches anymore, everyone is friends like in middle school and there isn’t much drama. Got it?” She says finishing her rant. A pen and paper in her hand with a map of all the drama you had missed on it.

“Mh everyone is queer, no drama, Janis still hates me, Regina isn’t a mega bitch, you and Aaron are fucking and me now starting fresh at your school totally isn’t going to cause any drama at all. Gotcha” I say while grabbing more paint from a shelf at the store. She nods silently then going on another rant about how Aaron and Shane are going to make a group chat with everyone im going to meet tomorrow in it, I nod while walking around. Until I bump into someone, their notepad nearly dropping to the floor but i managed to catch it somehow. Apologising profusely i look the person in the eye and my heart stops, blood running cold. Not even a foot away stands Janis ‘Imi’ike in all her glory. I stand there for a few seconds, the notepad held out for her to take but it seems that she is having the same reaction to this awfully awkward situation. She takes a second to scoff before grabbing the notepad and walking past, our shoulders brushing past each other “since when did you move back to Evanston?”she mutters before vanishing to the next isle. What the fuck.? Of all people you could’ve ran into it had to be her didn’t it? You thought “you did not just literally bump into she who shan’t be named” Tessa interrupts your thoughts to only add onto the embarrassment your feeling. “Shut the fuck up tess” i say as the girl on the other end of the call is in the middle of a laughing fit. I speed walk to the cash register and pay for my supplies before practically sprinting home. Anything to get away from Janis before I have to put up with her for the rest of the school year.

The night went quicker than I’d like to admit, I painted a little, lost track of time and ended up dozing off with my head on my desk. The next day came and I now stand in my closet, Tessa stood with me looking for the appropriate outfit that doesn’t scream ‘I got suspended from my last school and I don’t want to be at this school’. “Hm how about this” she picks up a pink shirt earning a disgusted look from me. She groans putting the T-shirt back and sitting on my bed and shrugging “just wear a band tee or something” she says. “Just wear a band tee or something” I mock while grabbing some baggy jeans from my closet, I scan my shirts before smirking and grabbing a button up shirt and a vest. “Gay” Tessa shouts at me, laughing and pointing at my doc martens “wear those” she says with a smirk.

The thing is me and Tessa are polar opposites, shes the most girly girl you will ever meet. Whereas I look like I just stepped out of a hot topic store. She was apart of the plastics before project ‘destroy queen bee’ was put into motion. She had stated many times how much she despised what Cady done to Regina. And even though I wasn’t apart of the school or had no reason to know the drama or what went down, oh she kept me updated. I even went to see Regina after she was hit by the bus. Which got me an one way ticket to Regina’s good side. You see being friends with Tessa can be a struggle seeming that she is the popular it girl, or the girl next door per say, however o wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Oi y/n/n Shane is making the group chat now, then we are going to meet up with everyone at the front of the school”

Moments after she said that my phone vibrates, I look at it while changing into my jeans.

*Shane Oman added you into ‘norths-whores hottest’ groupchat* I laugh a little at the name, so does Tessa as she starts typing away.

(NORTH-WHORES HOTTEST)

Tessi 🪽: “hey bitches!! ready to meet north shores newest hottie?”

(8am)

Reginald 💁‍♀️ : “as long as it doesn’t cause me to get hit with a bus this time”

Kay-dee ✨ : “I told you I was sorry for that reg”

Karen 💁🏽‍♀️ : “wait we have a new kid?”

Gretch 🪬: “yeah Tessa’s mysterious best friend is transferring because they got suspended from their last school”

Y/n/n 🌺: “should I be concerned how much you already know about me? Also hey guys”

Shane💪🏽: “don’t worry it’s her thing”

Reginald 💁‍♀️ : “well then congratulations and welcomes are in order, speaking of orders what coffees does everyone want im making a pitstop at Starbucks”

Gretch💁🏽‍♀️ : “ooo I’ll have a Strawberry Acai Refresher and Karen will have a hot coco, thanks babe”

Shane💪🏽 : “caramel latte thx Reggie”

Tessi🪽: “hot coco for me too babe”

“Oh and y/n/n said they will have a iced chai with oat milk and brown sugar syrup and they said thankyou”

*Reginald 💁‍♀️liked tessi’s🪽message*

You where now driving both you and Tessa to the school, your palms where beyond sweaty and you felt the lump in your throat grow worse the closer you got to the school. Tessa was sat in the passenger seat belting out show tunes, as you guys did every day in the car. It was settling your nerves a little as you clutched the steering wheel, keeping your eyes on the road.

You pull up to the school with Tessa’s help as she directs you to where the parking lot is then directs you where to park. You see Regina’s pink jeep and Shane’s black Tesla parked next to each other so you park next to Shane upon Tessa’s request. The two of you get out of the car, simultaneously grabbing your bags and linking arms, you softly nudge her and put your sunglasses on, sniggering slightly “hey, we’re gonna rule the school” you say quoting grease like you do every year “hm yeah and how’s that went the past ten years you’ve said that?” She nudges you back cocking one of her brows “okay rude, but in my defence we haven’t been in the same school the past four years” you point at her “well let’s make this one count” she says before waving at a group who you recognise to be the infamous plastics and shane.

“Soo you must be y/n, god Tessa wasn’t lying your banging” Shane comes over, his hand outstretched for you to take, you press you hand against his and hug him, eventually letting go of the hug, he hands you your drink while another set of arms wrap around your torso making you laugh “hey Karen, I missed you too” you laugh hugging her with one arm while you hold your cup in the other. She looks up adorable as ever and smiles widely, seconds later her face drops “OH MY GOD YOU GOT A MULLET” she screams, pulling away, almost knocking your drink out of your hand, you laugh even harder as she runs her fingers through your hair, admiring the shaven sides of your head. “You like?” You say, she nods before unhanding you, she turns to another girl who you assume to be Karen’s girlfriend, Gretchen, the girl is pretty, clad in an academic fitting outfit, a plaid beige skirt and a white turtleneck, she was one of the prettiest girls here, she smiles at you, giving you a simple nod. You walk over and hug her, you then turn to Regina who practically tackles you in a hug. “Who’d you fight to get expelled this time?” She whispers into your ear making you smirk “legally I can’t say but don’t worry they got what they deserved” you say as you hug her back. She slaps your shoulder and gives you a stern look “no more fighting or I will make your life a living hell” she smirks back at you.

After a brief catchup you head to the principals office to grab your paper work and schedule which was only a quick pitstop due to the fact that you had been there yesterday to hand all your paperwork over to secure your place at the school. Once you got your schedule you went straight to home room which was your first class of the day, looking down at your schedule, you walk straight into the back of someone. “Dude watch where your- oh you have got to be fucking with me now” the person says just as you open your mouth to apologise.

There in front of you stands an angered Janis ‘Imi’ike, her face drops seeing you for a second time this week. She rolls her eyes “are you following me or some shit?” She says, earning an eye roll from you “oh ku'uipo, don’t flatter yourself, my world doesn’t revolve around you” you say while walking around the girl and into your home room class, she stays stood in the doorway for another moment seeming to be frozen in place before she snaps out of whatever trance you had managed to put her in and she then walks inside the room, taking the last available seat, the one in front of you. Just before she sits herself down you manage to catch a glimpse of her face, red with a bit of a flustered expression. You grin a little acknowledging the fact you still had that affect on her after so many years.

Home room drags, the teacher is sweet though, she introduces you to everyone and proudly embarrasses you by telling the class you won the state art competition last fall which in turn earns a look from Janis who’s eyes have never left you since the teacher pulled you to the front of the class. As soon as the bell chimes your out of there having endured enough embarrassment for one person to handle. You make it your mission to get out before Janis can. I then go looking for my next class. Chemistry. You walk in expecting to be in a class full of randos but to your surprise and dismay you walk into the class to find the class full of your newfound friend group and Janis. Of course. The teacher strides in pointing at the whiteboard where a seating chart is etched into. You look for your name as the rest of your group goes and sits down, you smirk a little when you see that you are all on one table. Not bothering to look who else is on the table you go sit without hesitation. “So how was everyone’s first class?” You start, everyone groans seeming to already be put off only an hour into the week. “Oh I have some gossip for ya..oh hey Janis” Gretchen says which makes your face drop. You whip your head around praying it’s not the Janis you think it is, yet there she stands. All colour drains from your face, you look at Tessa for help but she is too busy trying not to die of laughter. Regina seems to have a similar reaction to yours with the girl being at the same table. And yet again much to your dismay the girl sits next to you, slamming her book down and looking at the front of the class toward the teacher. “Hello students, my name is Mr Jenkin and im your chemistry teacher. So seeming that we are in chemistry I like to have all the students on the same tables to have a lot of chemistry. Today’s class revolves around getting to know your groups. So one person from each table grab a deck and we shall play charades” the teacher says as he throws like seven decks of small card on his desk with a smile. Oh now this one is cute, he seems a little too nice for his own good, especially in this school.

Regina takes it upon herself to go grab the cards, taking the rubber band off of them and flicking it at Tessa who flips her off with a laugh. “I guess I’ll start then” she says reading the first card. She snickers a little before looking around the table and pointing at Aaron. “Boy?” He says straight away, Regina then shakes her head but stops and waves her hand around to say that he was right but she needs another word. She then points at her head earning a few weird looks from the table, it took me a few seconds to click on but I quickly realised what she was getting at “boy genius” I mutter quietly not being too sure on if I was right but she smiles and nods, holding her arm out to make me stand up as she hands me the cards. “Who’s boy genius?” Karen says with a big smile “an amazing band” both me and Janis say in sync earning a look from everyone in the group, I look at Janis before looking down at the card that says ‘love’ I roll my eyes and groan a little, I put my hand over my heart looking around the group to see if anyone will click on “heart?” Tessa says first, I shake my head and another idea pops into my head, I make a heart with my hands while looking around again. “Heartbreaker?” Janis mutters, earning looks from the group again, I sigh and shake my head before Tessa swoops in and says “love” which o nod to. She grins and gets up, allowing me to sit back down. A few more rounds go by and it is now Janis’ turn. She stands up brushing by me and picks the cards off of the table, she looks down for a few seconds before she points at herself making me snigger again. “Self centered?” I say proudly earning a slap from Tessa who scolds me silently. Janis snaps back “don’t make me tell your new little friends who you really are because believe me I will” she stares into my soul, my fists clenching under the table, I take a deep breath before shaking my head and grabbing my bag and leaving, hearing the group calling after me and Tessa saying “seriously Janis is there any need? She didn’t mean what happened” the teacher then calls after me before asking what everyone on the table what the hell happened. Tessa thankfully made and excuse as Janis also left the classroom.

I end up in the bathroom, slamming my fist against the wall of one of the stalls. Before wincing in pain instantly. I throw my bag and slide down the wall so I am sat down with my knees to my chest. The door to the bathroom then opens and in walks Janis. She sees me and walks over crouching down so she in face to face with me. She hesitates for a few seconds before placing her finger under my chin and making me look up at her. “Hey breathe for me yeah?” She says in a calm, knowing tone. My breath hitches a little before it picks itself up again, I struggle to breathe earning a concerned look. She tries talking to me again but it falls on death ears. I look around the bathroom frantically trying to find something to help myself, then out of the blue I feel a pair of lips on my own. Her lips. The lips that had been tormenting my dreams for the past five years. She pulls away after a few moments which felt like a lifetime. She looks at me before assuringly repeating what she said before “im sorry for what I said. I know it wasn’t your fault, im just still not over it..over us” she looks down before going to stand up, I quickly use my uninjured hand to pull her back into me, we share another kiss until the bathroom door swings open. Revealing the whole friend group.

#reader insert #x y/n #janis imike #mean girls #meangirls2024 #tess and y/n #janis ‘imi’ike x reader #janis ‘imi’ike #janis imi'ike #im back #meet the plastics

[barcodeboyz]

My top 10 favorite South Park episodes, no one asked but here we go

10. With Apologies to Jesse Jackson

This is a controversial episode to put here because of how offensive it is, and truthfully, I didn't care too much for the A plot. But the B-plot makes up for it. Watching Cartman and a Midget fight to Get Down with the Sickness is so hilariously absurd.

9. You're Getting Old/Ass Burgers

This is the second/third episode I remember watching before I got into the show. I included them both in one spot because Ass Burgers is a continuation of You're Getting Old, but each have their own separate charm. I definitely shed a tear when Stan moved out to Fleetwood Mac's Landslide and split my sides laughing as Kyle yelled at Cartman for sticking the burgers up his ass. I also heavily relate to Stan's meltdown in class in Ass Burgers, because that's real emotion. An amazing storyline overall.

8. Make Love, Not Warcraft

I mentioned that the previous two episodes were some of my first episodes, but not THE first episode. That title goes to this episode. When I was born, my brother was 15, and as I grew up, I often watched him play World of Warcraft. So this episode is very nostalgic to me, not just because him and I watched it but because as someone who plays WOW nowadays (very inconsistently), it's so nostalgic to see how much has changed.

7. The Losing Edge

This is just a classic episode. The boys don't want to participate in baseball and try to get out of it by losing, but the other teams have the same idea. I think we all know who the real star of the episode is: Randy. I thought this was America!

6. Trapped in the Closet

Subtlety is completely ignored in this episode. As Stan is praised as the reincarnation of L. Ron Hubbard, his comments about Tom Cruise send him literally into the closet. I think my favorite bit in the episode is R. Kelly's Trapped in the Closet verses, specifically when he pulls out a gun in Stan's room and everyone in the hallway runs away.

5. Major Boobage

This episode is... beautiful. The animation is impressive, and the story is hilarious as well. Kenny and Gerald cheesing and then getting into a fight, Cartman reliving the Holocaust with the cats, and the funny ass press conference given just solidify this episode as legendary.

4. Le Petit Tourette

This episode introduced my favorite one-off character, Thomas. But even more than that, it gave us a great story and a chance for us to see Cartman's plan blow up in his face. While it ultimately never came to fruition due to Kyle's actions, it's satisfying to know that he definitely revealed a deep secret or two in exchange for almost slandering minority groups on national TV.

3. Follow That Egg

I have vague memories of watching this episode as a kid, but I don't consider it as one of my firsts because I could only really recall them running through the crowd trying to save their grade. But it's a fantastic episode. Ms. Garrison's attempts to stop gay marriage from being legalized, to Stan's comical bitterness towards Kyle and Wendy, it all comes together and compliments each other well.

2. D-Yikes!

I didn't expect to get so personal on a South Park top 10 list, but it's the honest truth. South Park became a major comfort for me after my assault. And this was the first episode I watched that made me burst out laughing since the attack; Ms. Garrison screaming "scissor me timbers!" has got to be one of the funniest lines in the show's history. And overall, it's just a fun episode to watch.

1. Guitar Queero

This is an underrated masterpiece of an episode that more people should watch. The plot of the episode feels so fluid, and everything about it makes sense to me. The rise to stardom, falling to drugs (well, video games about drugs), losing it all and returning to give it one final shot just encompasses what South Park can really do when given the right tools. Maybe I'm biased because Season 11 is my favorite season, but something about this episode just really scratches my brain.

Anyways, that's my list! Thanks all for reading.

#south park #south park kyle #south park stan #south park cartman #south park kenny #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #eric cartman #kenny mccormick

[therainscene]

I’ve been rolling the Mike thinks Will is in love with El theory around in my head some more. I like it, but it’s not without its flaws.

One especially damning counter-argument a few folks have brought up is that Mike heard Will refer to himself as El’s brother at the police station:

Will’s line contrasts Jonathan’s earlier “I’m her brother... uh, step-brother...”, indicating that Will has fully embraced her as family where Jon doesn’t quite see her that way yet.

It’s a great point. The only justification I’ve seen for it is that Mike wasn’t put off from kissing El after he’d already implied he wanted to be her brother... but that doesn’t wash with me. Just because he had no idea how to reconcile his feelings with heteronormative expectations at 12 doesn’t mean he's still clueless at 15.

So let’s give him some credit and try a different angle: When we step outside of the Byers POV, Will’s line is actually quite ambiguous.

The unsympathetic receptionist refused to let them see El on the grounds they weren’t a parent or legal guardian, so Will jumped in with an argument he hoped would win her over: we’re her legal next of kin. He’s just saying whatever he thinks will grant them access to El -- there’s no reason it has to be reflective of his true feelings.

After all, it’s not as though Will “be gay do crime” Byers has any qualms about being dishonest with authorities when it suits him.

Mike was present for both of the above moments, so he definitely knows this about Will. And this is only one piece of evidence amongst many -- the rest of it is undeniably suggesting that Will’s in love with one half of Milevn:

Will’s been acting weird in a likes-someone way around El;

Will sulked at Rink-o-Mania over getting third-wheeled by Milevn and rarely took his eyes off El;

Will is always eager to talk about El and brings her up in conversations with Mike more than Mike does;

Will hinted that he was hiding an uncomfortable secret from Mike in the scrapyard heart-to-heart;

Will is the more trustworthy party in the “maybe it is for [someone he likes]”/“El commissioned it” painting lie conflict;

Will was on the verge of tears the whole time he was pushing Mike back into El’s arms in the van and the pizzeria.

It’s obvious to the audience what conclusion to draw here because we had the benefit of seeing it all through Will’s sad gay puppy eyes...

...But Mike is forced to assess the evidence through his own biased POV.

This kid has severe self-worth issues, which are tied up in his feelings for El, which are in turn tied up in heteronormativity. It’s also been hinted that he has depression -- messy room, slipping grades, parallels with Max -- an illness that’s notorious for twisting your thought processes into the most pessimistic directions possible.

So while Mike may very well suspect the truth, I’m not sure he’s in the right headspace to accept it. There’s a good chance he’s torn between the two interpretations:

Will likes El: Mike is forced to choose between making Will happy vs. holding on to the one thing that makes him feel like he has value. But he can tell that El doesn’t need him anymore, and he couldn’t live with himself if he hurt Will... after all, aren’t a straight boy’s feelings more important than some pathetic queer who’s lying to himself?

Will likes Mike: Mike gets to make Will happy and he gets to make himself happy. Letting go of El might be difficult, but he knows she’ll be fine without him, and Will has already proven that his unbridled love can help Mike see his inherent self-worth -- a much healthier approach than tying his self-worth up in being someone’s boyfriend.

The first interpretation reinforces Mike’s heteronormative beliefs and ensures he continues to feel worthless, whereas the second allows him to feel hope that things can get better.

Which interpretation would a depressed brain find more appealing? Or, more to the point, since Stranger Things tends to explore these struggles through metaphor--

--which interpretation would give Mr. Everyone-is-Just-Waiting-For-it-All-To-Be-Over an opportunity to break through Mike’s defenses?

#stranger things #willelmike #byler #willel #elmike #mike wheeler #will byers #el hopper #my analysis

[chaoscriess]

Do you write maddy perez x reader. Can you do from enemies to lovers with maddy where maddy was secretly in love with reader the whole time but she wanted to get reader's attention by being mean to her xoxo

oh absolutely. I love this idea sm

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒! cussing, insults, reader slaps maddy, kissing, maddy calls reader a homophobic slur >:(, kinda angsty?

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒! on mobile, format might be weird. lowercase intended, unedited, double periods intended

maddy perez x enemy!fem!reader

for as long as you could remember, you had hated maddy perez.

and as far as you knew, she hated you too.

every day, she would go out of her way to shut your locker as soon as you opened it, humiliate you in front of the whole school, and say horrible things to you. she would call you a slut, a whore, and.. a fag.

it hurt. a lot.

she made your life miserable.

and the truth is, you didnt really even hate her

since you first saw her in third grade, you've had a massive crush on the girl, even if you didnt notice it until the next year.

the thing is, she never noticed you.

until fifth grade, when your 'friend' told her that you said she was cute

she took about a day to think about it

and then she started insulting you, saying it was gross that you like girls

she was relentless

until one day when you two were arguing about how she treated you

you had enough. she told you,"you're fucking disgusting! I hope you, and all the other girls you've fucked, go to hell!"

so you slapped her, really fucking hard

you expected her to hit you back, but she didnt.

instead, you saw tears well up in her eyes as she held her cheek in amazement, and she turned around and walked away.

you thought it was weird, why was she acting like that when she was the one that said all those horrible things?

well you see, maddy never meant what she said about you.

in reality, she liked girls too, she just didnt know it yet.

she thought she was gross for thinking about you the way she did.

and when maddy went home that night, she went to her computer and opened google

yeah she definitely took an 'am I gay?' test

or like 17 of them

the results were.... well......

yeah she was gay

like really gay

like.. 'adopting a ton of cats and living in a cottage in the forest with her girlfriend' gay

so, naturally, she avoided everyone for like, three weeks.

but eventually she had to go back to school

and see you

when you saw maddy at school, your heart broke. she looked horrible, like she was two seconds away from dropping dead right in front of you. you didnt regret slapping her, but you couldn't stand seeing her like that so you walked to her locker and asked her if she was alright. she didnt answer you, but she did ask you something.

"do you really like me? like actually?". you were scared, was this just an evil ploy so she could humiliate you once again? you pushed aside your worried thoughts and nodded with your eyes glued to the ground. she let out a small 'wow' and stepped towards you. you looked up in fear, expecting her to hit you, yell at you, anything. but she didnt. instead, she smiled at you and you noticed her red face. she looked to the side and began speaking.

"I um, I'm really sorry.. the only reason I said those things is because.. well, I really like you, I guess. and, like, I guess I was just really jealous of all the other girls you've been with. I didnt even know I was... gay..". you stared at the side of her face with wide eyes, you couldn't believe what she was saying. "you're lying, maddy. I don't believe you." she looked at you and frowned, seeming to be thinking for a moment. she replaced her frown with a slight smile before placing her lips on yours, pulling you closer to her and kissing you gently.

it was hard for her to get used to dating you, a girl, and it was hard for you to get used to all the positive attention all the time

of course, some people weren't happy about your relationship (ahem ahem, nate.)

but you didnt care, maddy was finally yours.

#euphoria x reader #maddy perez x reader #chaos' army #chaos calling! #maddy perez fic #maddy perez #maddy x reader

[lucidfairies]

hi 🫡

. yes that is me embarrassing the shit outta myself (I actually sent that to a handful of girls)

i. for those of you who may not know, i'm maya. i'm 18, i'm typically a masculine presenting lesbian and I happen to be a she/her. I also am unfortunately asexual

• everyone meat riding rn about why I read and write so much smut as an asexual, I would love for you to know that I'm fighting a losing battle with hypersexuality! that is all I will be sharing on that matter thank you. •

ii. I'm proficient at finding people's instas whether they wanna be found or not!! if this relates to you, you may want to hmu.

iii. um I'm single if that wasn't clear from the kicker.

iv. I have severe Audhd and I have OCD but I don't really count that because you can't really tell it's there. I'm a POTS and scoliosis survivor

(can u tell idk what the hell I'm doing)

v. I will drop my socials if you so want them but I would prefer u DM me cuz I don't need my public insta in tumblr comments tbh (I have insta, tiktok, discord, snap, so on so forth)

vi. I'm still in high school LMAOOO pls I'm not less than eighteen guys don't worry but I aspire to be in the military but I'm taking a gap year

vii. I've been writing since like third grade but over quarantine my parents kinda banished me to our basement and I was doing a lot of things I shouldn't have been doing but now I'm sorta good at writing !!

viii. fics are kinda a side gig, I do write real shit here and there but there's genuinely no point so idk why I do it

ix. I'm what people like to call a whore except I don't fuck around I just talk to like nine people at once (hop off my dick rn)

x. I'm hilariously funny if you ever wanna strike up a conversation

xi. I'm down for ANY conversations. you wanna talk about what kinks some random bitch has based on their appearance? let's talk about it. wanna tell me about the sex you had last night? I'll go get a snack. I don't get triggered by really anything so if u need an outlet, I'm right here bb

xii. I actually have a massive gyatt

xiii. I can curl a lot of lbs and um I can bench some too and I guess do leg stuff (gym girlies rise)

xiv. I'm Jewish but not like Jewish my fam just is, I am probably one of the furthest things from religion and I don't hugely support organized religion (my fav way to describe it is being Jew-ish)

xv. I am a leftist through and through (pro choice, pro science, pro gays, Black lives matter, stop Asian hate, in case you needed clarification on that one) and I avoid knowingly being friends with Republicans at all costs

xvi. I am pro Palestine, nothing anyone will say or do could change my stance on that one.

xvii. I have a cat + dog

xviii. I don't get cold like ever cuz I ski in like 10° weather all winter

xix. I have Duolingo and if u wanna beef it out w a quest then I am definitely down for that because I will beat you (I'm learning Hawaiian and Hebrew)

xx. I'm fluent in German and speak it at home w the fam and I know some Spanish + French

xxi. juice boxes > anything

xxii. some more pics of me will follow whenever I stfu

xxiii. I stand at a whopping six feet tall but I swear I have short person energy

xxv. in my personal opinion I have huge dick energy but you're welcome to put me in my place (I'm a switch and I'll cook for you)

xxiv. if your snap score is more that 300k we can't be friends I'm sorry (mine is 100k suck my c o c k)

xxvi. best position is doggy but I can be persuaded into something different

xxvii. CUNT

xxviii. uhhhh I'm from the East Coast of America so l operate in EST time

anyway it was nice getting to talk about myself for a long time 🫡 feel free to make numerous comments about my life in the comments

anyway y'all here are some for faceless pics that are guaranteed to make u cream (see, hilarious)

sayonara sistas

[tonguetiedraven]

cliche I know, but handholding bonrin?

Thanks for the ask!! I went somewhere a bit different with it, but I hope you enjoy! This takes place during the festival arc.

(｡^^｡)⸝♡♡⸜(｡••｡)

The problem was that Ryuuji didn’t even know her name.

Well, there were probably several problems, but that was the first and biggest one for him.

He didn’t know her name, and he had never confessed it to anyone, not even Konekomaru, that he had never actually felt the desire to go on a date. To go to a dance to be close instead of just spending time with his friends, or to hold someone’s hand for any reason other than not getting separated, or to lean in (down, because everyone was shorter than him) and give someone a kiss.

That one was probably the strangest. He could see an appeal in some kinds of dancing as it being a fun form of exercise or close to hugging, but the feelings that went with it just weren’t really there for him. All the other things people went nuts over really didn’t apply to him and were mostly a mystery. Even finding out from Shima that people meant hot a bit literally had baffled him. Why should attraction make you feel warm?

It wasn’t the first time he’d been pursued despite never giving any sort of sign that it was welcome or would be reciprocated in any way. He’d had people ask him out from almost the beginning and he’d had people bring him Valentines since he was in grade school.

He had seen people get angry or embarrassed, but he had never seen someone cry.

She did so almost immediately. He gave his normal, “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in a date right now,” spill, and she’d stepped back, gripped the small package of candies she’d brought him (the kind he never ate because they always seemed to give him a migraine) and before he could really realize what was happening, she was sobbing. Ryuuji immediately jolted in shock and reached out to help and try to stop it, with no idea how to do so.

He had never made someone cry from this. He didn’t know what to do to make it better. Saying yes wasn’t an option because that would make it worse when he didn’t return any of her advances and didn’t keep this up.

“I—” he stuttered, entirely out of his depths and feeling like his heart was breaking with guilt, “it’s—I’m gay!”

He wasn’t. (At least not that he knew. He was nothing as far as he could tell.) It was just better than the crying, and he almost never lied, but maybe this one wouldn’t hurt.

The girl looked up from her hand, still crying more than not, and sniffed dramatically. “You are?”

“Yes,” Ryuuji lied again. “It’s not something I share.” It wasn’t something that was likely true. Ryuuji, whatever he was, seemed to be alone.

“I’m sorry,” the girl apologized, sniffing, and that irritated something in Ryuuji. He wasn’t gay, but it was rude to apologize for the way someone else felt. “I didn’t know.”

The anger dissolved as quickly as it had come, and that brief and poor choice of words was probably the reason he didn’t see a dark-haired boy ducking back around the corner with a shocked expression and a slight blush before he was covering his face with his hands and trying to get his excited and hopeful tail to still.

——♡(´･ω･)(･ω･`)♡——

Ryuuji was sitting under an old oak while he tried to finish his third essay for Demon Pharmaceuticals (Yukio had to be upset about something with the amount of work he was giving out) and was thinking he needed to get some food because he was starving.

“Hey!”

Rin’s cheery voice had him looking up, squinting a bit as his strained eyes refocused, and nodding in acknowledgement.

“Hey, Okumura.”

Rin gave a small wiggle Ryuuji recognized as meaning his tail was trying to wag where wit was hidden under his shirt, and sat down.  Ryuuji raised an eyebrow as a small smile started to lift his lips.

“You need help with homework?” Ryuuji asked, thinking Rin wasn’t likely to have started on this essay yet, but might be working on the previous one.

Rin shook his head and set a bottle of tea and a yakisoba bun on the table before sliding it towards Ryuuji.

“You skipped lunch,” he explained. “Figured you’d be hungry.”

Ryuuji grinned properly and reached for it. “Thanks! I was late getting out and knew there wasn’t a shot of getting there in time to get anything affordable.”

It was still warm. Or Rin had warmed it up for him. (That was more likely now that Ryuuji was thinking about it.) The warmth always made the flavors come through more vibrantly and he’d gone through half of it without even noticing. He blushed a bit when he did notice and made himself slow down and look up.

Rin was beaming and it was hard not to smile back at him. He had a great smile and Ryuuji hadn’t really gotten to see him today. It wasn’t a day they had a shared Cram Class.

“I um, wanted to ask you something?” Rin said after a moment. “I… would you like to go to the concert together?”

Ryuuji stilled in utter shock. Of all the conversations they’d have, he would never have expected that one.

“What?”

Rin swallowed, and Ryuuji realized Rin was blushing, quite a lot, and that his hair had the slightest glitter of flames in it.

“I want to go to the concert with you.” He said, like it wasn’t shocking and he hadn’t been asking most every girl and gotten super excited about the possibility of going out with Shiemi. (And got excited about trying on a regular basis.)

“Me? Since when?”

Rin blushed all the more. “Since the hairclip? I just didn’t think… I didn’t know you were gay.”

Ryuuji blinked and realized that of course people gossiped. That was probably everywhere. He was going to have to figure out how to turn guys down too now. Great.

“I don’t… I’m not. I didn’t know what to do and she was crying and I just said the first thing I could think of.”

Rin flushed all the more and seemed to wilt. “Oh. Shit. Sorry. Just, uh, forget I said—”

“I’m not straight either. I don’t…”

He didn’t think he was anything. He’d never really looked into it. He’d fit in fine when he was younger and then it seemed like everyone was doing something he hadn’t been told about and that entire world had left him behind and confused.

Rin looked up again, seeming curious now. “You’re ace?”

“I don’t know.” He frowned, curious. “Did you actually want to go out with me? Or did you just want a date?”

He’d never actually thought about going out with a guy. He’d have fun hanging with Rin. More fun than going with a stranger. At least as long as Rin didn’t expect a lot more than what they usually did. (Not only did Ryuuji seem to be missing most of what his friends got, he also had no idea what dates even really entailed. Everyone seemed to only be trying to get as far as they could and that wasn’t appealing.)

Rin looked a bit insulted. “Yeah I want to go out with you. Not just a date. I like you Suguro. You’re cool and funny and smart and determined. You’re fun to be around and I like competing with you. Of course I wanna go out with you.”

Something warm and strange seemed to spread in Ryuuji’s chest. He liked the specificity of that. That it was him Rin was seeing and not just another person to ask out. He liked Rin, and he found Rin fun to hang out with and compete with and Rin drove him crazy in so many ways, but he knew he could trust Rin, and he knew Rin trusted him, and Rin would call him out when he was being an ass and listen when Ryuuji said he was, and Rin was earnest and loyal, and Ryuuji was starting to think he’d just found a strange new idea.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. You can just, uh, forget I asked? Forget any of this happened?”

Ryuuji shook his head. “No.”

Rin scowled. “Why not?”

Ryuuji pulled the tea closer and broke the seal with a strangely loud noise as Rin watched him. “I’m going to keep getting asked,” he decided with a frown as he twisted the lid off the rest of the way. “It’s gonna keep happening and I’m tired of it and I don’t want to make anymore people cry. So…”

He took a sip, wondering if this was actually a stupid idea, but he’d rather do this with the promise of actually having fun than keep saying no or crumble under the pressure of some stranger crying and making him feel like a monster.

“I’d go with you, if you’re serious. I can’t… I don’t know what I am, or if I can like you, but it’d be fun.” He looked at Rin over the top of the tea – the brand he drank the most and the type that was supposed to help with migraines and one you could only get at a specific vending machine at this level of the Academy, but one Rin had brought him because he’d noticed that. “If that’s okay with you, then let’s do it.”

Rin narrowed his eyes like he was trying to sniff out a trap, which was rude and made Ryuuji scowl a little, but he held his tongue.

“On a date?”

“I don’t know anything about them. But sure. Just know I—”

“You’re not all feely,” Rin interrupted and flapped his hand like that wasn’t what he was concerned with. “That’s fine. I can try and woo my princess,” he gave Ryuuji a big and toothy grin that made Ryuuji’s entire face feel hot.

“I’m not a princess!”

Rin grinned all the wider. “Don’t get your skirt twisted, princess. I’m gonna be all romantical and no hard feelings if it doesn’t work, okay?”

Ryuuji grumbled but nodded. “Deal.”

Rin stuck his hand out as he stood up, holding it out to Ryuuji like he wanted him to shake it and seal the deal, so Ryuuji did, and found himself entirely confused when Rin took his hand and shifted to sit next to Ryuuji, not giving his hand back. Just holding it in his own warm hand, sitting close enough that Ryuuji could feel the heat of him and peering down at Ryuuji’s Demon Pharmaceuticals homework.

“Shit,” he asked like it wasn’t weird to snag someone’s hand. (Wasn’t it?) “Did we have homework?”

Ryuuji laughed and shoved the book towards Rin. “Yeah, another essay.”

“Another?! We had one?!”

(Ryuuji’s hand was still being held, and he’d never realized how Rin’s hand was calloused. Probably from all the sword drills.)

“We had three.”

“Three?!” Rin looked down at the book horrified. (His hand was smaller than Ryuuji’s. Their fingers fit strangely well together despite that.) “Yukio’s gonna kill me.”

“I’ll help ya out, moron. “

Rin’s smile went all toothy again, enough that his eyes went a bit squinty too, and Ryuuji decided he could use his left hand to finish his own essay. Rin could keep his right one for now.

“Thanks!”

Ryuuji passed Rin a few sheets of paper and a pen and pointed to the first assignment where he’d written the notes for it.

“You take notes for homework?” Rin asked, and snorted. “You’re a nerd, princess.”

“You’re not in a place to judge, ya monkey.”

(His face felt a bit warm, and there was something spreading through his chest he wasn’t quite sure about, but he wasn’t scared and he wasn’t uncomfortable, and it was something he felt might be okay to explore with Rin.

Just without the princess.)

“No,” Ryuuji intercepted, tapping Rin’s hand with his pen. “That’s the wrong word. Check the spelling.”

Rin did and Ryuuji saw his tongue poke out a little in concentration and felt Rin’s leg start to jiggle a little next to his that reminded him of dozens of study sessions like this. Something comfortable and familiar, but the slightest bit different as Rin started to brush his thumb over Ryuuji’s in a steady rhythm that wasn’t distracting, even though it seemed like it should be.

He didn’t know what he was or if he could feel anything like what Rin wanted, but he thought he might be starting to see the appeal in holding someone’s hand.

#bonrin #ao no exorcist #my fanfics #blue exorcist #ryuuji suguro #suguro ryuji #bon suguro #rin okumura #bon x rin #bonfire #bonxrin #bon/rin #suguro ryuuji #prompt fill #demi ryuuji #they'll figure it out together #unfortunately that date is a bit doomed #there's going to be an abrupt end to it #but they'll make it up with a late tea and dessert run after the chaos dies down on a different day

[hawkinsglasscloset]

Sappho Punch | Bottoms x Stranger Things AU

Chapter 1: All is Fair in Love and War

Word count: 2k

Warning: strong language, mention of SA, mention of violence and blood.

A/n: So my obsession with the movie Bottoms and my obsession with the show Stranger Things came together to create this baby. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments are greatly appreciated :3

Fall came, but the weather was still pretty summer-like. There was a soft breeze and a sky sprinkled with stars, making that night the perfect night to finally talk to the girl of your dreams. The only issue was... maybe the girl of your dreams was also the girl of your best friend's dreams. 

Hazel and Robin had been friends since third grade, they bonded over being tomboys and eventually their friendship grew deeper, but never into a relationship. They simply could not see each other in that way, not to mention they both were more into femmes, which led them down a long road of falling in love with straight girly girls. 

They usually went for the opposite type, it definitely made things easier when it came to relationships (or the lack thereof, in their case since they were both virgins), they never fought over a girl in all their years of friendship. 

Robin was more into petite redheads and blondes who could sing or play some instrument. Meanwhile, Hazel liked brunettes or girls with colorful hair, taller than her and on the chubbier side.

Unfortunately, as there's a first time for everything, this time they were both in love with the same girl. She wasn't exactly Robin's usual type, neither was she Hazel's usual type. 

Men usually say bros before hoes, straight girls say chicks before dicks, what do gay girls say? Chicks before clits? Well, something of the sort was decided between the two friends. They were definitely NOT gonna fight over some girl. 

And if she ever happened to show interest in any of them... the other would have to gracefully accept it and move on with no hard feelings. All is fair in love and war, but losing someone who has been in your life before you could even do long division was a price they were not willing to pay for coochie.

"If you don't say hi, I'm gonna say hi," Robin said with a nonchalant shrug. 

"She's definitely straight! What are you even thinking?" Hazel cried nervously as she fidgeted with a big roll of tickets and waited for her cotton candy.

"She's British! Maybe that's how British people are... straight looking," Robin shook her friend by the shoulders. 

"I don't think so, I think in Britain they're even gayer looking than usual," Hazel took the cotton candy and shoved part of it in her mouth. "Look! PJ and Josie!" 

The unpopular, supposedly untalented, lesbian crew of Rockbridge Falls was almost all there after the two arrived, Sylvie was the only one missing, but... nobody really wanted Sylvie around (except for her stepdad, of course). 

"What happened to your arm?" Hazel asked, seeing that Josie had a cast on. 

"She ate shit," PJ laughed. 

"She ate literal shit? What the fuck?" Hazel chuckled. "Did you get beat up again? Were you jumped? Was it spy camp? Did you go to juvie?" 

"Yeah, we went to juvie," PJ sarcastically sneered. 

"OH MY GOD, IT WAS JUVIE?" Hazel gasped just as Jeff, their golden boy from the football team was introduced in the most ridiculous fashion, making all the girls scream and beg him to fertilize their eggs. 

"Why are people so obsessed with him?" Robin mumbled. "He has a round jawline... like a girl." 

"I don't get why girls like boys like that. They're like dogs or pigs or... what's the grossest animal?" PJ huffed while the Viking players passed by them without caring if they bumped into someone. 

"The human being, no animals are gross" a soft voice answered her question.

"Naomi!" Robin nearly screamed.

"Where?" Hazel turned and squealed when she was met with the girl she'd been dreaming of for about a year since she moved from London with her mother. 

Naomi was the British straight girl in question. She was tall, taller than both Hazel and Robin (who was already quite tall), but in a delicate way. Her many curves were perfectly hugged by her bellbottom jeans and a crop top that said vegan women taste better. 

She had long jet-black hair and pale skin which gave her a Snow White quality that made both Hazel and Robin lose their minds.

"Hey, mate," Naomi smiled, as her cheerleader friends, Isabel and Brittany joined her. 

While PJ and Josie fumbled to talk to the other two, Hazel and Robin stared at Naomi without knowing what to say. It was like she always stole all the words from their brains. 

"I see you're vegan," Robin pointed at the shirt. 

"Yeah, I don't like to take part in any kind of animal exploitation," Naomi sweetly replied. "They are friends, not food." 

"Did you know Hazel worked all summer on her uncle's farm? In the slaughterhouse!" 

"Shut up!" Hazel hissed and then put a smile back on. "I didn't... I worked at the National Meat Association." 

"That's well bad," Naomi frowned. 

"I know, right? I don't even eat meat-"

"Yeah you do, your favorite food is steak," Robin said before being elbowed right in the boob by her friend. 

"Meat is murder... I just needed a job," Hazel tried to save face. 

"If you don't mind me asking, how much do you get paid there?" Naomi tilted her head. 

"Fifteen bucks an hour, it's pretty good," it really wasn't, not for handling guts and blood for hours and coming home every day looking like the final girl from a slasher film. 

"Say what, if you're interested, the golf course I work at needs new caddies, they pay twenty quid an hour plus tips. The old guys usually tip well if you laugh at their bad jokes."

"Wait, seriously? And I'd get to work with- with you?" Hazel's eyes lit up, not even caring if the old men in question happened to be pervs or not. 

"Yeah, kinda. I drive around serving drinks, we'd see each other all the time."

"Yes, please! I'd love that! The job, I'd love that job!" 

"I'll give you my manager's number tomorrow and you can give her a call to apply, you have the right build for it," Naomi said, eyeing the cotton candy. "Can I get a little bit?" 

"O-of course! Take all of it!" Hazel handed her the remaining of her treat.

"C-could I get a job?" Robin asked timidly. 

"I thought you worked at the video store, you don't like it there?" Hazel quirked an eyebrow at her friend. 

Before Robin could answer, PJ and Josie stormed out, snatching the big roll of tickets from Hazel and giving it to Brittany. 

"Hey, no, steady on," Naomi took the big roll of tickets back from her teammate. "These are Hazel's." 

"She knows my name," Hazel whispered to herself.

"But the little Dutch boy gave it to us," Brittany protested without any heat behind her words, as usual. 

"Don't be a twat, go buy your own," Naomi handed the roll back to Hazel and followed her friends to the nearest ride. "Have fun!" 

"Don't you work at the video store?" Robin repeated in a mocking tone once they were alone. "Fuck you, Hazel! Eat a bag of uncircumcised veiny dicks!" 

"You did way worse! You told her I eat steak!"

"You do!"

"I can stop."

"Isn't your mom throwing a barbecue tomorrow?"

"I can stop... after tomorrow. Anything for love!"

**

The next morning, when school finally started, Jeff showed up in crutches. He looked completely fine with the exception of a nasty black eye, which left PJ and Josie puzzled. 

Yes, they had technically driven into him the night before, but the car barely touched his leg, how the hell did he get hurt like that? He refused to explain anything more than the fact that he was supposedly run over.

That's what they tried to explain to Principal Meyers, but he wasn't having it, he had to protect their perfect quarterback... to escape expulsion then, Josie made up a story. 

She said they were just practicing for their self-defense club, to help the girls be prepared to face Huntington players that might want to hurt them, which had already started to happen. 

"I can't believe they're letting you guys start a fight club," Hazel chuckled as she ate her lunch next to Josie and PJ on the bleachers. 

"No, they're not, we are not!" Josie shook her head, too scared to even think about it. 

"Of course we are! Did you see the way Brittany and Isabel were looking at us?" PJ countered.

"Wait... girls were looking at you because they thought you ran over Jeff?" Hazel asked, her interest piqued.

"Hell yeah! Nothing makes a girl wetter than displays of power and strength," PJ nodded. "If we get this fight club going, we can get whatever girl we want. We just have to learn how to fight..." 

"You guys probably fought girls in juvie."

"We were lying about that, obviously!" 

"About juvie? Why would you lie to me?" Hazel asked, unintentionally looking like a mistreated puppy. 

"You assumed, I just didn't correct you," PJ rolled her eyes. "We just need to teach girls how to not get punched in the face, easy, and they drop their panties!" 

"Hey, hey guys! Did you hear?" Robin ran towards the trio suddenly. "Huntington shot up our books so the library is out of order again this year!" 

"No, actually... we're discussing creating a fight club to teach the girls self-defense," Hazel squinted, her blue eyes hurting from the sun hitting her face. "We can start with taekwondo, which I got covered."

"Wait, why are we even doing this? This sounds dumb," Robin started eating the sandwich her mother packed in a plastic grocery store bag. 

"We teach a bunch of girls how to defend themselves against the evil Huntington killers. They are grateful to us, we build a community, we bond, we share, we connect," PJ explained while gesturing with her hands and her hips. "We're punching each other, adrenaline is flowing, next thing we know Brittany is kissing me on the mouth!" 

"I take it back..." Robin shared a look with Hazel. "We definitely need a fight club. Hazel, bring Stella-Rebecca! She'll attract the cheerleaders."

"You know Stella-Rebecca?" Josie sat up, starting to consider the idea.

"We're family friends," Hazel shrugged.

It was true, but before even thinking of Stella-Rebecca, Hazel and Robin had bigger priorities.

"Naomi will be so impressed, she'll need to bring an extra pair of underwear to practice every week, cause she'll soak through the first!" Robin cheered quietly. She was usually shy and nervous, but they had a real shot this time, she couldn't throw it away.

"Shhh..." Hazel held a finger in front of her lips when she heard Naomi's voice coming from the principal's office. 

"I'm really sorry," she said. "But he tried to grope me."

"He's a boy, Naomi! He doesn't know any better!" Principal Meyers argued. "We won't make any of this public because it would hurt Jeff's image, but you can't just punch someone for their natural instincts.

"Naomi gave Jeff the black eye!" Hazel whispered. 

"Shit... it won't be as easy as we thought to impress her with our sexy fighting skills," Robin mumbled, but then she smiled. "But on the other hand, she has sexy fighting skills!" 

Hazel nodded, understanding right away and as soon as the principal's office door opened, Naomi was stopped by both girls. 

"Hey! Don't you think there's a lack of female solidarity at this school?" Robin asked, trying to sound casual. 

"Um... what?" Naomi narrowed her eyes. 

"You know, that Huntington player who fucked that girl's face up, we should do something about it," Hazel suggested, almost as if she just had that idea on the spot. "Hey, why don't you come over to our self-defense club after class?" 

"Self-defense club?" Naomi breathed. 

"Yeah, like a fight club! You can beat up people in the name of feminism!" Robin nodded excitedly. 

"Today at 3:15," Hazel added. 

"Okay, I guess it sounds nice. I'll be there," Naomi smiled as she walked away. "See you guys later!"

"May the best tomboy win?" Robin held out her hand.

"Oh, I will," Hazel teased, shaking her friend's hand.

Tag List: @mrprettywhenhecries @elliethesuperfruitlover

#bottoms movie #bottoms 2023 #bottoms fanfic #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x oc #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #crossover #au #robin buckley #robin buckley x oc #oc x canon #fanfic

[possibilistfanfiction]

This seems really indulgent and I know (and love!) footy au so no pressure at all but -- more butch Bea? Would make my day anytime, whatever you might have in mind! :) Thank you for your words

[i love indulgence, here's what was supposed to be one scene & ended up being 8.4k words about how remarkable it is to be butch :) for @unicyclehippo , also on ao3]

//

giving your body to ava is easy; giving your body to yourself is the hard part.

you’re supposed to protect her, you’re told: keeping her safe is the only thing that matters. you understand, as you tug a scratchy blanket up over her shoulders on a train to a little town nestled in the alps, that you are in charge of keeping ava safe because she’s the halo-bearer, because she’s the key to slaying demons and defeating adriel and heaven and hell and the earth between. you’re not supposed to keep her safe because she’s ava, but her breaths are warm against your neck, tucked in safely, her chin on your shoulder — you will keep her safe. it’s a vow you take with the gravitas you have your others, perhaps even more certain, sure, clear: you will keep ava safe.

you’ve felt the same impulse — not as strong, and not as sharp, but the same — toward a few people you’ve known. mackenzie, in third grade, after keith, a fourth grader, called her a bitch at recess, and it was easy, so easy, to let the anger well up in you and to, just like you’d been trained in aikido since you were five, punch him in the throat. you’d had to go to the principal’s office after a small riot had erupted, and you’d sat, sullen, while your principal told your mother and father what had happened. they asked you to apologize, and the words — rotten and wrong — got stuck in your throat. you were suspended for a week and your parents made you go to bed without dinner the entire time; your stomach ached to the point of physical pain and it was hard to think, but when you went back to school, mackenzie had smiled big and bright and had kissed your cheek and brought extra cookies to share at lunch, and it was so worth it.

you’d felt the same impulse in eighth grade, with marin, your best friend. she would come over after archery, and she said she didn’t mind that you were sweaty, even though you knew, objectively, it was gross. marin was always wearing a ripped denim jacket you were, silently, in love with, and her parents let her put purple streaks in her dark hair, and you couldn’t stop thinking about her mouth, even during algebra II, your favorite class. you learned to walk, on impulse, between her and the road whenever you were on the sidewalk; you held hands and felt proud: you were, in ways you had no idea how to name, hers. she pressed you up against the packages of mein and liangpi and cans of kidney beans in your pantry and kissed you, quietly and softly, one day. your first kiss, in the dark in the closet, and you had frozen stock still because — homosexuals are going to hell; that’s not love, that’s a sin, every sunday, and wednesdays during lent and vespers too, all the rosaries in the world won’t take away the way marin sighing into your mouth feels so perfect you want to die in it — it’s in your core, this want. so, of course, you kiss her back. you don’t know what you’re doing, have only watched movies where boys kiss girls or maybe you’d mostly skipped those parts; maybe in bend it like beckham you had paid attention to keira knightly’s short hair and her stomach and jesminder’s smile and the curve of her nose and found it more compelling than the men’s matches your dad takes you and your brother to see. your hands are shaking but you fist them in marin’s hair, coarse and curly and perfect, and you think you might explode when she rests her palm on your hip. it feels a little like jumping off a cliff.

and even your father walking in on you hadn’t stopped you from the want; your mother’s you’re disgusting; i’d rather you take your own life than be gay and the priest at their church telling you, quite clearly, that being a lesbian would result in eternal damnation. even that hadn’t been enough to stop the awful and bright desire to help krishna fix her shelf in her dorm in switzerland when you were sixteen, to accept her thanks in the form of laughter and sweet halwa. you are wrong, you know so, because your parents had seen you kissing a girl and you hadn’t wanted to repent; you had wanted to protect marin from speeding cars and hold her hand in the rain and fall asleep curled up next to her with a movie playing in the background, one where girls kiss and they don’t die afterward. it’s a suicide mission, maybe, the way krishna’s skirt rides up to her underwear while she sits on her bed and watches you level the shelf, her brown skin and the stretch marks you think are beautiful, that you think about kissing, all the time. you learn fencing and archery and you get multiple blackbelts in kendo; one of your sensei has a bright smile and short hair and the most precise hands. she’s beautiful in a way you don’t understand, not really, not yet: her hair is cropped short, and her jaw is square and compelling, and she speaks softly and kindly. when she corrects one of your stances you feel a race of electricity down your spine, the opposite of the stress you feel as your hips get bigger, as you go through the embarrassing ordeal of learning how to put a tampon in, as you have to go up a size with your sports bra. she teaches you to use a bo, and there are many things you can’t name: the power; the ache — you see a reflection that feels so much like a home to you that you are not supposed to want that you don’t know how to face it.

most of the girls in your school had gone to university; you had opened your letters from oxford; from tsinghua; from harvard; from the eth, with steady, sure hands, reading the acceptances calmly. it wasn’t hard, not this part: you braid your hair carefully each day and feel a little like throwing up every time you had to put your skirt on, the weekends and your aikido and judo classes and the standard, starchy, thick gi the most profound reprieve — you studied and you took your exams and it was easy, to become an asset, to become a weapon. you’re brilliant, all of the adults in your life tell you so. you stare at your ceiling and on the bad nights you can’t feel your hands. on the bad nights you want to touch yourself so badly you could scream, and you let your fingers wander down your stomach into the curls that have grown dark between your legs, and you think of stupid keira knightly’s hipbones and you feel the wetness there before you pull your hand away, every time. it’s wrong, to want like you do: to think of what a tweed jacket like your professors wear would look like, how your shoulders would be square and strong; every now and then, you stare at the scissors in your bathroom, for trims in the months between semester breaks when you can leave the grounds, and wonder what it would be like to just cut your hair short, how you might get in trouble but it also might be a relief. there is so much grace you can’t give to yourself yet.

of course, you’re not brave enough for any of it. you are brave, enough, however, to want to die: the ocs is bloody and brutal and a home unlike one you’ve ever known. it’s easier to push all of the sin down and fashion yourself useful, so useful if anyone, anyone at all, ever found out what you think about in the middle of the night, they would still have to value you: you have your arrows and your knives and your sisters and the most beautiful bo you had ever seen. you have your habit and your combat boots; you eat three exacting meals a day and you want and you want and you fucking want — but you tell ava about it, as clearly as you can, and she just loves you. you’re rude, for a second, but she sits patiently and doesn’t judge you for your tears or the curling desire in your chest, and then, what feels like a literal miracle, she tells you that you’re beautiful and you want to be called that, you want to be called handsome, you want her to laugh at your jokes and stare too long at your freckles. you want to love her, and you do: you want ava, who is so pretty and kind, despite it all, to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you will be there for her. so you bandage the cut along your cheekbone in the train car and don’t think of the acceptance letters you had calmly thrown in your trashcan, or the thick watch the woman in front of you was wearing, her sleeves rolled up her forearms, or the way ava is warm and soft and you will gone on as many suicide missions as it took to protect her. to protect her, not the halo, not the church: ava.

she stirs eventually and smiles up at you, groggy and grateful and trusting, like she knows you won’t let anything bad happen to her; it’s easy to let her touch you, to let her lean on you, to let her use you for anything she needs. your heart swells as she burrows deeper into your side.

/

the first time you really allow yourself to think of it, this monstrous, lovely ache inside of you, is when lena, a shopkeeper in switzerland with a neat fade, a perfect quiff combed neatly on top, streaked with grey, and an impeccable linen suit, hands you a pair of pants. ava is in the dressing room trying on a pile of tiny clothes — which you do your absolute best not to think about — and the soft material and exact stitching: neat pleats that will accommodate the small flare of your hips; a straight leg that will sit at your ankle. lena smiles and offers you a few button downs, oversized and collarless, tailored perfectly, and she doesn’t know you’re a nun but you take them all and tell yourself that they’re suitable for you because they’re modest, because they won’t draw attention — not the way ava’s brightly patterned button down she ties into a crop top will, not the way ava will, just inherently, with her perfect smile and elegant brow. you’re drawn to earth tones, to subtle patterns, to thick cotton that drapes without sitting against your chest too snugly. ava loves your clothes, apparently, which is mostly expected because ava loves everything and, you’re certain of it, ava loves you. not as a sister warrior, not as a nun, but as beatrice, which is perhaps the scariest thing of them all.

/

one day, while ava is working and you have unadulterated and unmonitored time to yourself, you let your feet carry you to lena’s shop. ava has been reading you poems at night, and she’s been steadily collecting a few vinyl to play on the phonograph, even though it’s prone to skipping. it’s a life, gentle and slow, even with your training and the looming threat of an apocalypse of literally biblical proportions, and you have no idea how to reconcile who you have always tried to be with who you are, and what you want.

the first night you had been in switzerland, in your tiny apartment with dust and lumpy furniture and ava’s desperately excited energy, you had sat on the couch quietly as she puttered around and then finally settled in bed. you had lied back on the couch, and she had huffed and then sat up: ‘bea, what are you doing?’ she had asked.

you hadn’t been able to find the words that you really meant so instead you’d told her, ‘i’m keeping watch,’ and you hadn’t had to look away from the water stain on the ceiling to know she was rolling her eyes. you had argued, a little, but the couch was genuinely so uncomfortable and you hadn’t slept in so long, you’d gotten up and shuffled to the unoccupied side of the bed. ‘are you sure this is okay?’ you’d asked, and she’d squinted.

‘why wouldn’t it be?’

you had frowned and bitten your bottom lip and stumbled through, ‘because i — i’ve told you, i —‘

ava had rolled her eyes. ‘i don’t care what your sexuality is, beatrice. what i do care about is you sleeping; you’re dead on your feet.’ she had paused and waited for you to situate yourself under the covers, stiffly on your back, and she had huffed a breath and then — slowly, and you were not the only one who understood the overstep of nonconsensual touch, the pain and fury — settled her head just under your chin, resting on your chest. ‘i trust you to keep me safe.’

looking back, maybe that was it, maybe that was the moment you understood: one day, you want to wear a suit to a nice dinner; you want loose, perfectly tailored pants and expensive, thick cotton and for women and femme people — someone like ava; ava herself, you allow yourself — to think that you are attractive, that you’re sexy, that you would do anything to make sure they’re cared for. that you delight in it.

lena is a miracle herself, you think: she understands who you are, or, at least, who you want to be, buried underneath the rubble of a thousand explosions you’d set off along your spine and within your ribcage. she hands you a beautiful suit, and she lets you try it on; some days, you have tea with her wife and practice your arabic and you blush at aleyna’s gravely voice and the way she talks about her favorite art. you are overcome, when you see yourself in the mirror; your soul, eternal longevity be damned, leaps: there you are. you do up an elegant pair of cufflinks and look at a reflection you have always wanted to know.

there you are.

/

ava’s freedom is enviable: she wears clothes she loves and excitedly lets you cut her hair to her chin, because she wants to and because she thinks it’s fun and it’ll look so cute, bea, and she smiles afterward, laughs at herself, delighted, in the mirror. you let her think she’s convinced you of something really exciting and serious when you agree to get highlights; mostly, it makes her happy, and it’s not exactly what you want, but it’s something. ava flirts with boys, and ava flirts with girls, and she leans forward against the bar and winks at you when you drag your eyes away from her chest. some days, you think you might strike up the nerve to ask her, late at night, after you’d heard her touching herself in the shower, stifling little moans: what does it feel like to want with abandon? what is it like?

but you don’t: you dance with her, your head hazy, and you leave a letter — too sentimental, too telling, but a breath — for lena and her wife before you flee. you fight your way through all of madrid and an awful, nightmare of a vision of her with the fog, and then you hold her in your arms, once, after she dies again, after she falls and her body explodes inside its skin — literally. you pray and pray and pray — to her, not a single thought spared for god, and you would give up everything in your life: your vows, your worth, everything, for her to be alive. and she is, eventually, and you help her out of your clothes and it’s a kind of honor in this too: she trusts you not to hurt her, never to hurt her. she trusts you, in the shower, while you’re in an undershirt and boxers and you clean the blood from her ears, to be gentle to her, and to keep her safe.

you have your habit and your robes and your weapons; with each passing day, you become more and more terrified that ava is going to die. you love her; you want, in some way, to spend your life with her, whatever that might mean. but where does it all lead for you if she does die? you clutch your rosary in your hand and feel a very particular horror: who are you, if not for ava’s love? where, now, would all that want go?

/

ava kisses you. it’s your second kiss; you’re the second person she’s kissed, you know as much, but it doesn’t matter: you’ve held her before. you know this, as surely as you know anything. she has been many people, in some way or another, and maybe you have to. there’s so much of your life that has never been yours but the decision to follow her lips as she draws back and bring your hand to her jaw rests in your hands, as steady as they are when you have your bo, and far gentler.

ava kisses you, as she decides to die. you hold her as her body — this beautiful, small, miracle of a body that you love, that you love — fails her, with a particular finality as it glows blue and crumples. you know, when you send her through the portal, that you are going to have to leave this life you have forced down your throat and driven into the marrow of your bones like rods in the center. i love you, you tell her. you hope she knows.

/

no one cares, you realize, if you try on a pair of men’s jeans at a thrift store in berlin. in fact, robbie compliments them casually; you’re not sure if they know how much it means, but they have a lump of skirts in their arms and a neatly trimmed beard and glamorous blue eyeliner today, so you think they probably do. you pull the pants on in the dressing room: they’re light washed, and loose; they fall just at the bottom of your ankles, and you cuff them twice and pull on the sturdy blundstones you’ve worn all over the world at this point. you can see yourself in them in the winter, a big, elegant peacoat and a scarf pulled around your neck, and soft and warm; you can see yourself in them in the summer, rolled up with sandals and an oversized t-shirt. it’s different, than the time you’d tried on a suit — more casual, more variable — but the recognition is there all the same.

‘did you like them?’ robbie asks, meeting you at the front with a few skirts and a crop top that pangs in your chest because robbie will look great in it; because ava would love it.

‘i loved them,’ you say, and a knot releases somewhere in your chest.

/

you end up in los angeles — one tattoo on the top of your wrist and a surfing lesson booked — mostly because it’s the city of angels, which feels a little inevitable, and also mostly because it’s so far from anything you’ve ever known. you keep to yourself at first, mostly, but then you make casual conversation with a few of the surfers out near your airbnb every morning, and they love your accent and give you pointers on how to pop up on your increasingly smaller board and invite you to an arooj aftab show at the broad. it aches, to live this life without ava, even though it’s what she wanted for you, what she asked of you.

you drive along the hellish freeway to make it on time, and you let your friends buy you a drink at the outdoor bar, a little paper wristband signaling you’re over 21 after you’d shown your ID at the entrance; you had agonized over what to wear and settled on your favorite pair of pants, one that you’ve had since switzerland, a wide-legged pair in a deep navy that lena had tailored to fit your waist properly, and a linen collarless button down in a seafoam so pale it’s almost white, the sleeves cuffed up to your elbows, a pair of airforce 1s which your friend had promised you are, without fail, cool. you feel nervous but then your friends seriously look through some art pieces in the museum before the show, and one of them has on a pair of leather chaps, and no one cares at all. you’ve pulled your hair up into a careful, smooth bun for as long as you can remember, and at the show you close your eyes and let your heart hurt: you miss ava. you miss the love of your life, and you miss your faith, and you miss something you’ve wanted your entire life: to be seen as who you are. to be brave enough.

there’s lilting smoke and bright lights diluted by it, everything striking in urdu; you can’t translate each word, of course not, but you do understand: there are so many ways to pray. there are so many gods to pray to.

your friend drops you off at your apartment later that night; you stand in the kitchen in your black sports bra and the simplest pair of black cotton underwear you could find, and let your hair out of its bun. your skin is clean and clear and you have more freckles now than you have your entire life. your hair has gotten long, and every few days someone decides to tell you it’s beautiful. it is, you guess, even though, sometimes, it doesn’t feel like yours. you’d watched paris is burning a few weeks ago, alone at night when it was dark and the only noise you could hear was the gentle brush of the waves outside, after you’d poured yourself one of your favorite ipas and made popcorn, after you’d liet yourself eat a piece of pizza even though you hadn’t gone on a run earlier. you don’t feel like yourself, not all the way: you don’t always want to look at your hips and your chest and when your hair tickles along the middle of your back you have to close your eyes and breathe through it; you love the muscles that have grown sharper and bigger along your arms and the ink in your skin and the way your thighs cut strong and taper down to your knees, the color of your eyes at sunset. you are becoming; it hurts.

you watch the holiness in the ballrooms and you know: people have been far, far braver than you. loving ava — loving yourself — is not a kind of death sentence; it’s a kind of life.

/

camila facetimes you in the mid-morning, after you’ve just finished sparring. you’re in a sports bra, the weather too hazy and hot to wear your entire gi on the full walk home. camila grins when she sees your bare shoulders.

‘picking up the ladies, bea?’

you’ve never definitively said anything, but you kissed ava and then renounced your vows and, honestly, you think everyone probably knew the entire time anyway — it’s not as scary as you thought it would be: camila’s eyes are bright and clear and she’s just calling to say hi. there’s no condemnation; there’s no judgement, only your friend, your sister.

‘no, no,’ you say, and camila pouts, which makes you laugh. ‘it’s just hot.’

‘probably because you’re shirtless on the streets of los angeles.’

‘it’s a two block walk home from my dojo, camila.’

‘you’re not a nun anymore,’ she says. ‘let me have a little fun with it, at least.’

you’re quiet, just a beat too long.

‘how are you doing?’ she asks, resolute and gentle like always.

it goes without saying: you miss ava so much it feels like you’ve broken your wrists; you are in love with the world. ‘i’m — i’m figuring it out.’

it’s a more hopeful answer than camila was expecting, clearly, because she perks up and smiles.

‘well,’ she says, ‘it looks good on you.’

/

one night you think of the curve of ava’s rib. the twelfth, exactly, the way it wrapped slightly in her back, near her spine, a flutter away. you think of the way her shirt rode up in the middle of the night, how she rolled over onto her stomach and you saw the dimples above the waistband of her shorts, the curve of her ass, the nape of her neck, the delicate press of her wrists. it felt wrong, to look like that, your eyes red with sleep — but she was there, and she was so, so beautiful.

one night you can’t sleep and you close your eyes and think about the way ava’s lips had felt against yours. you try not to concentrate on any of the bad, just for now, just for a breath, just for this sliver of moonlight and the quiet seep of your desire onto your fingers when you press between your legs.

you wonder, absently, if hell will open up and swallow you whole. you rub circles around your clit and try, so hard, to listen to your body, to trust it like you had only learned how to do in a fight, like you had only allowed yourself in moments of pain and danger. but you’re safe, in this big bed by the ocean, and you think of ava’s twelfth rib and heaven and you come silently, pleasure drenching down your spine as you allow it to curve into the light.

you give your body to yourself, just for a few minutes, and it feels like heaven. you lie back against your pillow and blink open your eyes and laugh.

/

ava has been back for less than twelve hours before she flits through your closet. you’ve picked up pieces here and there, mostly earth tones, mostly loose and comfortable fabrics; you have a few hoodies, which seem to really delight her, and a tweed jacket you haven’t fully worked up the courage to wear with some slacks yet, although they’re both there, and ready, and available.

‘this is so gay,’ she says fondly, meaning, you presume, your entire wardrobe, and it’s so, so stupid for you to feel panicked, because you are gay and you want, so badly, to love being gay, because you love ava, more than heaven and earth, and she came back for you. but still, you can’t erase so many years of hating a fundamental part of who you are; ava frowns and walks up to you slowly. ’bea.’

‘it’s fine.’

‘i’m sorry.’ she takes both of your hands in hers and runs her thumb along the back gently. ‘i don’t — this is all still kind of new to you, i guess.’

it’s gentle, and forgiving, and opens up so much space for you. you had wanted, so, so many times, to change into who you are, brimming under the surface, and you’d only started to feel brave enough when you’d seen her genuine smile at your new slacks in switzerland. you suppose, really, it’s not that much different now. ‘i, uh, i see a therapist.’

‘oh?’ she doesn’t back away, only squeezes your hands. ‘that’s awesome. do you like them?’

‘i do.’

she just stands and waits and you are thankful for her, again and again; you have missed her so, so much.

‘i started — because i was grieving,’ you say, quietly and in the direction of a row of sneakers on the floor. ‘i went because i was hurting, and i didn’t know what to do with it.’ you had started going because, one night, you had gotten roaringly drunk at a little bar in echo park and felt like you wanted to walk into fucking traffic on the 405 when a girl with ava’s lotion passed by you, but that’s a detail you can mention another time, or never.

‘i’m sorry, bea.’

‘no.’ you touch her face gently, rest your hand on her collarbone. ‘not your fault. but what i mean is that — i started going because i missed you, and i didn’t know who i was, really. i left the church, and i fell in love with you, and, like, how do i become who i really am as a lesbian ex-nun whose — uh, person, is, well, missing, for an undetermined amount of time.’

‘therapy does seem like a good start with that,’ she says sagely. ‘also, person?’

‘we hadn’t discussed what we were to each other, before the portal, so.’ you shrug. ‘i know you’re my partner. but you are also my person.’

‘love that,’ she says, and smiles, ‘and love you. and other than how incredible i am, what have you learned about yourself?’

you lead her to a drawer in your closet, and you open it and take out a chest binder, black and unassuming, one you haven’t worn yet but had bought one morning online, after you’d had a wonderful surf session and you had wondered, just enough, how it might feel. ‘i don’t know,’ you say. ‘i don’t — i’m figuring it out.’ ava is still and patient beside you; you have a holy war coming, one neither of you is sure to survive, and it all seems to matter a little less in the face of it. or, maybe, it matters more. ‘is that okay?’

‘fuck yeah,’ ava says. ‘you’re so hot, like, god, even hotter than i remember? what a fucking gift! and, yeah, i mean, you’re however you feel, regardless of me. i know i’m like really awesome, but i’m just a person. kind of. for these purposes, i’m just a girl. mostly.’ she laughs at herself. ‘anyway, try it on! if you want. i love you, and i want to see.’

for your entire life you’ll hold it in your heartspace: i love you, and i want to see. just like that, just like a commandment — true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, praiseworthy. ‘okay.’

‘sweet,’ ava says, ‘i’ll be waiting out here, whenever you’re ready.’

you step into the binder and pull it on like you’d watched a few tutorials of, and you don’t think it’s something you want all of the time, but your heart pounds and your palms sweat and then your entire body settles when you situate the straps on your shoulders and turn in the mirror, see your chest mostly flat. again, it’s like seeing yourself for the very first time: there you are.

you wipe a few tears from your cheeks and let out a big breath and then slip a t-shirt over your head, pad out to where ava is very obviously vibrating with excitement and not at all reading the book on her lap, opened to a random page.

she groans and leans back dramatically. ‘even hotter, wow.’

‘yeah?’

‘yes!’ she narrows her eyes. ‘but, from what i think your therapist is getting at: how does it make you feel? even if i wasn’t here to tell you how hot you are, which i always will be now, obviously. but even if i wasn’t, what are you feeling?’

unbound, you remember, unburdened. ‘happy,’ you say, and she stands and runs her hands up and down your sides, over your flat chest, and kisses you. ‘i feel so happy.’

/

ava is overjoyed when one of your friends in madrid invites you to a drag show. technically, you’re both supposed to be Very Seriously Working, because there really is an imminent number of battles looming over the horizon, but you rent a little flat a few blocks from headquarters and sometimes try your best to take ava on dates. obviously, she enjoys doing everything in her power to loudly woo you: she buys flowers from a vendor on the corner and dramatically gives them to you; she brings home books you might like, in all kinds of languages; she tells everyone at the ocs how your lesbian love was what was strong enough to bring her back from the other realm. it’s all a little ridiculous, but she always has been, and it’s intoxicating to be the sole focus of her joy sometimes.

ava whistles and you roll your eyes when you slip a warm oversized cream color wool sweater over your binder, careful not to mess up your meticulous bun, and let it sit loose and elegant over a pair of navy slacks and slip on a pair of brown loafers. ava is in a dress and a blazer and she’s done eyeliner and lipstick and she’s so, so fucking beautiful. you’d put a little mascara and chapstick on and a little thrill goes through you: ava wants to be on your arm tonight; she wants to sit next to you and whisper joyously in your ear and kiss you and come home with you — ava looks like that and ava is yours.

there are three queens performing that night, two songs each, ava informs you, when you meet up with your friends. it’s loud and bright and one of the queens — ava’s favorite, if her screaming next to you has any indication — does ‘pure/honey’ from renaissance, which, in ava’s words, brings the house down.

‘gender fuckery is heaven, baby,’ the queen says after, to absolutely raucous cheers from the crowd. ava looks at you with a raised brow but her grin is so big you can’t do anything but kiss her: the swell in your chest is good, you decide, like a perfect set by the pier just after sunrise, wave after wave breaking in a way your body knows exactly what to do with, exactly how to ride safely into shore. you wipe a few tears but you let ava drag you to your feet and you sing along, on your own accord, when they play whitney houston.

/

‘what’s one thing — especially something that you’ve maybe felt scared of, or that you’re not sure you’ll like — that you associate with queerness that you’ve always wanted to try?’

and, like, therapy is hard, okay? it’s hard when ava is so overjoyed and so fearless about her own sexuality, and about loving you without any hesitation; of course, you both have trauma, but ava has never, in her entire life, tried to deny herself want or pleasure or expression.

and it’s hard because, god, there are so many things on that list. some of them you’ve done: buying men’s pants (that fit you like a dream, thank you very much); dancing with ava and finally kissing her after a few shots; going to a lesbian bar; going to a drag show. you want to get more tattoos — some that mean important things, and maybe some that don’t, that you just like — and you want to smoke weed the way ava does with your friends sometimes, laughing slow and soft and curling up in your lap. you want to kiss ava in front of a van gogh without checking around you first; you want to pull her chair out at dinner; you want to laugh when your friends say that’s gay — with lots of love — after one of them says something sweet about their partner. you want ava to steal your clothes. you want to go to pride. you want, very badly, to find a church that doesn’t make you feel like dying.

‘it doesn’t have to be serious,’ your therapist says, coaxing you along just a little. ‘it doesn’t have to be huge or life-changing. just something you might try, whatever comes to mind.’

‘a haircut.’ it sort of comes out of your mouth without permission, but maybe that was the point; you’re still figuring out want and desire and giving in to them without anxiety.

your therapist smiles, and it feels good, warm, to know that you’ve told the truth, that she seems to understand. ‘why does that scare you?’

you look down at your hands and will yourself not to fidget; your therapist notices and hands you a stim toy, admittedly your favorite one.

‘well, first, what if i hate it?’

‘haircuts are, fortunately, relatively temporary. what would you do if you did hate it?’

‘grow it out again, i guess.’ you think of ava’s collection of hats and beanies. ‘a cap, maybe?’

‘logical. what else scares you?’

‘what if ava hates it?’

‘well, from everything i know of ava, i doubt she would hate anything you decide could bring you joy. and she seems very into you.’

it gets you to smile: ava makes that known often, and to everyone she wants, it’s true.

‘when ava tries something, like a haircut or color, or a more masculine or feminine outfit, how do you feel?’

‘i love her, obviously. in any form; she’s beautiful and she’s my partner.’

your therapist smiles. ‘exactly. and, beyond that, i know we’ve been talking about this, but your sexuality and your relationship to it, and your joy in it, lies far outside of your partner. you were a lesbian before you met ava, and you will be, no matter what your relationship with her is, unless you decide you feel something different. your queerness and place in it isn’t just about sex, or your partner. it’s about who you are, fundamentally, and how you want to be seen for it.’

you nod, take a deep breath. ‘yes. i guess, well, when i was younger, 12 or 13, maybe, i wanted to cut my hair short. i was in so many martial arts and archery classes; i ran and swam all the time, so it seemed easier. it also seemed … cool? like, i thought it might feel… that it might feel good, or right. i didn’t know why.’

‘why didn’t you cut your hair then?’

‘my mother, when i asked, she said that it would make people think i’m … that i’m a dyke.’ you pause, let the hurt well up in you and breathe it out. ‘she used that word, and it scared me.’

‘what does that word make you feel now?’

‘i… i love it? it still feels a little scary, maybe, but — i already know people look at me and don’t think i’m straight, even when i’m not with ava. that used to be terrifying, because what if someone was unkind or even dangerous? but that … it hasn’t happened, and, if it did, i could handle it. i know i could.’

‘so what would a haircut change, then?’

‘if i — ‘ you imagine it, then, you let yourself: how the collar of your favorite turtleneck sweater might look, how easy it would be to take care of after surfing, how you could put on mascara and linen and your favorite sunglasses and hold ava’s hand, just like always. ‘people would see me and know i’m a lesbian, i think. it’s… a choice, for me at least, to look queer. and a haircut is one i can’t immediately change, like clothes. and we’re going to see my old friends soon, and i don’t know what they’d think, and — ‘

‘your friends have been accepting of you, and of ava, and of you and ava together, right?’

‘yes, of course. but it would just be — i couldn’t hide. everyone would know; everyone would be able to see, all the time. ava isn’t read as queer all the time; i can pass as straight. but if i couldn’t — ‘

when you don’t continue, your therapist gently says, ‘you would be seen. which is scary, and i hear what you’re saying, absolutely. but, beatrice, you would be seen for who you are, without apology.’

‘that’s true.’

‘i have one more question.’

‘okay.’

‘what would happen if you loved it?’

/

‘how are you doing?’ your stylist, xavi — one of your favorite people on the planet, one of your best friends who has been offering to give you a haircut you actually want for two years now — calmly combs out your long hair after she’d washed it.

‘i think i might throw up.’

it makes her laugh, which is maybe a little mean but also why you’re so fond of her; she had been one of the students in your adult beginners aikido class and, while she hadn’t shown any talent or much interest, she had made you smile all the time and invited you and ava to dinner with her and her wife as soon as she found out you mentioned ava, and you had been friends ever since. most days, you just put your hair into a neat bun. ava likes to play with it down, especially when you’re sleeping in, but when you told her you wanted to cut it she had kissed you square on the mouth. ‘i love you, and i want to see,’ she’d told you again, and played with the engagement ring around your finger. ’even if it looks terrible — which isn’t possible, because it’s you — there’s no way i’m ever asking you to take this off. ever, ever, ever, bea. okay?’

xavi pats your shoulder; she had excitedly fit you in this morning after you’d texted her after therapy yesterday with pictures of a short, neat mid-fade to the skin, sitting in your car before you even drove home, afraid you’d lose your nerve if you didn’t. ‘we can just do a trim, or start with a little off, and you can decide how you’re feeling from there.’

it’s so patient and so kind. ‘no, no. i — i’m sure. i’m just scared.’ it’s ridiculous, really, you think: you’ve been shot and stabbed and blown up multiple times; you have killed more people than you can count; you have almost died, so, so many times. but this, this is living, true to who you are. ‘i — this is what i want. i know this is what i want.’

‘okay then,’ xavi says, and collects your hair, smooth and long, into a ponytail at the base of your skull. ‘ready?’

‘as i’ll ever be.’

it’s fast and unceremonious, just a few sips as you close your eyes, but then you feel hair tickle your cheeks and you open your eyes and xavi hands you your long ponytail with a grin.

‘oh my god.’

‘okay,’ she says, ‘we can stop here? i can definitely make this work.’

‘no, no,’ you say, ‘it’s good.’ you laugh. ‘i feel good.’

‘you want to keep going?’

‘yeah,’ you say, let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, settled in a way, already, that you never have been before in your entire life. ‘let’s do it.’

‘amazing,’ xavi says. ‘this is going to look so good.’

and, really, it does: xavi turns the clippers on and you let go of the swoop in your stomach, your clammy palms, the too-fast thud of your heart, and just let yourself become. xavi explains what she’s doing each step, and she talks about the kittens she’s fostering, and asks you about your new aikido class, and it’s easy.

she finishes; she places a hot towel on your neck and makes sure your hairline is clean in the back and then shows you how to put a little pomade in the top, an inch and a half long, textured and dark. she takes the cape off and you stand, look at yourself in the mirror: your favorite crewneck, and a pair of pants ava had surprised you with from artists and fleas, the thin chain with a tiny cross you don’t take off sitting just below your collarbone. ‘i love it, xavi,’ you say, your hands are shaking but when you bring them up to your hair there’s a clarity in your chest that’s never been there before: unbound, unburdened, you remember, and also: i felt finally myself.

/

you’re in and out of it after surgery; you know your injuries as ava told you and then the surgeon explained more completely. mostly, you’re just relieved you’re alive, because the moment before you hit the wall you were sure you weren’t going to be. you’d asked mary a few hours ago, while ava was in the bathroom, to convince ava to take a walk and then eat an actual meal, not just pick at food while she sits by your bedside. it works: mary bullies ava into it, but sometimes, even now, that’s just what you have to do.

you fall asleep again; you’ve been walking more the past day, up and around with a walker a few times a day. between that and the pain medicine you’re still on, and the residuals from anesthesia, it’s impossible to not nap fairly often. when you wake up, lilith is kicked back in the chair by one side of your bed, her feet, boots still on, resting by your side on the blanket. mother superion sits next to her, doing a crossword in the daily paper. the sight makes you laugh a little, and you’re pleased that you’re a little less sore.

they both notice you’re awake; mother superion puts down her crossword but lilith doesn’t move an inch. you’re thankful your surgeon had let you sit on the shower seat and let ava wash your hair earlier this morning, careful to not press hard against the bruise on the back of your skull or get any water on your incisions — you feel slightly less gross and definitely more awake than you had before.

she looks at you and you feel anxious, all of a sudden: lilith appraises you, and then slouches even further into your seat. ‘gay,’ she decides on, and then, ‘aerodynamic.’

you look to mother superion for a moment, whose mouth twitches in a smile. ‘we didn’t have much chance to talk before the battle,’ she says, ‘but what lilith means is that your hair suits you.’

your brain is still sluggish, but — ’because i’m… gay and aerodynamic?’

lilith, miraculously, laughs. ‘well, sure, but it looks good.’ she shrugs. ‘you look like yourself.’

mother superion nods. ‘it’s good to see you becoming who you are.’

you’re definitely still loopy, overly emotional, but you might tear up from that even if you weren’t. still, lilith rolls her eyes. ‘oh, come on, beatrice.’

‘sorry,’ you sniffle, then rub your eyes.

you hear ava’s, ‘you made her cry? i was only gone for like, half an hour? what the fuck?’

‘i said something nice,’ lilith defends, getting to her feet.

‘sure you did,’ ava says. ‘i can still take you in a fight. i’ll do it, swear to god.’

‘you definitely cannot take me in a fight, ava.’

ava stands, indignant, although it’s made less effective by the comfortable hoodie a little crooked on her shoulders and mary’s a whole head taller than her. the halo flares a little but quiets when you reach out a hand in her direction.

‘oh, for fuck’s sake,’ lilith says, and then in a flash she’s gone. mother superion squeezes your hand before she heads out with a nod and another soft smile, and mary follows.

ava sits on the side of your bed. ‘was lilith an asshole? i swear if she made you feel bad about anything i will kill her.’

‘she was actually, in her own way, kind. and mother superion was too. i’m just more emotional than usual because of the meds.’

‘you’re sure?’

you tug ava down a little and she messes with your hair with a soft smile, then kisses your forehead. ‘very chivalrous of you, to offer to defend my honor, though.’

she laughs. ‘i don’t want to fight lilith again, ever, in any realm, in any way.’ she presses her mouth to yours. ‘but, for you, bea, i would do anything.’

/

‘you look — ‘ you let your brother fumble over his words for a moment and then laugh, spare him any more worry.

‘hot is fine.’

he rolls his eyes. ‘you look incredible, bea.’ the suit lena had made you — navy, and light, a slim tuxedo pant, a single button jacket and a perfect, crisp white t-shirt tucked in neatly, sitting beneath — fits exactly how you want it. your hair has grown out, and it parts in the middle now, and flops — as ava loves to say — just above your eyes; the sides and back are still buzzed short, and it makes you smile, even now — your ‘prince charming era’ according to ava. xavi had done your makeup: tinted moisturizer and a little bit of mascara.

‘i do look incredible, huh?’

he smiles. ‘yeah. you really do.’ he lint rolls your shoulders for the final time, more out of nerves than there having ever been lint in the first place. ‘well, let’s do this then. let’s go get you married.’

he walks you down the aisle and then you wait in front of the altar you had made, barefoot on the beach, and when ava rounds the corner and then smiles at you, you know you’ve given her a gift too: i want to see. i love you, and i want to see.

/

‘thank god i married you,’ ava says, tracing a line down your spine and then along the linework tattoo on your ribcage.

‘mmmm,’ you say, ‘i agree. but why, specifically.’

she bends down to laugh into your shoulder before kissing down your spine. ‘it’s fucking insane that you get hotter like, literally every day.’

you laugh too. ‘thank you, my wife.’

she squeezes your hips. ‘wow. my wife.’

you turn over beneath her and pull her down slowly to kiss you. the snow is falling outside but the fireplace at your room in a resort in the alps is beautiful, and everything is warm. you feel the halo hum beneath her hands and it’s easy, it’s so easy, to let ava roll her hips against yours and press you down into the mattress; it’s easy to put on boxers — black calvins, tight against your thighs — after you shower and stand in the mirror. your hands are calm, and it’s so easy, when you really look, to see who you are in your body. to belong only to yourself: there you are.

#wn #warrior nun fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #butch!beatrice #an ode to her bc i love her & i love being butch #if this isn't ur vibe... pls just move along thank u #ava’s favorite way of affirming bea is just being horny. a queen #this entire thing exists bc i had the first line & then lilith saying ‘gay. aerodynamic’ & i had to get from one to the other lmao

[asexual-juliet]

stranger things characters ranked by how aware they are of will’s gayness

1. jonathan: jonathan has like. canonically known since before will has and i could talk about it for hours <3 there is such a softness with which he approaches the matter like even when will is so young in those s1 flashbacks, jonathan is choosing his words so carefully… “you shouldn’t like things because people tell you you’re supposed to” is like. the ultimate proof for me that jonathan knows before will does. and like in s4 with the surfer boy kitchen scene… fucking christ he is so gentle with it like he’s not avoiding the topic but he is letting will know that it’s okay and he’s a safe person to go to with it if he needs to… anyway jonathan knows and has known and loves his brother so much that he is willing to give him the space he needs to figure it out himself but that is not what this post is about. moving on:

2. robin: robin clocks this boy the first time he walks into scoops ahoy trailing after mike like a lost puppy. like i dont have much to say here but her gaydar definitely goes off and she starts trying to drop subtle hints that she is also gay but it takes him a little while to clock her back. 

3. argyle: argyle takes one look at will and immediately clocks him. it’s just a given. the sky is blue, the earth is round, will is gay. at one point he mentions it very casually to jonathan like “one day when will has a boyfriend—” and jonathan is like “argyle you can’t just say that!” and argyle, stoned out of his mind, is like “dude was it a secret?”

4. lucas: it takes lucas a while to put the pieces together but all things considered he’s pretty insightful about it and starts to consider the possibility around the end of middle school. the evidence keeps piling up and lucas does his best to be silently, subtly supportive but doesn’t push will before he’s ready. 

5. max: max has put the pieces together in the same way that lucas has but she’s done it much faster. this is partly because she is a cali girl who is familiar with the idea that homosexuals exist but mostly because she is a bisexual legend. she is slightly less subtle than lucas but still gentle. she kind of lets will know that she knows but never directly acknowledges it.

6. steve: steve does not even think about it until robin very casually asks him “so little byers is gay, right?” during a movie night, to which steve has to pause the movie and go holy shit. is he?? but from then on he is like subtly-but-not-so-subtly supportive yk? like he thinks he’s being smooth with it but it is blatantly obvious to everyone else who knows what’s going on. 

7. dustin: he is such a smart boy and yet such a dumbass. he has absolutely no fucking idea god bless. 

8. mike: mike has no fucking idea. mike knows gay people exist but would never think to consider the possibility that someone he knows is gay. mike thinks of gay people in the way he thinks of like. flamingos. like they definitely exist somewhere but not in hawkins. and even if faced with the possibility he’d just be like “will told me once in third grade that he thought jenny owens was pretty he can’t be gay. checkmate, fuckers.”

9. nancy: nancy does not think about will or gay people enough to give much of a shit about this particular matter.

10. el: el does not know what gay means <3

#stranger things #st #will byers #jonathan byers #argyle #argyle stranger things #robin buckley #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #el hopper #mine

[epicfaceness]

3 am fictional burp story

It was nearing the end of 7th period. Class was almost over and Kent could finally go home. He’s always been a shy boy, ever since he figured out he’s gay things have been confusing. Suddenly he’s attracted to this guy and that guy but never has the confidence to talk to them. Though he can get away from it all as soon as that bell rings to signal class is over. A few minutes before the bell however the intercom comes on, and it asks for Kent to the office. He’s worried sick to his stomach. 

“What could be so important 5 minutes before we could leave?” He thought to himself.

 As he nervously walked into the office he sees his physics teacher and principal sitting in-front of an empty chair. Clearly waiting for him he took a gulp and sat down. He was intimidated not by the presence of his principal but the large and prominent figure of his Physics teacher, Mr. Smith. He was a large man, arms like bull and legs that looked like they could crush watermelons. 

Not to mention his huge pecs, “He could probably snap me like a twig!” Kent thought horrified.

 Kent himself was just short of a twink, he tried to keep a sort of muscular build but mostly has a good waist. Still he looks tiny compared to Mr. Smith. Snapping back to reality, 

Kent finally asks “Why am I in here?”

 He accidentally lets a voice crack out. The principal responds with a stern and powerful tone 

“You’re just about failing Physics young man, you’re going to have to stay after school with Mr. Smith every day till you bring up your grade.”

 Kent was shocked by the news, his heart rate sped up a bit and he wondered why he was failing, to Kent, he always took good notes and paid attention.  However the decision was set by the principal and nothing could be done. Kent gave a light glance to Mr. Smith, who only had a light smirk on his face. He gets up from his chair, thanks the principal and signals to Kent to follow him. Kent obeys and follows him to the classroom, where Kent will be spending an hour almost every day after school. Though it isn’t all bad, while following Mr. Smith, Kent got to have a full view of Mr. Smith’s extraordinarily large rear. It almost made up for how scary he looked to a small guy like Kent. Once they arrived Mr. Smith simply sat down in his chair and put his feet up on his desk, telling Kent in a loud strong voice, 

“Sit down wherever you’d like.” 

Kent, feeling almost compelled to sit down, took the desk closest to Mr. Smith’s desk. They both sat there quietly until a loud grumble shattered the silence and almost scared the life out of Kent. 

“Was that y-you?” Kent asked, as to him that sound was monstrous. 

“Yep, must be about time for a snack…”

 Mr. Smith shifts his feet off the desk to Kent’s dismay. He reaches towards a small mini fridge underneath his desk, it’s stocked with various drinks, yet he pulls out something particular. Mr. Smith brings out a huge container of something and sets it on his desk, it makes an audible thud as he does.

 Kent getting a better look at the label asks “Milk?”.

 Mr. Smith responds confidently “Oh yeah, gotta keep these muscles fueled.”

 he ends his boast with a small flex, his monstrous arms nearly bursting out of his dress shirt. Kent watches as Mr. Smith sits up and starts to drink. He watches the first few gulps take almost a third of the milk, yet Mr. Smith seems to not even be phased by this. Kent watches in amazement as the milk continues to disappear, Mr. Smith’s large throat bobbing up and down rhythmically with each gulp, and the loud emanating sounds come with each motion. He finally finishes the milk, crushing the huge container with his fist and squinting for a moment, he pats his chest and puffs up his cheeks. Mr. Smith lets out a long and wet 

BUUUURRRRPPP

Letting out a big sigh after. His dress shirt was just about ready to give way for his now milk bloated gut, and he was grunting and licking his lips, all while patting his stomach. Kent was in utter shock and amazement, his blush very clearly showing on his face he didn’t even know what to say. 

After a bit of gawking he mutters “e-excuse you.”

 This makes Mr. Smith laugh and scoot his chair out from behind his desk, revealing to Kent his belly, ready to break free from the tight shirt. Mr. Smith pushes back his straight, brown, hair and asks 

“Why don’t ya c’mere, I got a special assignment for ya.” 

Kent agrees and walks over to the large intimidating man, he’s never been this close before. Almost out of instinct he reaches a hand out to Mr. Smith’s belly and rubs it a bit. He looks at the teacher for a response , yet he doesn’t seem phased. 

Kent musters the courage to ask “C-can I unbutton your shirt sir…” he asks with a clear blush on his face. 

Mr. Smith smirks and responds “Go right ahead, just don’t bite off more than you can handle.” 

He ends his sentence with a wink and Kent gets even more red. With the confirmation, Kent meticulously unbuttons each and every one of Mr. Smith’s shirt, each one freeing more and more. 

Mr. Smith sighs “Thank you, I needed that, now why don’t you get to work there boy.” 

He said in a sly tone. Kent did as he was told and started to rub the bloated gut, his chest and belly was a lot hairier than Kent expected but it only made him blush more. With every couple of rubs Mr. Smith would let out a vicious 

BBOUURRRPPP 

Eventually after a bit of rubbing, Mr. Smith decided he would do something different. 

“Stay right there.” He said to Kent, knowing he’d obey.

 Mr. Smith went back to the mini fridge and found a second container of milk. The second Kent saw it he knew what was about to happen and was eagerly awaiting it. Mr. Smith once again chugged down the large milk container within seconds, letting out a huge guttural 

BOUUUURRRRRPPPPP

His gut nearly doubled in size, almost to that of a soccer ball. Kent never thought someone could even have a gut this big… and he loved it. Mr. Smith was clearly ready to let loose as he was undoing his belt, even telling Kent 

“Lay down on the floor kid.” 

Kent eagerly obeyed and waited for Mr. Smith to make his move, he watched his huge hairy gut from below and not even his pants couldn’t hide his excitement. Mr. Smith walks over and squats down, he then starts to lay down, right on top of Kent. He’s a lot bigger than Kent and so his huge gut almost enveloped Kent’s entire torso, leaving Kent pinned, with their faces matching up perfectly in position. Mr. Smith smirks at Kent and says 

“You know Kent, I haven’t been able to do this in a few years, the principal said you’re with me till you pass this class. So looks like you’re gonna be stuck with me a while. And speaking of being stuck, how’s it feel under my big gut huh?”

 Mr. Smith was interrupted by a loud grumbling from his stomach, they both knew what was to come. “Hell yeah now the show’s starting” Mr. Smith said with joy. Kent listened with a sort of fear mixed with infatuation as he waited for the torture awaiting him. 

BUUUUUUUUURRRRRPPPP

Mr. Smith had gotten extremely close to Kent’s face and let out a rumbling 9 second burp. Bits of spit landed on Kent as the terrible gas filled his nose, he’d never smelled something so terrible. “Mmm… s-stop” the boy whimpered. “What was that? You want more?” Mr. Smith laughed as he rubbed his gut trying to stir up more gas. 

BOUUUURRRPPPPP 

BUURRRPP

BURRPP

He releases 3 consecutive burps onto Kent’s face, the boy is writhing from the smell but still likes what’s being done do him. He puts his hands on Mr. Smith’s rumbling gut and whimpers 

“More… please sir”

Mr. Smith decides he wants to tease Kent a bit and sits up, still pinning him under the weight of his huge legs but holding Kent’s arms away so he can’t feel his belly. 

“What’s that?”

BOUURRRPPPP

“You’re gonna have to tell me what you want now boy.”

BUUURRP

He lets out burps into the room and away from Kent, who furiously tries to get him to stop. He struggles and blushes hard, his pants are stained from how horny this whole ordeal has made him at this point and he can only ask for more. 

“P-please sir, I want more of your burps…”

Mr. Smith immediately shoots back down to his original position, crushing Kent under his belly once more, sucking in a bit of air and pinning his hands to the floor.

BOUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRPPP 

Mr. Smith sighed, the burp was long and powerful and left Kent a heaving mess. It’s like each burp was just making him hornier, and the same could be said for Mr. Smith. This escapade of burps and horny pleas continue until they’re both out of breath. By now Mr. Smith has digested most of the milk and his usual semi bloated abs came back. As for Kent he was a sweaty mess, heaving and wishing it would’ve been longer. 

“Could we do this again sir?” Kent asked with a light blush

“Sure kid, but you’re paying for all the milk alright? Oh and one more thing before ya leave.” 

Mr. Smith gets back onto Kent quickly, this time with his ass directly on top of Kent’s face. He grunts and lets out a loud and wet fart

FRRRRRBPPTTPPPPP

He sighs and says to Kent, still dazed from the bombardment of one of the worst things he’d ever smelled. Once Kent regained his composure he could only think about the smell and how much he wanted more of Mr. Smith.

“Don’t let me drink milk kid, gets me way to gassy, or do, and enjoy the consequences.” 

The man buttons his shirt back and heads out of the room, leaving Kent to await their next meeting. 

#burping #burp kink #belly burp #bloated burps #male burp #story #belching

[whysodelirious08]

Fantasy or Reality?

Eddie Munson x Male Reader

18+ MINORS DNI. IT'S A SMUT FIX FIC!

_____

Summary: You and your "Studyy-Buddy" Eddie are "studying" at school after all your classes. You decide to have some one-on-one time but an alternative offer arises in the bathrooms.

Genre: Smut.

Words: 2.3k

I do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful to me and my work. — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog! Ask if you have any questions.

_____

It wasn't that you had to keep it a secret but at least at school you felt that you had to. Had to keep it a secret that you liked one person in particular...

Unfortunately there were a number of students who kept failing a year and were held back. But the person who had been your "Study Buddy" for the year was none other than Eddie Munson, supposedly your least favourite person. You would rather be caught dead than have people find out who you were paired with. This wasn't just because Eddie was…Eddie. But because of you, because you were caught kissing a guy in a classroom and then outed as gay which stuck. And normally the male and male vs the female and female pairs worked fine unless the whole school deemed you gay, let alone with Eddie being bundled into the mix. You were lucky you were able to keep it hidden for so long. 

The two of you were last in school other than a few late studiers from other classes and the teachers. You barely paid any attention to Eddie as you carefully worked through the booklet for the third time, determined to pass with good grades or else you'd be sacrificed by your parents, most definitely. You glanced up only for a moment to see what he had been doing for the last hour but saw nothing more than drawings and scruffy notes. 

"Interested, Smalls?" Eddie asked, not looking up. The end of the pencil in his mouth as they turned the page and pulled the stick from their lips, glancing up now. 

You blinked and shrugged before looking back down at the paper, not particularly interested but not necessarily dismissing the idea that it could be interesting had he not needed to study. You rarely spoke, not because you couldn't but rather you felt more comfortable that way. Eddie had gathered shortly after meeting you that he wouldn't get verbal responses from you unless he majorly fucked up on his work. This wasn't even the worst part about the male being your study buddy, the reason you disliked him wasn't because of anything Eddie had done but rather your own sexuality making you unbelievably attracted to him. You had been since you first saw him, more than a year ago, perhaps two now. Half the time your hums and vague responses were an attempt to not interact with Eddie or else your mind would run free, it did that enough as it was. 

Sure, the friends you had knew you were gay and suspected you had a crush on the freak of the school but since they had graduated it wasn't as if anyone from school sort your friends out to get the secrets anymore. Your mind was wandering as your head laid in your crossed arms, your face buried in the fabric of your hoodie, your leg bouncing noticeably under the table. You had been so deep in your thoughts you weren't watching Eddie's movements as he leaned down to grab his bag, glancing under the table and stopped as he saw your hard on contained by your jeans, Eddie's tongue poking out as he wondered if he should tease but he didn't as he stood, his bag in his hand, starting to pack his things. 

You stood, pulling off your hoodie and wrapped it around your waist, the sleeves hiding your crotch a little. You shoved your things away before leaving the room much like you usually did. Except this time Eddie followed behind from a good distance as you headed to one of the secluded mens bathrooms. You took the cubicle closest to the wall, only two cubicles being in there anyway. You sat on the closed lid of the toilet for a moment, your hand unbuttoning your jeans before your desperate fingers grazed over your half contained cock. You couldn't help but shiver, still keeping your mouth shut, thankfully, when the bathroom door opened and the room soon went quiet, wondering who was in here and what they were doing to be so quiet. 

"You want some help with that problem of yours, Smalls?" Eddie's familiar voice popped up and an audible sharp breath left your lips. Was this some cruel prank? Probably. You didn't reply. 

"Is that a no? A yes? I know you don't like to talk but c'mon man! I need somethin. Knock once for yes and twice for no then. Since you're not much of a talker." Eddie finally stated. You remained quiet for a moment. What if you said yes and it was a prank, you've made a fool of yourself. But what if it wasn't and you miss you only opportunities to have some fun with your crush. 

After a moment you knocked twice, not wanting to risk it at the time of your decision. A moment of silence lingered before you heard Eddie speak. 

"Alright then. I'll see ya next week Smalls." He said and went to leave, you listened to the door open before you suddenly, on autopilot, knocked once loudly. The sound of footsteps stopped. 

"Was that deliberate?" He asked as he slowly let the door close a bit but didn't let go. You knocked once for yes once again and you heard the door shut and the gentle approach of Eddie's shoes. 

"Open up then" he asked, his voice not quite as soft as before but wasn't demanding at all. You half pulled your jeans up since letting them fall to the floor as you opened the door was far more embarrassing. 

"How long have you been avoiding me? Was it all because of this?" He asked, smirking as he stepped in and forced you back, his hands making quick work of locking the door. You swallowed hard and looked away, your cheeks were red as he called you out. Plain and simple while you jeans were slipping off your hips and Eddie locked his gaze to you twitching cock. 

You forced a nod, it was tiny but enough for Eddie. 

"I knew there was a rumour but personally I never believe rumours off the bat. You've heard all the ones about me I'm sure, and most of them ain't true" Eddie stated with a smirk before he stepped forward. 

"Other than the one where I fuck real good" he whispered into your ear, making you shiver while your legs wanted to crumble. How could this man make you melt, you had been fine with other people but Eddie fucking Munson almost had you on your knees begging. Your chest was heaving slightly and your fingers fumbled together while you avoided their gaze. You could sense the smirk Eddie was wearing, his lips moving from your ear to your neck, his hot tongue gliding down the skin of your neck to your shoulder where his teeth lightly grazed a spot to place a small hickey, this was enough for a few shuddered breaths to become audible.

"Take it off. Your jeans and boxers, I don't care about anything else" He stated as he reached into his bag and pulled out a condom, he was prepared as always, he wasn't a man whore who always expected to have sex but he preferred to be safe of course. You felt too embarrassed to move for a moment before you finally gave in and pulled your jeans and boxers off, letting them rest on the ground. While you remained in your shoes and shirt. You tried to hide your skinny frame with baggy clothing, not that you were bony but had a rather feminine waist that you hated.

"Go on, pretty boy, touch yourself" he asked as he smirked, undoing his belts and pulling his jeans down, watching as you wrapped your hand around your cock and pumped gently. He was definitely the pretty boy here but you took any compliment Eddie gave. A string of breathy moans filled the room and Eddie's sharp breaths joined in when he started to massage his growing dick in his boxers. 

"C'mere" he breathed as he grabbed you and pulled you into a kiss, teeth smashing together a little but you didn't complain, you just melted into the kiss. It was sloppy and a little desperate but you doubted he cared at all, you didn't. You felt a little embarrassed at how your naked cock pressed against Eddie's clothed one, still you pressed your hips into his to test the water. The action earned a breathy moan into the kiss, your heart fluttering at the sound. At this point he could tell you to cum and you would, his voice alone was enough. 

You felt Eddie pull away to pull down his boxers, his other hand had been holding a condom. He fiddled with it momentarily to put it on, his head resting on your shoulder. That moment was a little awkward since it was just a waiting game. After that was out of the way though, he grabbed you by your ass and pulled you in against his body. He searched your eyes a little before you nodded, you knew what he was asking for; permission. 

He brushed some hair out of your face, how could he spare time to act so sweet? You didn't know. 

"I'm going to ruin that pretty little ass of yours, understand?" He told you lowly. His voice a whisper as someone walked in. You felt a wave of fear as you looked toward the noise only for Eddie to grab your face and force you to look at him. 

"Eyes on me Smalls. And only me" he commanded, running his thumb over your lower lip briefly. As soon as the bathroom door shut and you two were alone once again he switched your position so now your back was against the door. He firmly pressed against you, grinding his hips into yours, you noticed how he watched you melt under him, because of him. Small moans slipping out before he stopped, long enough for you to open your eyes. 

You noticed the greedy look in his eyes. His tongue ran over his teeth a little. 

"Up" he told you and you moved with him. Your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms around his neck. You felt him adjust his thick cock under you to line himself up before you helped him push in. Your thighs tightened his waist, burying your face in his cologne covered neck. Moaning quite loudly though you got a quick 'shh' in return. 

"As much as I'd love to hear your voice, I don't wanna be caught." He didn't explain further, you knew. If you two were caught you'd lose your chance to graduate, this was your last chance for both of you. He didn't move, you let yourself adjust once you were fully sitting on him, relaxing after a moment. Your mouth latched onto Eddie's neck, sucking a bit until a hickey formed, you knew it would be hidden from view by his hair so you paid no mind to how big you made it. You heard him hum a little at the feeling of your teeth on his neck, thrusting slowly up into you but you used his neck to muffle yourself. A flush of pain with each thrust made your eyes water, yet pleasure replaced it right after each time, letting out a small and muffled sob. 

"Shh s'alright. The pain won't last long" he comforted with a hand on your back, keeping his thrusts steady for the time being. You could tell he was forcing his moans back, just heavy breaths and quiet grunts coming from him every few thrusts. The pain wore off, you pushed yourself deeper into him and in return he sped up, his thrusts a little rougher too. Your moans, though they had to be muffled, became louder, more desperate. Your hand finding Eddie's hair and gripping tightly, the other clinging to his shirt. 

"Fuck you're tight. Relax-" He breathed, his head falling back a little into your grasp. He turned the you to the wall instead, forcing you to lean against it. Your left hand holding on top of the stall door and the other on Eddie's shoulder, and with your weight against the wall and some more freedom he thrusted rougher into you, back repeatedly hitting the wall as you desperately tried to conceal your noises, you noticed he was having a hard time keeping his mouth shut too. The door rattled a little but not enough to hear outside the bathroom. Your cock was wet with your own precum, your hoodie getting a bit dirty but you couldn't care less right now. Soon the moans started to slip through, not too loud but loud enough enough to notice if you stood outside the bathroom door long enough. The immense feeling of pleasure made you careless about getting caught despite the consequences, clearly Eddie felt the same since he also was starting to get a little vocal. 

"Yeah- that's it. Ugh you feel so good-" he groaned softly, his voice contradictory to the way he was pounding into you. His deep and quick thrusts drove you closer to your end, skin slapping skin, moans synchronising as you both worked your way up that hill. 

"Eddie-" the whispered name slipped your lips, earning a deep kiss, sloppy but still passionate. Quickening moans slipped into the kiss from both of you, his thrusts becoming a bit sloppy too as he got closer, slamming into you roughly as he came, your abdomen and hoodie being splattered with your own at the same time. You had both moaned into kiss but had since pulled away, your forehead resting on his as he remained in you while you both caught your breaths. 

"Good boy~" he breathed and planted a kiss on your sweaty forehead. You felt him chuckle a bit before speaking. 

"You're still so tight, sucking me in even after I pounded into you? I think you want another round, don't yo-" his words cut off by your startle and your vision coming back, everything being blurry. You were a little disoriented as you lifted your head from your arms and saw Eddie placing his bag on the table. 

"You alright, Smalls? Want some help on that worksheet or something?" Eddie asked as he sat opposite you in after school class. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x male reader #fanfiction #fanfic #eddie stranger things