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star-ocean-peahen · 7 months

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After watching Cinderella (the original animated movie, which was my favorite as a child), it strikes me how it solves many common problems people have with this fairy tale. Like:

Why did they try to identify the mystery girl using her shoe size? Because the bullheaded king's only clue to her identity was the shoe the Grand Duke picked up off the steps.

Why didn't the prince recognize her by her face? Because his father wouldn't involve him in the process at all, and wasn't the one going around trying to find her.

Why did the prince want to marry a lady he only met that night? Because his father was going to force him to marry someone, and he genuinely liked this woman.

Why did Cinderella want to marry a man she only met that night? Because marriage was her best and most secure way to freedom. Fucked up, but you can't say it's unrealistic for the setting of a fairy tale. She also genuinely liked him.

If they're using the slipper to find her, wouldn't it be more sensible to search for the person with the other slipper? Yes. The King is purposefully nonsensical and the Duke is purposefully terrified enough of him to carry out his orders to the letter. Furthermore, they end up doing that in the end anyway, because the Duke's glass slipper is shattered, and Cinderella brings out the one she has to prove her identity.

Why didn't the stepmother and stepsisters recognize Cinderella at the ball? Because they were dancing too far away, and then left the party to dance in private, which was possible because the King wanted very badly for his son to hit it off with someone and tried to arrange the best conditions for that to happen.

Why didn't Cinderella save herself? Because in real life, abuse victims should not have to shoulder that responsibility, and usually can't. In real life, you need and deserve an external support system. Asking for help, in this kind of situation, is very important. She is saved by others because she is loved. Because she is not alone. Because she has friends who love her, and want her to be happy and safe and free. Because in real life, people who want to help someone who is suffering are like the mice. We can't pull out miracle solutions, but we can provide companionship and if we're in the right place at the right time, we can help the person find a better life.

Why didn't the fairy godmother save Cinderella from her abusive household, or try to help her sooner? Because she's magic, and magic can't solve your problems. Quote: "Like all dreams, well, I'm afraid it can't last forever." This (and Cinderella's dream of going to the ball) is a metaphor for pleasurable things in bad circumstances. An ice cream won't get rid of your depression, but it will provide you with momentary happiness to bolster you, as well as the reminder that happiness in general is still possible for you. Cinderella doesn't want to go to the ball so she can get away from her stepmother and stepsisters, or so she can meet someone to marry and leave with. She wants to go to the ball to remind herself that she can still have things she wants. That her desires matter. This is important because the movie does a very good job of illustrating Lady Tremaine's subtle abuse tactics, all of which invisibly press the message that Cinderella doesn't matter. While going to the ball and fulfilling her dreams may not be a victory in the material sense, it is still a victory against Lady Tremaine's efforts.

Why is Cinderella's choice to be kind and obedient framed as a good thing, when you are not obligated to be kind to your abuser? This one walks a very fine line, but I think the movie still makes it make sense. Lady Tremaine never acknowledges her cruelty. She always frames her punishments of Cinderella as Cinderella's fault. Cinderella is interrupting, Cinderella is shirking her duties, Cinderella is playing vicious practical jokes. Cinderella is still a member of the family, of course she can go to the ball, provided she meet these impossible conditions. Lady Tremaine's tactics are designed to make Cinderella feel like she must always be in the wrong and her stepmother must always be in the right. If Cinderella calls her stepmother out on her cruelty, or attempts to fight back, Lady Tremaine can frame that as Cinderella being ungrateful, cruel, broken, evil, etc. If Cinderella responds to her stepmother's cruelty defiantly (in the way she's justified to), she's not taking control out of Lady Tremaine's hands. Disobedience can be spun back into her stepmother's control. She wants Cinderella to be angry and sad and show how much she's hurting. So since Cinderella is adapting to her situation, she chooses to be kind. Not only because she naturally wants to be and it's part of her personality, but because it is a form of defiance in its own way, and it allows her to keep a reminder of her agency and value. Her choice to be kind is her chance to keep her own narrative alive: she is not obeying because her stepmother wants her to and she has to do what her stepmother does, but because she wants to. It's a small distinction, but one that makes all the difference in terms of keeping her hope and identity. (Fuck, I wrote a whole paragraph about how this doesn't mean you can't be angry at people who hurt you or that you need to be kind to deserve help, and then deleted it by accident. Uh. Try again.) Expressing anger and pain is an important part of regaining autonomy and healing. Although it is commendable to be kind while you are suffering, it is NOT required for you to get help or be worthy of help. If Cinderella's recovery was explored beyond "happily ever after" she would need to let herself be angry and sad to heal. Cinderella is not only kind because it comes naturally to her, but because it's her defense against the abuse she's suffering. Everyone's story and experiences are different, and one does not invalidate the other.

Bonus round for answers that aren't part of the movie:

Why didn't Cinderella run away? Where would she go? Genuinely, in hundreds-of-years-ago France, where would she go if she snuck out of the window with a change of clothes? With her step-family, she's miserable and abused, but she's fed, clothed, and in no danger of dying or being taken advantage of by anyone other than her stepmother and stepsisters. Even if she escapes and manages to find financial security, her stepmother might be able to find her and get her back.

Why didn't Cinderella burn the house down with them inside it/slit their throats in the night/poison their food/etc.? Because that's a revenge fantasy, and this story is a fantasy about being saved. There's nothing wrong with making Cinderella into a revenge fantasy. That's perfectly fine, as long as you acknowledge that the other type of fantasy is also a valid interpretation. (I mean, the original fairy tale features the stepsisters getting their feet mutilated and all three of them getting their eyes pecked out, so go for it.)

Why isn't Cinderella more proactive in general? Because she's a child who has been abused for the back half of her life, who has had to be focused on survival because. you know. she's an abused kid.

How did she dance in glass slippers? Gotta agree with you there man, that's weird.

#cinderella #cinderella (1950)#fairy tales

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foone · 1 year

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Look if there's one thing, just one thing, that I wish everyone understood about archiving, it's this:

We can always decide later that we don't need something we archived.

Like, if we archive a website that's full of THE WORST STUFF, like it turns out it's borderline illegal bot-made spam art, we can delete it. Gone.

We can also chose not to curate. You can make a list of the 100 Best Fanfic and just quietly not link to or mention the 20,000 RPFs of bigoted youtubers eating each other. No problem!

We can also make things not publicly available. This happens surprisingly often: like, sometimes there'll be a YouTube channel of alt-right bigotry that gets taken down by YouTube, but someone gives a copy to the internet archive, and they don't make it publicly available. Because it might be useful for researchers, and eventually historians, it's kept. But putting it online for everyone to see? That's just be propaganda for their bigotry. So it's hidden, for now. You can ask to see it, but you need a reason.

And we can say all these things, we can chose to delete it later, we can not curate it, we can hide it from public view... But we only have these options BECAUSE we archived it.

If we didn't archive it, we have no options. It is gone. I'm focusing on the negative here, but think about the positive side:

What if it turns out something we thought was junk turns out to be amazing new art?

What if something we thought of as pointless and not worth curating turns out to be influential?

What if something turns out to be of vital historical importance, the key that is used to solve a great mystery, the Rosetta stone for an era?

All of those things are great... If we archived it when we could.

Because this is an asymmetric problem:

If we archived it and it turns out it's not useful, we can delete.

If we didn't archive it and it turns out it is useful, OOPS!

You can't unlose something that's been lost. It's gone. This is a one way trip, it's already fallen off the cliff. Your only hope is that you're wrong about it being lost, and there is actually still a copy somewhere. If it's truly lost, your only option is to build a time machine.

And this has happened! There are things lost, so many of them that we know of, and many more we don't know of. There are BOOKS OF THE BIBLE referenced in the canon that simply do not exist anymore. Like, Paul says to go read his letter to the Laodiceans, and what did that letter say? We don't know. It's gone.

The most celebrated playwright in the English tradition has plays that are just gone. You want to perform or watch Love's Labours Won? TOO FUCKING BAD.

Want to watch Lon Cheyney's London After Midnight, a mystery-horror silent film from 1927? TOO BAD. The MGM vault burnt down in 1965 and the last known copy went up in smoke.

If something still exists, if it still is kept somewhere, there is always an opportunity to decide if it's worthy of being remembered. It can still be recognized for its merits, for its impact, for its importance, or just what it says about the time and culture and people who made it, and what they believed and thought and did. It can still be a useful part of history, even if we decide it's a horrible thing, a bigoted mess, a terrible piece of art. We have the opportunity to do all that.

If it's lost... We are out of options. All we can do is research it from how it affected other things. There's a lot of great books and plays and films and shows that we only know of because other contemporary sources talked about them so much. We're trying to figure out what it was and what it did, from tracing the shadow it cast on the rest of culture.

This is why archivists get anxious whenever people say "this thing is bad and should not be preserved". Because, yeah, maybe they're right. Maybe we'll look back and decide "yeah, that is worthless and we shouldn't waste the hard drive or warehouse space on it".

But if they're wrong, and we listen to them, and don't archive... We don't get a second chance at this. And archivists have been bitten too many times by talk of "we don't need copies, the original studio has the masters!" (it burnt down), or "this isn't worth preserving, it's just some damn silly fad" (the fad turned out to be the first steps of a cultural revolution), or "this media is degenerate/illegal/immoral" (it turns out those saying that were bigots and history doesn't agree with their assessment).

So we archive what we can. We can always decide later if it doesn't need preserving. And being a responsible archivist often means preserving things but not making them publicly available, or being selective in what you archive (I back up a lot of old computer hard drives. Often they have personal photos and emails and banking information! That doesn't get saved).

But it's not really a good idea to be making quality or moral judgements of what you archive. Because maybe you're right, maybe a decade or two later you'll decide this didn't need to be saved. And you'll have the freedom to make that choice. But if you didn't archive it, and decide a decade later you were wrong... It's just gone now. You failed.

Because at the end of the day I'd rather look at an archive and see it includes 10,000 things I think are worthless trash, than look at an archive of on the "best things" and know that there are some things that simply cannot be included. Maybe they were better, but can't be considered as one of the best... Because they're just gone. No one has read them, no one has been able to read them.

We have a long history of losing things. The least we can do going forward is to try and avoid losing more. And leave it up to history to decide if what we saved was worth it.

My dream is for a future where critics can look at stuff made in the present and go "all of this was shit. Useless, badly made, bigoted, horrible. Don't waste your time on it!"

Because that's infinitely better than the future where all they can do is go "we don't know of this was any good... It was probably important? We just don't know. It's gone. And it's never coming back"

#Archivist ranting

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 months

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maybe a lil fic with steve yk like he thinks you're together but r just thinks that they're just friends cuz she thinks he acts that way with everyone (he doesn't). so when he's like "we're going on that dinner date, right?" and she's just so confused and flabbergasted "since when did we start dating??"

I've missed your writing on my dashboard ily<3

i’m glad someone misses my writing. i hope this is okay🩷

steve harrington x fem!reader (this ended up being long… i’m shocked)

masterlist

“here comes loverboy.”

your brows pinched together at max’s words. looking over your shoulder to see steve leaving the register, heading back towards your booth with a pastel pink box in hand.

the boy slid into the open seat beside you. shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. his warmth radiating off his body blankets you from the february chill that seeps into the diner’s walls.

“what’s in the box?” robin questioned while making a grab for it. steve quickly slapped- gently tapped- the approaching hand away. robin making a scene for no one.

“not for you, buckley. for my favorite girl.” and steve looked directly at you.

“aw, thanks steve-o.” max fawned. a simple giggle slipped from your mouth while steve rolled his eyes. “not for you either, rugrat. only for my favorite, most special girl.” finally sliding the pastry box in front of you.

steve tapped his fingers against the table top, “they had your go-tos so i got one of each.” your cheeks warmed as you opened the top, “you didn’t have to, stevie.”

“yeah, stevie. what about us?” robin pointed between her and max, a twisted pout to her face.

steve eyed them, “what about you two? get your own stuff.” huffing like they were insane to think steve would do anything of that level for them.

eyeing the different options you grabbed a donut and proceeded to spilt the item into four small bites. handing off two for max and robin, replacing them with another two, one for you and the other for steve. hand waiting for steve, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist delicately as he bites into his awaiting treat. you chuckle at the silliness.

“you too are gross.” robin declared with her mouth full. steve copied her actions, “says you. close your mouth while chewing.” placing his hand over his mouth in after thought.

“so,” speaking up to change the subject, “any nice plans this week?” referring to valentine’s day on wednesday.

“lucas says he’s taking me some place special, which might be the arcade.” max played it cool but you could tell it affected her in a good way.

“band practice is my special valentine. can’t complain too much.” robin punctuated her sentence with a sip of water.

“what’s the dynamic duo gonna do on the day of love?” max teased, batting her lashes while cupping her cheeks.

you shrugged, “don’t think we have plans-“ “yes we do.” steve is quick to fix you misunderstanding.

there was a surprised spark in your eyes, “we do?”

steve’s brows furrowed, “yeah. i told you about the dinner date i scheduled.” now your bows scrunched, “yeah, but i thought you were going on a date.”

steve leaned towards you, “i am. with you.” punctuation on those two words, letting every letter hit you in the face.

you sat shell shocked, eyes focused over steve’s shoulder while robin and max almost jumped from their vinyl seats.

“for real?” “since when were you dating?”

at the word dating you shook away any incoming thoughts and waves away their curiosity. “we’re not dating. we’re just friends. steve’s like this with everyone.” knowing that would end any discussion.

three sets of eyes stared you down, you wanted to shrink into the ground from the attention. “what?” a squeak at their baring eyes.

“steve is only sugary sweet to you. do you not remember five minutes ago? when he bought you treats, without you asking, then told me and max to fuck off.” robin questioned.

“language-“ “i didn’t say that-“

max waved you both off, “whatever. what robin is trying to get at is, you are dating. steve openly flirty banters with you, you reciprocate in a flustered mess, and steve has hearts beaming from his corneas.” max’s palms smack onto the table.

your mouth opened, then closed. open, close, open, close. “i just,” you hands flapped about, “i- i thought he just- you know…”

“no we don’t, but please, tell us.” robin eyed you wolfishly.

anxiously you pinched the skin around your fingers, teeth biting into your bottom lip, eyes darting everywhere not knowing what your next move was.

“alright, enough teasing. let’s just get everyone home.” steve broke the silence. sliding out beside you then holding a waiting hand out, you couldn’t help but just to stare at it, like it might bite you or something.

“it’s alright, sweetheart. we’ll talk later.” soft, kind filled brown eyes watched your movements as you set your palm to his and he help you exit the booth smoothly. steve gave a squeeze before releasing his hold and your chest felt heavy again.

he called you sweetheart. he usually throws pet names about, but this one just felt… different. your brain connected to it differently.

robin and max were silent on the drive to their houses, radio at medium volume, but they kept the backseat of the bmw silent as a church mouse.

you could barely look steve’s way, barely glance at him from your peripheral. he didn’t seem tense from your words just… dejected. a gloomy cloud hanging over his head and it’s because you friend zoned him while he thought you both were together.

no chance he wants to be with you now, blew it for yourself before you even had a proper chance. you wallow in silence.

robin was the first to be dropped off. steve came to a slow stop in front of her tiny house, shifting into park so he could look back with a gentle smile, “call if you need anything. and try not to do anything clumsy.”

robin rolled her eyes in a playful manner, “i’ll try not to dad.” and she left with a comforting squeeze of your bicep.

steve waited until robin waved you off an closed her front door. “okay mayfield, home or someplace else?” he always asked when driving her.

“umm, wheeler’s. please.” yeah, she felt sorry about earlier. her please and thank you’s were a bit sparring.

again silence. you wanted to speak, but with max still in the car you held your tongue. pinching at the material of your jeans while eyeing the scenery passing by in a blur, you couldn’t help flinching at the touch of skin covering your own. you looked down cautiously to see steve’s right hand resting over your fidgeting one, stopping your mindless action.

the fifteen minute drive pasted into two minutes when you saw the big two story home come into view. you saw a couple of bikes laying in the front yard and suspected the boys also were invading the family home.

“thanks for the ride. i’ll be fine to get home later.” shuffling mixed with her words before popping the left back door open. a soft thud followed her exit then she stopped outside your window and lightly tapped.

you rolled it down with concern at her sorrow filled expression. “i’m sorry. about earlier. i wasn’t trying to-“

“max,” cutting her off, “it’s okay. i know you didn’t mean harm and plus, might’ve opened my eyes today.” playing coy with your words.

a smile flickered at her lips while her eyes looked over your shoulder. she left with a pep to her step and you were finally alone with your steve.

“so wanna-“ “did you really think we weren’t dating?”

you could help your light chuckle, “getting straight to the point i see.”

steve sputtered, “i just- it felt like we’ve been on multiple dates. and- and we’re very touchy with each other, always there for each other. i just- i just thought we were dating after the trip to chicago.”

that did turn into a pretty romantic trip now that you thought back on certain scenarios. “i think i’m just blind to romantic advances. didn’t think i was your type.” mumbling the last part.

you’ve seen the girls steve’s been with in the past. all perfect, petite, not quite hair out of place and makeup painted over delicate skin. you weren’t those things, you were messy at times, flyaways sticking up from nonexistent static, stains appearing on your clothes without knowing.

you didn’t deserve steve, he deserved someone-

“hey.” a finger crooked under your chin and moved your head from its slumped position. steve homely brown eyes darted over your face, your imperfections. you wanted to flinch away. he must’ve read your mind since her cupped your cheeks with his warm palms.

“you are none of those things i know your thinking too much about. you are completely deserving of being loved deeply and i’m happy to be that person to pour his soul into yours. if you’ll verbally say yes so we’re on the same page this time.”

your own hands wandered to hold onto steve’s wrist, “that was quite romantic of you. didn’t think of you to be a sap.” deflecting a bit from nerves.

steve smiled brightly, “for you i’ll always be a sap. practically turn into honey for you.” leaning over his console to press a kiss onto the tip of your nose. “so what do you say, wanna give us a proper go?”

you bit into your bottom lip, “i guess i could try.” smiling so wide your cheeks ached as steve dotted kisses over your face, not suppressing your giggles of glee.

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x female!reader #erin's blurb request

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niuxita21 · 1 year

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She’s dying to be a lesbian, show, WHY won’t you let her?????

#til jail do us part #I only have the first 2 letters of viri's last name so sadly she will go untagged #shitty screencap posts (TM)#finally finished this show and it was enjoyable if a bit sloppily written towards the end but we're not really here for the plot are we?#in terms of the emerging yet still very niche genre of spanglish shows set in miami it was leaps and bounds better than now and then #which is not saying anything because that show was TERRIBLE but still #and viri was the true mvp (not JUST bc she spent half the season wanting to be a lesbian almost MORE than actual lesbians lmao)#kinda hope it gets a season 2 but I'd probably only watch it if it's confirmed that viri at the very least gets to explore her sexuality #I mean come ON the fact that she's the only one of the core 4 whose husband died has to mean SOMETHING #but lbr I'd probably watch it even if viri remained straight #because fuck if she didn't get like ten billion times more gorgeous since becoming a widow like damn #even the terrible wig was working for me #ALSO right after she said this there was a shot where she looked SO much taller than kate del castillo #which given that they were both barefoot at the beach makes me wanna jump off a cliff #why must this show torture me like this?????#if viri won't be a lesbian then someone PLS get sylvia sáenz her own show bc that woman is a star #(preferably one in which she gets to kiss a lady y'know for science)

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hairmetal666 · 10 months

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The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.

It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:

"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."

His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.

"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.

"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."

He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.

---

The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.

---

The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.

Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"

"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.

Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."

Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.

"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."

The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"

"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.

Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.

"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.

"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.

"This is really good, Will."

Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"

"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"

"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"

Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"

"Really?" Their eyes light up.

"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."

"Cool," says Dustin.

He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.

Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.

"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.

He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."

"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.

"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.

"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"

"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"

"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"

"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."

They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."

The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."

Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.

---

He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.

---

His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.

"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.

"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.

He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"

She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."

He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.

"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."

"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"

They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."

El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."

"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.

---

Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.

Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."

---

He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.

Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).

"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"

"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"

"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.

Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."

"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.

"What's wrong?"

"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."

"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.

He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"

And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."

"What?"

"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"

"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."

Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.

"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."

"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.

"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."

"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.

"Um. Yes?"

Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"

"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.

---

Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.

Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"

"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."

"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."

"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"

Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.

Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.

"It's not funny!" Steve says.

That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."

Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.

Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.

"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.

"What, like, make them think they failed?"

"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."

Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"

"Why don't you get over here and see."

As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 10 months

Text

Yandere! Himbo! Werewolf! x Witch! Fem! Reader

TW: forced impregnation, mind control, gore, non-con, dubcon

Kofi: Wanna buy me a coffee?

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒

The deep woods is your home. The animals within it respect you and often help you. The sun's light even points out the trails to walk upon. Though, after the first full moon in January, the wolf moon, things started to change in the forest. Glowing eyes would be in the darkness near your cottage. The noises of animals that filled the forest suddenly began to disappear. Clumps of hair started to appear at your front door. But the most frightening part for you is the mutilated human bodies appearing in your woods.

They were bloody and torn like a wild animal had gotten to them. Hearts were missing from their chests. But, most importantly, there were letters carved into each victim's chest. Each letter slowly spells out your name. Luckily, the new chief of the village, Aaron Flor, believes you when you say you're not involved in these murders. But he did say he wanted to speak with you at sunset, which it now is.

"Y/N, are you here?" Aaron asks, knocking on your door.

"Coming!" You reply, turning off the stove and letting the lavender scent fill the room.

You open the door and see Aaron with a bouquet of roses.

"These are for you. I found these on a bush near your cottage," Aaron says, blushing a little.

"Aaron, that bush is mine. But I still appreciate your gift," You say, placing the flowers in a nearby vase.

"Oh, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. For the last couple of weeks, I've been changing. I've gotten stronger and dumber. And I can't stop thinking of you and your…perfect body."

"Aaron, sit down. You're practically sweating buckets."

You guide Aaron to your bed and lay him down on it. You go into the bathroom to make him a cold washcloth. You place it on his head, and he grabs your wrist. He easily pulls your whole body on top of him and wraps an arm around your waist.

"Aaron, what are you doing? You're a good, virtuous man," You say as Aaron's lips draw closer.

"Hehe…your lips are so plump and kissable," Aaron giggles, his hand rubbing your ass. "Mmn!"

Aaron's peck on the lips leaves you flustered, and he uses it as a chance to undo your hair bun.

"You don't need this bun when there's about to be a bun in your oven," Aaron coos, letting a stray finger go from your stomach to your crotch. "Let's get naked. We need to start working on our family together."

"What family?! Aaron, you're delusional and need to rest!" You yell, but it's too late. Aaron is already untying the back of your dress.

It drops to the floor, leaving your naked body vulnerable as Aaron begins to undress.

"Aaron, I know you're not yourself, but we should think about this. I'm sure you'll be much happier if we have a family after we're married like everyone expects of you."

"I can marry you after filling you up and making you mine."

The moonlight seeps into the room, and you hear his bones crack. You can only watch in horror as brown ears grow at the top of his head, his stature becomes bulkier, hairier, and taller, and his teeth resemble a wolf's. His clothes tear, and he walks towards you with his now bigger penis erect.

"A-Aaron, we can find a cure for you-"

Aaron slips a digit in your panties and slices them off. He gets on his knees and takes a deep whiff of your crotch.

"I can smell your ovulation. It's so intoxicating," Aaron swoons, his long licking your pussy.

"Ah-Aaron!" You moan, tightening your legs to close him off.

"It's ok, darling. I'll make this pleasurable and as comfortable as possible," Aaron replies.

Aaron throws you over his shoulder and carries you through the forest to a dark cave that smells of musk and sex. He puts you in a nest made of bloody clothes, shredded fur, and silk sheets. Aaron kisses your neck and gently spreads your legs. You worriedly glance at his big, veiny cock, and Aaron throws you onto his hairy chest. He holds your face on his right side and places a comforting hand on the back of your head.

"It's ok. My scent will make you calmer and more prepared to be my mate," Aaron comforts, making you smell his pheromones. "Just take deep breaths, and then you'll be ready."

Forced to breathe in his scent, you take a deep breath. Your body feels more relaxed, and your mind becomes a pup and mating-filled mess.

"Aaron, you smell so nice and…safe," You comment, your hips unconsciously grinding against his crotch. "Ooohh…"

"You want my pups, don't you?" Aaron asks, his hand going to your pussy and rubbing your clit.

"Oh, yes! I would love to be your mate! I want your seed! I want it!" You beg, looking into his canine-like eyes.

Aaron chuckles and places his dick inside you. You moan into his chest, making his cock twitch.

"Aaron, please! I want it so bad!" You plead, starting to ride his dick.

"I know, sweetie! I know!" Aaron responds, leaning forward and placing you in a mating press.

Aaron begins to thrust into you, and all you can do is moan for him like a good mate. Aaron pants like a dog, and soon enough, his thrusts start to get faster.

"Take it! Take it! Take it like a good bitch!" Aaron moans, his knot growing by the minute.

"Ah! Yes! Yes! I'm a good bitch! I'm your good bitch!" You coo, your eyes rolling into your forehead.

Aaron gently slaps your cheek and makes your eyes focus on him.

"Tongue out!" Aaron commands, sticking his tongue, expecting yours to touch his.

You stick your tongue out, and Aaron gives you a big, sloppy kiss as his balls empty into you. You moan into his mouth as your orgasm rocks your body. His hands grip around yours tighten, and you mentally tap out at the feeling of multiple strings of semen entering your pussy, ready to make you pregnant.

"Oh, darling, you have a cute little bulge from my cock," Aaron teases, running a hand around your stomach.

"Ah…ah…ahaha…" You moan, deliriously staring at Aaron.

"I might as well make sure your boobs are ready for our pups."

Aaron sucks your right nipple, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through your spine. The other boob is stimulated by his hand rubbing and pulling your nipple.

~~~~~ "Aaron! Aaron, what have we done?!" You scream, looking at your naked body next to his.

Aaron, now back to his senses but still werewolf-like, quickly calms you down with a kiss.

"I told you I'd take care of you. Now rest. Your body needs it."

"But, why are you a werewolf?"

"I got bit by a wolf in the French countryside a while back. But it doesn't matter now. What matters now is our pups."

You cum at the mention of your impregnation, and that's when you notice Aaron is still inside you.

"Now go to sleep unless you want to be fucked to sleep."

"Yes, my love."

#yandere smut #yandere werewolf #yandere teratophilia #yandere noncon #yandere dubcon #f! reader smut #smut #yandere male #yandere monster #1k notes #2k notes

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violetarks · 3 months

Text

"they don't love me like you do!"

anime: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru

summary: despite the countless valentines day offers he receives, satoru will only ever accept one confession. but you're confessing... to his best friend?

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, high school! au

"please accept these chocolates, gojo!" says the girl in front of him. satoru casually pulls down his glasses enough to see the red, heart-shaped cardboard box.

"oh, uh... thank you." he awkwardly says. this girl was two year below him, judging by the colours of her indoor shoes. he didn't even know her name. "this is... a surprise."

"i've liked you ever since orientation day. i hope you like these." she says with a nervous grin. she's stiff as he takes them out of her hands, standing up straight to stare at the tall man. "thank you for always being so funny and helping everyone you can."

"ah, you're welcome." he says, tucking the chocolates and the letter taped to it under his arm. luckily, the lunch bell had rung and everyone should've been off to enjoy their break. "well, i'll... see you around."

"b—bye, gojo!" she calls, waving at him as he walks the other way. he gives a kind smile before he turns the corner, dropping it immediately.

on the way to class, multiple other students watched him as he carelessly skimmed through the letter before stuffing it in his book bag, ready to throw it (and the others) away once home. valentines day was this week and it was two days before it today. yet satoru had received tons of confession letters and date proposals, none of which he had the intention of accepting.

plopping down in his chair, he groans, hanging his head, "ugh! i hate being so loveable..."

suguru rolls his eyes, outting his book down. "here we go again." he grunts, shaking his head.

"seriously! why can't i be left alone around valentines day?" he questions out lout, pulling his lunch box from his bag.

shoko bites into her sandwich as she listens to him. as she swallows, she retorts, "maybe it's because you flirt with every living being on earth." satoru sends him a pointed look. "so how many letters today?"

"seven." satoru responds, knocking his bag.

"and?"

"none of them were from y/n." he sighs out, picking up his chopsticks.

"wait, y/n?" suguru pipes up, putting his juicebox down, "as in y/n from class d?"

the blue-eyed boy raises a brow, halting his movements. "uh, yeah? l/n y/n." he recalls to his friend, tilting his head, "what? i've been talking about 'em for the past three months—suguru, have you been listening to me at all?"

"oh!" the dark-haired boy chuckles, nodding his head, "i know y/n. we're in the same literature class."

satoru stares at him in disbelief. the other students surrounding them are in their own little world, but the three of them didn't even mind them hearing if they tried. shoko continues to eat her food while suguru shrugs at his friend.

"are you kidding me?" satoru gasps out, waving a hand in the air, "i've been trying to get with them for three months and you tell me this just now?"

"you should've been more specific, man." suguru retorts, waving it off, "anyway, you gonna' ask them to be your valentine?"

satoru sighs loudly, hanging his head back, "i don't know... we only share bio together, i bet there's a lot of people who have asked them to be their valentine. they probably won't even accept mine."

shoko purses her lips and stretches her arms. "i don't know about that." she claims, "you're a pretty guy and everyone knows you. i doubt they'd pass up the chance to revel in that popularity."

"... thanks, shoko."

soon enough, the bell rings and the day goes on.

the next day, satoru notices something in your hand during biology class.

"whatchu' got there, y/n?" he asks, peaking over your shoulder. he sat behind you, enough room to see the handwritten letter you were writing.

"satoru!" you jump a little, covering the page. he furrows his brow. "it's, uh... i'm just writng something."

"is it... for valentines day tomorrow?" he inquires, curious to who was the lucky person. but you were still hiding it from him!

"no, of course not." you were lying, he could tell by the way you look to the left. a pout falls on his lips. "it's notes. for another class."

"oh... okay." he responds, a bit disappointed. why would you lie to him? he sits back in his chair, writing down some paragraphs from the textbook mindlessly. he saw the way your elbow quickly shifted, you were writing faster. your head was down too, never looking up. you were so concentrated.

he's known you for a couple of months now. you bumped into him on the way to school, and you admitted to him that you were a bit lost since you didn't live around here. satoru, being the gentleman he is, offered to escort you. you thought he was some creep (he tried reaching to hold your hand and when you jerked away on instinct, he played it off as it being the wind).

but once realising you two shared some classes together, you grew fond of him. you knew of the countless students throwing themselves at him. both older and younger. he was the school heartthrob. it's a shame though, only your smile could make his heart race like he makes others do.

when you gave him your lucky pen when he told you he didn't study and he was freaking out, you had this kind smile that made him think 'i don't want anyone else to see this but me'.

and he noticed that you awkwardly took it back from him, looking away as he clasped your hands tightly in the filled hallway and thanked you. your reactions were just the cutest...

when the bell rings, you perk up, putting your 'notes' in a suspicious looking envelope and signing it off with something. you stand up and satoru is quick to walk by your side when a classmates holds his arm to talk.

"huh?" satoru grunts, furrowed brows.

"gojo, i... i wanted to give you this." they say, holding out a teddy-bear saying 'be my valentine!'. satoru frowned when he took it. "you don't have to answer today... just let me know tomorrow, please."

as they continue to talk, he sees you exit the classroom. the letter sits comfortably in your palm, and you look left, right, before walking off. satoru is electrified.

"okay, thanks!" he says, running out of the classroom while he clutches the bear in his hands.

weaving through the crowd, he looks for the top of your head. after more and more people pass him, staring at the teddy and whispering 'who gave that to him this time?', he spots you turning the corner, a nervous look on your face. he mutters out apologies as he bumps into people heading to their next class.

the hallway you're in now is empty. you stand in front of a classroom door, waiting. notably, suguru's math class.

satoru stands at the end of the corridor, behind the corner, as the classroom door opens to reveal his best friend, geto suguru.

"suguru!" you call, smile. your shoulders are straightened, you hold the letter in front of you. not scared to show him...

"oh, y/n, hey." he responds, grinning as well. the comfortability around you two was so strange to see. "what's up?"

satoru feels like he's buzzing out. he can't hear everything you're saying, but you look a bit excited yet anxious. he hears your sweet voice speak to his best friend with such kindness that he's jealous. sure, suguru was attactive and nice and he definitely didn't feed into the popularity like satoru did, but...

why did it have to be you who was interested in him?

"please, take this." you say, handing him the same letter you had before. except this time, satoru sees the 'g.s' on it. 'geto suguru'. and you take out a box of his favourite snacks to hand to him. "thank you for everything, again. you're the best."

suguru takes it with ease, seeing how you looked at him. his gaze softens as he takes the treat as well. "you're welcome, y/n. anything you need, i'll help with." he puts the letter in his own bag before slinging am arm around your shoulders. "now, what're your plans for after?"

he was blatantly asking you out now! right after satoru told him he had feelings for you! such betrayal!

you two walk to the other end of the hallway, in the direction of your literature class. satoru slumps against the wall, furrowed brows and lips pressed into a thin line. after a second, he pushes his glasses up and lets out a slow exhale. he could get over this...

"gojo! may i please have a moment of your time?"

"wait no! me first!"

"gojo, can i talk to you?"

"please accept these!"

or maybe he couldn't.

valentines day was today and you danced into school with such confidence. you had a bouquet of flowers in your arms, chocolates of the sweetest kinds, and a bag of new perfume that you knew your crush would like.

you were so excited.

satoru, who was walking a few people behind you, was not.

he saw the amount of passion you put into the holiday, and it made him sick to know it was for his best friend. the guys was in such a bad mood, he ignored suguru and shoko's calls this morning to meet up and walk to school together like usual.

satoru clicked his tongue, thinking about how dramatic the whole valentines day idea was. really, who needed it all anyway?

in homeroom, he can hear your class (which is next to his, across the hall) start whooping and cheering when you walk in. and he knows it's you by the chants of your last name being heard. he sits in his chair in anguish.

"satoru, morning. finally." shoko says, sitting down as well. she grins, bitting the popsicle stick between her lips. "where are all of your valentines presents?"

"stuffed in my shoe locker and under my desk." he claimed, opening the top of it to showcase the blaring red and pink gifts. she picked at one pocky box, munching on the biscuits. "how about you?"

"i got a couple letters and cookies in my locker." she claims, shrugging her shoulders, "lots of 'em are from the badminton team. i don't know why."

satoru shrugs as well as soon as suguru sits down in front of him. the blue-eyed students scoffs, looking away.

"good morning, satoru." he says, noticing his friend's behaviour, "what's got his panties in a twist this morning? does he know we called him a hundred times?"

"i dunno'." shoko says, looking out the window to the school garden. "ask him."

"satoru, what's wrong? didn't get enough presents this year?" he teases, leaning in his chair to poke his head, "wake up late?"

but satoru angrily swats his hand away. the raven-haire boy blinks curiously before satoru glares at him. "why didn't you tell me you were interested in y/n?" he asks, hurt.

shoko looks back to the two boys, seeing suguru just as confused as she is. "you're into y/n?"

"what? no! who said that?" suguru retorts, hands up in defense, "i'm not interested in dating y/n, swear on my life."

"that's a lie!" satoru accuses, pointing a finger against his friend's nose, "shoko, i saw him and y/n all... all... familiar yesterday after period 2! he had his arm around them!"

"suguru..." shoko warns.

"wait wait, that's—you got it all wrong." suguru groans, now understanding. he digs through his bag and pulls out a piece of paper. "here. open it."

satoru pushes away the paper reading 'g.s'. "no way! i'm not reading y/n's love letter to you!"

"ugh! just open it!" suguru grunts, shoving it onto his desk.

satoru begrudgingly takes it and gently opens the letter, not wanting to rip it. once his eyes fall upon the page, he confirms that it's your handwriting.

'thank you for being the sweetest boy to me. i am truly honoured to know such a beautiful person, inside and out.'

satoru wants to barf.

'sitting near you in biology really helped me to understand you, satoru. you're not only a pretty face, but a world-class sweet tooth, a sucker for romantic cliches and a cologne-collector.'

satoru thinks this is the most beautiful thing he's ever read.

he contiues to read, expression changing, letting shoko and suguru understand his thoughts. the girl looks to the other boy, who shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes.

"i'm confused." shoko states, tilting her head.

"y/n isn't confessing to me, they're confessing—"

"y/n is confessing to me! me, satoru!" satoru exclaims, waving the letter around like a maniac. everyone else in the class was suddenly a listener, peaking at the trio. they were interested in finding out what the one confession that resulted in this reaction was. "oh my god, oh my god!"

suguru nods his head. placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "yes, yes, they are. i was meant to give you the letter this morning to read before homeroom, but someone was pissy." he scoffs, shaking his head, "so i had to go and tell y/n that plans had changed."

"you... helped y/n plan this all out?" satoru mumbles, "but you didn't even know!"

shoko chuckles, staring out the window again.

"i just said i wasn't paying attention so you didn't think i was snooping. which i was. and i only told you i knew y/n so you wouldn't get any ideas, like this." suguru circles the air with his finger, deadpanning at the clueless satoru, "you think anyone would do this without definitive proof the other person liked them?"

satoru continues to read the letter you wrote for him before his eyes land on the ending. "'please meet me at the school fountain before homeroom ends.'" he murmurs out, blinking, "suguru—"

"you were meant to go two minutes ago." his friend sings out, standing in front of shoko's desk. he points out the window, much like other students were doing in their own classrooms. "you should..."

when his friends turn around to him, satoru is already one foot out of the door. he's rushing downstairs (down three flights of stairs, actually) with your letter clutched in his hand. he almost flies into a couple teachers on the way to the garden, only for their attention to be caught by students opening the windows and pointing outside.

when he rushed through the doors to the garden, you're staring at the floor, still holding the flowers and gifts you brought to school with you. taking a moment to gather himself, satoru runs fingers through his hair and fixes his glasses. the pair you've complimented a thousand times.

satoru walks closer to you and when he catches your eye, you stand up straight and smile.

"satoru." you chime, not missing the thousand pairs of eyes that were following your every move. "good morning. happy valentines day."

you hold out the flowers to him. it's set in a nice box, and the treats are in a gift bag. when you give it to him, your smile is awkward but hopeful.

"happy valentines day, y/n." he replies, taking it from you. he sits down on the fountain edge, and you follow along. "i'm so sorry, i... i don't have anything for you."

"no, no, no." you retort, grinning, "it's fine. this was a surprise for you, anyway."

he sighs, "no, i'm sorry... please, let me make it up to you."

you laugh a little, placing a hand over his on his lap. the flowers were sat on the fountain with his gifts. "sure thing." you retort, "hey, suguru told me that this morning—"

"i'm sorry, i know, i just thought..." he begins, cutting you off. he looks embarrassed, heavy blush falling over his cheeks. "i saw you and suguru yesterday and you gave him that letter. had me thinkin' you were confessing to him instead of me."

you let out a small chuckle, making him gulp, "oh my goodness, i'm sorry, i didn't mean for you to see that. we were trying to be sneaky."

satoru's chest feels lighter, and he feels better just hearing it from you. he links his fingers with yours, facing you fully.

"ah, no it's fine." he tells you, the most purest form of adoration in his eyes that you can see from the top of his slanted down glasses. you grin softly. "listen, i have had a crush on you for months... and i was hoping that you'd go out with me. i want a chance to get to know you personally, away from any prying eyes."

you peer to the side, seeing the people watching you. they were practically hanging out the window, waving their hands and fighting to view the whole scene for themselves. cameras took photos and videos, capturing your moment with him.

"i'd love that, satoru." you say, scanning his face, "you're the best."

it only takes him a single second to reach his hand out and brush his thumb agaisnt your cheek. you don't freeze up though, only relaxing into him. he was the most inviting guy you've ever met.

"can i kiss you?" he asks, voice unwavering. his blue eyes are staring at your face with such kindness that it cannot be described.

you don't even say anything, only leaaning forward and pressing your lips to his. he's smiling against your lips, gentle hand caressing your cheek. your eyes flutter shut, holding his hand tightly.

cheers erupt from the school. screams and whoops from guys and girls alike. most students are heartbroken due to the obvious confession. nobody had even gotten that close to satoru. no one has been able to hold his hand, let alone get him to go crazy over a letter. you got him to race out of that classroom like a madman, and everyone was surely surprised.

the shouts die down as the kiss deescalates, many of the students sighing as they're forced to move on from the heart-throb gojo satoru.

when you pull away, satoru chases, leaving a gentle kiss against your forehead. your smile is wide and you pinch his cheek softly.

"you're such a drama queen, satoru." you say, standing up, "i was wondering why everyone started yelling and staring at me all of a sudden."

satoru stands with his presents, rubbing the back of his neck as he holds your hand. h goes to answer when a voice is heard from the fourth floor.

"the idiot took some convincing, y/n!" suguru shouts, waving his hand, "glad to know he's got some sense in him!"

"shut up, suguru!" satoru calls back, showing his fist.

"first period is about to start, you two!" the principle says through a window on the third floor, "this is all heart-warming, but you've failed two of ms kinoshita's classes, gojo!"

"r—right!" he retorts, pacing to the school entrance as people begin to 'ooh' at him. he looks back at you, smiling the brightest. "let's go out after school today, yeah? i'll buy you as many sweets as you want."

you chuckle, kissing his cheek, "my hero."

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #satoru #satoru x reader

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maiiiwrites · 9 months

Text

★ | ATTENTION STUDENTS . JPEG

PAIRING ! theodore nott x f!reader

IN WHICH your arrival at hogwarts is stirring up trouble

you roamed the halls of hogwarts. feeling overwhelmed in a good way. no words are enough to explain how happy you are to finally be here. the transfer process took so long and stressed everyone who handled it. thankfully your parents assigned someone to do the papers for you.

your arrival at hogwarts mid term grabbed everyone's attention. everyone had questions and wasn't exactly quiet about their theories. they wanted to know who, what, where, why you we're here.

"a new student? in the middle of the term?"

"how odd is that?"

"look there she is, the new student"

you continued walking, not bothering to acknowledge the students trying to get your attention. you were only looking forward to one person. in that exact moment, your eyes finally met for the first time in months. you couldn't mask your excitement from that interaction alone.

theodore didn't expect a new student, much less his lovely girlfriend. his gaze softened and a small smile managed to slip through.

two souls finally feeling each others presence after being apart for too long

that's how it went for the next few days. just simple little glances and the occasional exchange of letters. much to theodore's dismay, his subtle actions of affection did not go unnoticed by the group.

blaise was particularly nosey about his relationship with you. he was always the one who caught onto the small smiles across the hall, playing on the thread bracelet on his wrist, and the hidden love letters in his desk drawer.

"sooo.. theodore what's up with you and the new gal," blaise not so subtly asked during breakfast.

theodore perked at the mention of you, "nothing."

"oh come on there's obviously something! at least give me a hint," blaise continued.

"sure. here's a hint, im not telling you."

theodore knew there was no escaping this. they're bound to find out sooner or later. for now, the plan was to stay silent and leave loose ends. leave them curious for a while, but his fool proof plan came crashing down the moment you walked in the great hall.

you smiled at your friends seated at the table. looking forward to having your stomach filled. however, boys surrounded you with gifts and letters before you could even settle down.

you attempted to slip away but they were simply too much. feeling more crowded by the passing second. theodore didn't like how crowded you seemed. the obvious panic on your features was his last straw.

he abruptly stood up from his seat and walked towards you. leaving his friends intrigued by the sudden outburst.

theodore easily made his way to you and wrapped his arms around your middle. the action catching you by surprise until realizing its just theo. your theo.

"everyone back off! you're making my girl feel uncomfortable,"

the whole hall went silent at the confession. the crowd of boys slowly disappeared heartbroken and taken aback from theodore's claim. leaving his act of affection on display for everyone to see.

you turn around facing theodore. finally seeing him up close since your arrival.

"is it just me or you got prettier since the last time i saw you?" you teased.

theodore rolled his eyes and kissed the corner of your lips. "you've been causing a lot of trouble lately," theodore hummed.

you gasp, faking offense by his words. "are you accusing your sweet girlfriend?"

he laughed at your silly antics and hugged you tighter. "never, trouble."

you smiled hearing your special nickname.

"i love you and all but your friends are burning holes through my head," you point, particularly at blaise. theodore finally realized you're both (still) in the middle of the great hall wrapped in each others arms.

he chuckled finding the entire situation funny. theodore finally let you go and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "i better go back, trouble."

"does this mean we can visit each other now.." you beamed.

who has he to deny your love and attention. "always."

#www.iloveharrypotter.com #. * ᕀ my blurbs ° .#harry potter #harry potter x reader #hogwarts #hogwarts imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fluff

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fadedncity · 7 months

Text

safety net

wc: 4.6k

pairing: jeno x fem!reader

cw: smut, bsf!jeno, friends to lovers, non idol au, haunted attractions, reader has coulrophobia (a fear of clowns), use of fake blood, (soft)dom!jeno, teasing, pet names, multiple orgasms, choking, manhandling, spanking, fingering, praise kink, oral sex (receiving/giving), protected sex, aftercare…pretty sure that’s it

You could hear the screams coming from inside as you and your friends moved up in the line. You nervously bounced on the balls of your feet, glancing at every person passing, keeping an eye out for the horror actors who were going around jump-scaring patrons.

Jeno noticed you become more anxious, unable to stop fidgeting.

"You're not too thrilled about this, are you?" he asks.

"What would make you say that?" you furrow your brows, clearly unaware of it written all over you.

"You seem a little on edge."

"What? No, I'm fine-" You turn to find the presence you felt creeping up behind you. You're face to face with a clown mask and almost jump out of your skin, letting out a small shriek.

But hearing Haechan's laugh, your fear quickly turns into anger as the boy pulls the mask away.

"Donghyeok, I swear I'm gonna fucking-" You lunged at him, only to be stopped by two strong arms.

"We don't need you laying him out here in the park before we even get to the door," Jeno says.

You grumbled, "Fine, but if he's missing from the headcount after this you know what happened," you glared at the Gemini, flipping him off as he stuck his tongue out at you.

"You know we don't have to do this you know, you and I can get off the line now." Jeno offers you one last out as the line continues to grow behind you.

"I know. I'll be fine. I just hate clowns," you peer over Jeno's shoulder at the actor in the clown costume standing across the lot, scaring other passersby in the park.

"I won't let anything happen to you, alright? I promise." Jeno says reassuringly.

"Thank you, Jen," you smile at him.

Your friends were the next group in line to enter the attraction. The big glaring neon letters in bright red, reading Hollow's Horror above the entrance, followed by a disclaimer of what could happen once you're inside.

"So you gonna make a move tonight?" Minjeong whispers.

"What?" you ask.

"You and Jeno," she nods to the boy ahead of you, talking to Jaemin.

"Me and Jeno are just friends."

"Yeah, okay," Minjeong sarcastically nodded, "'I won't let anything happen to you. I promise.'" She mimicked Jeno's voice, and you elbow her.

"Hey, Johnny, you sure no one's ever died inside this thing?" Renjun asks the seasonal employee.

"Few people have passed out or accidentally injured themselves running and tripping over something, so the EMTs are on standby," Johnny answers. "All I'll say is the more scared you are, the more they're likely to go after you," he says, looking your way like he's talking to you directly. "But no, no one has died. Yet," Johnny says with a wicked grin as the doors open and your group is ushered inside.

"Yet?? Did he just say yet?" Ningning questions as Jimin drags her along inside.

You all stood in the dimly lit room, listening to Ten as he went over the rules and guidelines of the attraction. Minjeong unsubtly nudged you in Jeno's direction, causing you to stumble into him, and you shoot her a death glare over your shoulder.

"You ready?" Jeno asks you.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you sigh, following everyone else into the haunted house.

. . .

"How'd I even get talked into this? Everyone else could be dead for all we know."

"You know damn well everyone's fine. We just got separated." Jeno says, continuing to lead the way, "Look, Chenle's still on live with Jisung and Ningning," he shows his phone, and you see Chenle hysterically laughing as the three of them are chased through a corn maze by an actor with a chainsaw.

"Of course he is, he loves this shit," you shake your head, peering around the corner on the lookout for another scarer.

"Come on, we're almost out," Jeno nodded in the direction of another doorway.

"How are you sure?"

"Yangyang's been raving about this thing since Hendery went last year. He's watched all the vlogs and read all the reviews. He practically has his own blueprint of this place, and I'm pretty sure the funhouse is one of the last."

The first three letters were scratched out and replaced with others to spell out Bloodhouse instead, and you glare at Jeno.

"Oh come on, you gotta be shitting me," you protest, hearing the circus-themed music grow louder.

"You can do this, I have faith in you," Jeno holds out his hand, "And I'll be with you the entire time."

You let out a displeased sigh as you take Jeno's hand and follow him into the hall of mirrors.

"Just try to relax and stay calm. If they smell your fear they'll come for you," Jeno whispers dramatically.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Maybe. But if it didn't, you know I still got you," Jeno reassuringly squeezed your hand.

You let Jeno take the lead, holding his hand firmly as he guided you through the maze of electronic attractions, jumping out at the both of you as you passed them by.

Jeno was seemingly moving fast through the poorly lit room, wanting to get you out as soon as possible. But the next corner you turn, you find two actors dressed as killer clowns shuffling around, awaiting their next victims.

Jeno feels your body tense up as you lock eyes with one of them.

"Stay calm," he says as both clowns stalk toward you.

"I can't," you say, your breathing becoming heavy.

"Okay, so we run," he says.

Still holding hands, the maniacal laughter follows you both down a narrow hallway, where you feel hands grab at you both through the railings. But just as you both escape the hands grabbing at you, the sprinklers above your heads go off, spraying you and Jeno in fake blood.

Still processing all the red you're seeing, neither of you has the chance to react as another clown jumps out at you, yelling, "Give Lucky a big smile!"

You instantly grab Jeno, screaming bloody murder as a bright flash goes off. The actor shoved the Polaroid into Jeno's hands as the evil laughter grew louder and louder, more actors swarming you both. With his arms around you, Jeno takes you the rest of the way out of the haunted walk-through.

Complimentary towels were offered to you and Jeno as you exited the attraction with I Survived the Night at Hollow's Horror embroidered into the fabric.

Still, in a bit of shock, it takes a second for you to register that it's over, and you're now back in the crowd of the theme park.

"Oh thank god, we're done," you practically collapse into Jeno's arms, "I couldn't take anymore of that."

"You okay?"

"Might have nightmares for a few days, but I'll live," you wipe your face clean of the fake blood.

"Well guess what, you did it. I'm proud of you," Jeno says, causing warmth to bloom in your chest.

"Holy shit, what the hell happened to you guys?" a familiar voice grabs both of your attention.

You and Jeno find most of your friends crowded outside, waiting for you and the few others still inside.

"They definitely got the bloodhouse," Jaemin said.

Haechan erupted into laughter, "Of course you did out of all people."

"You know Haechan just cause you made it through the haunted house doesn't guarantee you'll make it through the rest of the night." you started, but Jeno immediately put himself between you both.

"We survived!" Chenle yells triumphantly.

He runs toward your group with Jisung and Ningning not too far behind, all three of them wrapped up in their own complementary towels.

"Why are you guys wet?" Jimin asks.

"We ended up in the shark tank," Jisung says, chittering his teeth.

"Shark tank!? And this thing is legal??" Aeri asks.

"They definitely weren't real sharks," Yangyang says.

"You sure about that? Cause the teeth on that thing looked pretty real," Ningning said, hugging the towel tighter around herself.

"Who cares? We're definitely coming back next year." Chenle declares.

"Yeah, we'll see about that."

. . .

"You didn't have to drive me home. I could've gone with Jimin," you say once on the front steps of your house.

"I know I didn't have to," Jeno shrugs, "But I wanted to."

"Well, thank you. Not just the ride but everything tonight. I don't know if I would've survived without you," you say lightheartedly.

"I promised you I wouldn't let anything happen to you, didn't I?"

You laugh, "Goodnight, Jeno."

"Goodnight," he says.

But neither of you move, your hand resting on the doorknob, wordlessly staring at Jeno.

"Everything okay?" Jeno asks.

"Yeah," you nod.

"Cause this is the part where you take out your keys and unlock the door so I know you've made it inside safely before I leave," he says, "Unless you don't want me to leave-" you cut him off with your lips on his.

Jeno's hands reach for your waist and pull you closer. You curl your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Your hands find his hair, raking your fingers through the stiff strands dried with food dye and corn syrup.

"Do you wanna come in?" you ask.

"Do you want me to come in?" he retorts.

"You could at least come inside to wash up. It's the least I can offer."

. . .

The steam left from your shower poured out of the bathroom the second you opened the door and stepped into your bedroom, now wearing clean clothes.

"Whatcha looking at?" you ask, rubbing the last of your moisturizer into your hands.

You find Jeno on your bed, redressed in new clothes; a shirt, and some sweatpants he left at your place a while ago. You climb onto your bed, sit beside him, and see the Polaroid picture Jeno's looking at in his hands.

"Oh my god, I can't believe this," you take the picture as Jeno hands it to you.

"This is officially my favorite picture."

"Why? I look crazy!" you point to the terrified expression the photographer caught while you were mid-scream.

"I kinda think it's cute, I mean look at us. You're clinging onto me for dear life. I thought I was gonna lose my arm," Jeno jokes.

"Alright, you know what, I've had enough of you," you playfully roll your eyes, ready to stand and walk away. But Jeno doesn't give you the chance to get too far, grabbing your waist and pulling you back down into his lap.

"Well, that's too bad, because I definitely haven't gotten enough of you," he rubs his hands over your thighs as you lean closer.

You smile against Jeno's lips, cupping his face as you kiss him. Jeno rests his hand on your lower back, pressing firmly against your spine. You comb your fingers through his damp hair and swipe your tongue along the seam of his lips. As your tongues clash, Jeno's hands cup your ass, subtly directing you to roll your hips into his allowing you to feel the bulge in his pants.

"Wait-" Jeno stops kissing you.

"Oh my god, did I completely miss read this?" you drop your hands from his face.

"No, no," Jeno quickly clarifies, taking your hands in his, "It's just I don't want you to think I just wanna sleep with you."

"Oh."

"I mean, no, trust me I do—god knows how bad I want to. But I wanna be clear that I like you, y/n. Like really like you. And I need you to know that I'm not just using you—"

"Hey," you cut off his rambling, "I know you're not like that," you stroke his cheek, and Jeno sheepishly smiles, "So you like me, huh? Like really like me?" you teasingly smirk, resting your arms over his shoulders.

"You really think I would've just let Haechan drag me out tonight if you weren't gonna be there. You know I don't really care for that type of stuff. But for you…" he trails off.

"It's funny you say that, because I was pretty adamant about not going until Aeri told me you were."

"Sounds like we're pretty perfect for each other," Jeno says with a laugh.

"I mean it's not like nothing good came out of this," you smile, kissing his lips.

"No, lie there."

You softly nibble down on his bottom lip, making him quietly groan. You feel his fingers dig into your hips, lightly scratching his nails down your exposed thighs, causing you to gasp against his lips. Jeno takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes the remaining fruity flavor of the gummies you were chewing on in the car on your lips.

Your hips drag against Jeno's, and you feel his cock through your shorts.

Jeno pulls you flush against his body and begins softly pressing kisses down the side of your neck, making you moan and arch into his touch.

"Jen," you call his name.

"Yeah, princess?" you almost moan as the pet name rolls off his tongue.

"I need you."

"I'm right here, baby. Can't think to be anywhere else right now. I'm all yours."

Jeno switches places with you, laying you down on the bed, your lips still attached.

"Gonna let me have a taste of you, angel?"

"Please," you nod.

Jeno admired you as you lay beneath him. "Just tell me if it's too much, you wanna stop, or even if you just need a break, okay?"

You nod, just hoping he'd touch you already.

"I'm gonna need words, pretty."

"Okay," you reassuringly nod again.

Jeno softly kisses your lips, and you feel his hand roam your body, kneading every place he can reach except where you want him most.

"You're so beautiful, princess," Jeno smirks, slipping his hands under your shirt and palming your breasts. You mewl into his touch as he started lifting your shirt. "So, so pretty," he hums, eyeing your perky nipples before he lowers himself and takes one into his mouth.

With his tongue swirling around your areola, Jeno had his hand occupied with your other nipple, rolling and tweaking it between his fingers.

Curling your fingers into the short hairs at the nape of his neck, you moan and arch your back into his mouth. You squirm beneath his body, the ache between your legs growing even stronger.

"Patience, baby," Jeno pulls away from you, "I like taking my time," he runs his hands up your thighs, softly squeezing your flesh.

"You know I'm not known for my patience," you say.

"Guess you better learn quickly then."

One of his fingers lightly trailed up your inner thigh. He took his finger and traced your clothed slit with a feather-light touch. You tried to raise your hips against his hand. But he pins your hips to the bed.

Jeno tsks, shaking his head. "You want something, angel, you gotta ask for it."

"Touch me," you breathe out.

"I am, aren't I?"

"You know what I mean," you say, irritation evident in your tone.

"No, I'm not sure. You want me to touch you here?" Jeno asks, rubbing your clit through your shorts.

"Yes," you buck your hips into his hand.

"Yes, what?"

"Please, Jeno," you frustratedly fist the sheets.

"Come on, sweetheart. I wanna hear you say it," his tone is soft as he applies more pressure to your clit.

"Fuck. Just fucking touch my pussy, Jen, please," you beg.

"Atta girl," he praised. "Wasn't so hard just using your words, now was it." he smiled as he removed your shorts along with your underwear.

"Fuck off-" your words are choked up by a moan as Jeno's fingers sink inside you.

"What was that?" Jeno asks, but you can't respond other than with another moan, "That's what I thought."

Jeno scissors his two fingers against your soft walls. The muscles in his arms flex every time he pumps his digits in and out of you.

"Feels good, huh, baby?" he watches your face twist up in pleasure as he curls his fingers.

"Yes."

He plants a few kisses on your face, "You want more?"

"Please, Jen, I need more. It feels so good,"

"That's it, princess. Taking my fingers like such a good girl."

"Don't stop. Please-" The stretch of Jeno's three fingers made it harder to think. Jeno watched his fingers disappear inside you, reappearing with a layer of slick coating them.

"Shh, it's okay, sweetheart. I've got you," Jeno talks you through it.

You weren't watching him, but you felt the bed shift.

"Oh my god!" you cry.

The most beautiful sound Jeno's ever heard came from your lips as he took your clit into his mouth. He directed one of your legs over his shoulder as he buried his face deeper between your legs.

"Come on, sweetness, say my name. Tell me who's making you feel so good."

"Jeno~"

He purred before dropping his head back down. Jeno wrapped his arms under your thighs, spreading your legs further apart. You writhed and thrashed in his hold, attempting to grind your hips against his mouth, but his strength never let up. Jeno's strong arms held you right where he wanted you. He lapped at your folds, using his fingers to part your lips, revealing your leaking hole, clenching around nothing.

Jeno hummed before delving back in. His eyes fluttered shut as he wiggled his tongue inside of you.

"Jen—fuck. I'm gonna-"

"Cum? You wanna cum for me?" he slipped his fingers back into your pussy.

"Yes, please, Jeno! I wanna cum for you," you whine.

You grab Jeno's wrist, rolling your hips against his hand as he curls his fingers just right, hitting that spongy spot inside you.

"Please-" you gasp.

Jeno kissed your thigh. "Cum," he practically growled.

Jeno sucked on your clit as your noises got louder. His fingers curled against your soft, gummy walls, and the obscene squelching of your juices mixing with his saliva filled your ears.

Your back arched off the bed, your fingers pulling at the roots of Jeno's hair. Your legs fought against his strength, threatening to close around his head.

"Jeno—ah!"

You quietly whimper when his fingers easily slip out of you. Your eyes blinked in and out of focus as Jeno licked his fingers clean with a delighted hum. He checks on you, softly cradling your face.

"Look at me," Jeno says, "Are you alright?"

"Mhm," you nod, "You know it's been a minute since someone else has made me cum. That hard, especially."

"Which is why I was more than happy to do for you, baby," He kisses your lips, "I don't know if I would've been able to handle hearing about another one of your pathetic hookups," he mumbled.

You raise your brows and kiss your teeth, "You're one to talk. I'd rather have brunch with Pennywise than hear one more story about someone else's mind blowing orgasm from your supposed magic tongue."

"Are you saying my magic tongue didn't just give you a mind blowing orgasm?" Jeno raises an eyebrow.

"Shut up," you cross your arms over your chest.

"Aww, don't get like that, angel," Jeno uncrosses your arms. "Would it make you feel better to know I've never been that close to cumming untouched. Just from eating you out," he says, motioning toward the prominent outline in his shorts, and you notice the darkened spot of precum staining the material.

"How close?" you ask, sitting up with a smile threatening to spread on your face.

"Very close."

"Yeah?" you place your hand in his lap and start palming him over his clothes. "At least let me return the favor, you've been so good to me, Jen, let me make you feel good too," you gently trace the outline of his cock, and the corner of his mouth twitches.

He gave you a nod, and you pulled his cock out of his pants, grasping his length in his hand. Jeno hisses as you slowly jerk your wrist, teasing his tip with your thumb. Wasting no more time, you took his cock into your mouth, welcoming the weight of him on your tongue. You hummed around him, letting the salty precum coat your tastebuds.

You look up at him through your lashes, seeing him intently watching your ministrations. You lick a long stripe along the underside of his cock, his eyes refusing to leave your face, and they threaten to shut.

Spit dribbled out of your mouth onto his cock, assisting your hand in pumping the base. You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, softly sucking the angry red tip.

"Holy shit," Jeno groaned. The hand resting on your head gently grasped your hair, lightly tugging your head back. "I'm gonna fucking spoil you," he said, pulling you in for a kiss.

You collapse back onto your bed to watch as Jeno grabs the back of his shirt, tearing it over his head, and you can't stop the moan coming out of your mouth seeing his adonis-like figure above you.

Jeno smiles, his ego definitively inflated a bit as he kicks off his sweats along with his boxers. Hooking his arms under your thighs, Jeno pulls you away from the head of the bed and back toward him.

As Jeno looked at you, the most unholy thoughts ran rampant through his mind.

"God, I love seeing you like this," he kissed your chest, "All I wanna do is ruin you," he darkly smiled.

"Please do," you grin before he sinks two fingers into your pussy.

Your eyes roll back, feeling his fingers wiggle against your soft walls.

"Such a needy little thing you are," Jeno said as he added another finger.

"Just for you," you moan.

You let out a small whine in protest when Jeno removes his fingers, using your juices on his hand to pump his cock.

"Get on your hands and knees for me?" Jeno's question comes out more like a gentle order, and you roll over onto your stomach, raising your hips into the air.

While you reposition yourself, having familiarized himself with your room, Jeno reaches into your nightstand, retrieving a condom for himself.

"This is definitely a view I can get used to," Jeno runs his hand down your spine before harshly bringing his hand down on your right asscheek, making you moan.

"Come on, Jen," you mewl, pushing your hips back into his as he rolls the condom onto his length.

"So impatient," he tsked, "Can't even properly admire you, baby," he smacked the other side of your ass.

"Jeno!"

His laugh melted into a deep groan as he slid his cock into you.

"Oh my god," your eyes roll back, and your jaw clenches.

"Yeah?"

"You feel so fucking deep. Feels so good,"

"Pussy feels so goddamn good around me. It's like you're perfectly meant to take my cock, princess."

Jeno pulled both of your arms behind your back, holding your wrists with only one of his hands, using them to pull you back onto his cock repeatedly. You whined shamelessly into the sheets as Jeno continued to fuck you into the mattress.

You know right here and now isn't the ideal time for this thought to occur to you, but knowing Jeno's heard about every aspect of your sex life, and has remembered things you've mindlessly mentioned being into in passing, only causes you to lose any sort of composure you had left. You hold onto his wrist, moaning carelessly, your pussy choking Jeno's cock as it moves rhythmically in and out of your soaking cunt.

Jeno's movements started to pick up, and the harsh sound of his hips slamming into yours filled your ears beyond your own cries and whimpers.

"Jen, please I'm-"

"Yeah, come on, baby, give it to me," he rasped in your ear, "Cum for me."

You could feel Jeno's cock twitching inside your pulsating pussy. Jeno quickly pulled out of you before he also came, flaring his nostrils and clenching his jaw when he denied himself from cumming just yet.

Pressing kisses up your spine, Jeno asks, "Think you got one more for me?" slipping his middle finger into your overstimulated cunt.

A moan squeals out of your lips, and you nod. With ease, Jeno rolls you back over, pulling your legs apart to settle between them.

"Such a needy little cock slut. You already love the way I fill you up, don't you?" he asks, running the tip of his cock up your slit.

"Love it so much." you nod eagerly.

Your eyes roll back as Jeno bottoms out once more.

"If only you could see yourself, princess," Jeno softly wraps his hand around your throat, "All fucked out and taking all of me like a good girl." Between Jeno's fingers lightly squeezing the sides of your neck and his words, your head was spinning.

The intense pleasure came over you, you couldn't piece together words anymore. Jeno smiled, hearing your incoherent babbling.

"J-Jeno..oh my god, ple-ease!" you cried.

You blinked your glossy eyes up at Jeno as he slowed down but deepened his strokes. You smiled, feeling how deep he was inside you, and you could feel your body teetering the edges of your third orgasm of the night.

"Dumb little princess," he crooned, "Have I already fucked you stupid, baby?"

Flustered by his words, you laugh, "Yes, yes, yes, Jen! please don't stop," you arch your back.

"That's my pretty girl," Jeno deeply rolled his hips into yours. "Let me know how good I'm making you feel."

"It's so good, it's so go-ood, Jeno, m'gonna cum," you whine.

"Go ahead and soak my cock, angel," he grunted.

Red streaks decorate Jeno's arm as your nails dig into his skin, another earth-shattering orgasm slamming into you.

"Th-thank you—fuck—thank you," you cried, tears of pleasure pricking at your eyes. You could hear how heavy Jeno's breathing has become and know he's not too far behind you.

"Mhm, such a good girl," Jeno's voice drops a few octaves as his hips stutter, filling the latex with his cum.

Your legs were trembling as they fell against Jeno's. He gently caressed your face, waiting for you to come back down to him.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Much more than," you smile.

"Happy to hear. Just give me a minute." Jeno says, softly kissing your lips before slipping out of your pussy, disposing of the condom, and pulling his sweatpants back on as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Jeno quickly returned with a wet cloth to wipe away the stickiness clinging to your skin.

Once he was done, you sat up and let Jeno pull you into his arms. The usual annoyance of your clammy skin sticking to his hadn't bothered you much as you just wanted to be in his arms.

"What're you thinking about?" Jeno's voice breaks the silence.

"Hm?" you snap out of your thoughts.

"You're quiet. I can tell there's a lot going through your mind right now."

"A lot of things pertaining you, yes."

"I meant what I said earlier. I really do like you."

"I know…I kinda really like you too."

You swear his eyes sparkled as a smile broke out on his face, "You have no idea how much it means to hear that. I was too afraid I would've messed something up between us."

"And I thought I was the only one here who faces their fears tonight," you say before planting a kiss on his lips.

"Are you sure there isn't anything you need I can get for you?" he asks.

"I'm all good right here." You wrap your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his, "This is all I need."

a/n: this was especially for the five of you that had already seen this last week when I accidentally posted 😭😭 thank you for reading!! feedback is appreciated <33

edit: i can’t believe i let all of y’all read this with this many typos and shit 😭 i swear i wasn’t done editing but this was the second time it accidentally posted from my drafts and i just said fuck it 🚶🏽‍♀️

1K notes · View notes

writingoddess1125 · 7 months

Text

How Strong the old men Genes are!

Funny little Headcanon for the Old Men!

Enjoy!

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Buggy

• Buggy has a curse of twins. No matter what if he gets a women pregnant It will result in him having twins.

• Due to the fact his first few sexual acquaintances were 'Paying Lovers' he does collect his kids and either has them apart of the crew or finds them a very nice homes if they aren't interested in being a Pirate.

• His kids do look like him but it's a healthy mix- His eyes and Hair Color seemingly to be his strongest genes since each of his kids has at least one of those unique characteristics.

• When he gets with his S/O who he also has twins with he is open about it.

• Has only gotten a few people pregnant but due to the twins curse- it's a lot of kids.

• Buggy much to everyone surprise is very good with kids. Especially babies.

• Maybe it plays on his power trip but having a little being that loves you unconditionally and needs you 24/7 plays well for him.

• Will buy nice clothes, dress them, feed them, play with them and even teach them everything he knows.

• His S/O is proud to see how good he is with kids. Proud of such a development. Will press him to collect/find the rest of his crotch goblins

• Gets a message from a old flame saying they no longer want their kids due to their line of work. How they are 4 and he needs to get them before they are in a orphanage.

• Hauls ass to go to Chi Chi Town to get his last batch of Twins before he got with his S/O

• "Let me guess- Twins right?" He said blandly to the madame of the brothel house, who nods in surprise. "Why yes- How did you know?-"

• "Lucky Guess. Now go get them" He says blandly as the Madame goes to the nursery area and retrieves the two twin toddlers, He doesn't even need to confirm as he sees the headful of blue hair.

• Takes them without a fuss and walks off to add to his growing collection of kids.

• Has a total of 12 Kids, all twins and he's done. No more for him-

Shanks

• Ah Poor Shanks- The Players Curse! Only Girls, He has just an ungodly amount of daughters.

• He doesn't even know we're they are till he walks through a village and sees a girl that looks a lot like him.

• All of them have red hair- No matter what. Curly, straight, Wavy but their hair is always red.

• "I'm your father! Goodness you look so lovely!" He gushes about each daughter and treats them individually. Spending as much time as he can with them and will buy them things they are interested in.

• Still prefers his single players life so doesn't settle with anyone. However running into old flames often means meeting new kids.

• Surprisingly remembers all his kids names, will write them letters constantly.

• Will he thrilled if any of them ate interested in pirating- his oldest of kids may already be working on another Pirates ship.

• Surprisingly large amount are actually Marines! So he gets special privileges of his daughters using their political power to not get him arrested-

• Introduces every daughter he has to the crew.

• The crew Secretly has a tally-board of how many kids Shanks has in the crews quarters

• "Hey Ben! How many does this new girl make?" Lucky Roux called out as he tossed the chalk to Yasopp

• "28nd girl-" Ben says calmly and smirks as Yasopp adds another Tally to the board.

• "28 Girls and 1 Boy. Good on you Luffy" The crew laughs at the stupidity of it all.

Mihawk

• Mihawk will never say it out loud but- He was a man-whore in his youth. A Massive Man-Whore.

• Knows he has a lot of bastard kids. But will at the moment only focus on the one he has with his S/O.

• When his permanent S/O finds out that Mihawk has a lot of illegitimate children they urge him to meet and even help his kids.

• At first he begrudgingly agreed- Only because his S/O asked him. Assuming he only had a good handful-

• He was wrong- So very very Wrong.

• It wasn't until he went out to collect them did he realize it was a good Idea what his S/O had suggested-

• Many of his children were in less then savorable situations. Some in orphanages, the streets picking through trash, even others working as servants or worse.

• What started as a scoffing agreement turned into the biggest rescue mission of his life.

• Once done he had the grand total of 87 Kids.

• His genes being incredibly strong since his kids all looked like him- to at least some degree.

• The main indicator was the yellow eyes- Damn near every child had his eyes. Some had his dark hair or his stoic features. But it was mainly his eyes-

• Is quiet around kids and even a bit awkward. Especially when they are in the adolescent age and talk far too much for his taste.

• By the end the castle back on his Island was actually at full occupancy. Every room filled and some of the smaller children even sharing rooms.

• He ended up hiring a full staff as well to help care for the children, especially any younger ones.

• Cost him a fortune- His wallet screaming at him buying more food, clothes, staffing, medical care and toys.

• S/O is happy since now the castle is so alive and filled with life. Makes them happy

• Mihawk laying in bed before he gets jumped on by kids. Scrambling awake as he sees 5 of his younger children laughing at seeing his startled face and runs off like little imps-

• Younger children haven't figured out to be afraid of him yet so they will run over him. He will be sitting there trying to read while a 3 year old uses him as a jungle gym.

•Secretly loves it-

• Loves having his home so warm and oddly realizes He may have been lonely before-

• "Mihawk I'm only counting 85 in bed-" His S/O calls out. Having a tradition of telling all the kids goodnight, He raises his brow at this as he sets down his wine glass and book of the evening.

#x reader #one peice x reader #buggy the clown x reader #one peice live action #one piece #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #hawkeye mihawk #shanks x reader #one piece shanks #shanks one piece #shanks #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk

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bluewxrld07 · 13 days

Text

love ain't so pretty (Luke Hughes)

Warning(s): angst, gold-digger accusations, self-doubt, insecurity

Summary: Y/n is a hard worker. She may not come from a family of wealth, but she doesn't let that define her. Until Luke says something inn which that something is said in a way he can never take back.

She was so overstimulated. She was tired, she was sweaty, she had stains on her shirt from a spilt coffee mishap.

Yet she still had that smile on her face as she greeted and bid farewell to regulars and other newer customers. Y/n wiped the sweat dripping from her forehead away as she finished wiping down one of her last tables for the night, pocketing the leftover generous tip she was left.

As she brought the dishes to the back and hung up her apron, she saw one of her closest coworkers, Grayson, making his way towards her.

"We're going out tonight if you want to join? Just to Don's down the street." he tells her as she helps the chefs with putting dishes in the sink.

She purses her lips. "Not tonight-" her coworker groans. "I promised Luke I'd come home tonight and watch the rest of the Frozen four game. UMich plays tonight, so he invited some of the guys over and wants us all there to watch it."

Grayson puts his hands on his hips and looks her up and down. "Girl, you are absolutely smitten by this man."

Y/n rolls her eyes, feeling her skin heat up. "He gets me what can I say. He's the first guy who likes me as a person. Not as just something with tits and ass." She jokes, earning a playful shove from him.

They laugh. "Hey those guys back then were fine as fuck and you know it." He shoots, earning a defeated sigh from her as she grabs her belongings.

"Yeah yeah, that was back then. I'm happier now," she chuckles, giving Grayson a hug. "Tell your man of the night hi for me though." she jokes, earning a snort.

"Oh you'll bet hearing about it tomorrow don't you worry." Graysons calls out to her as she walks off.

As she drove home that night, she felt more of the fatigue slipping in from her twelve hour shift, her feet beginning to slowly throb from being on them nonstop.

She knew she would regret taking another twelve hour shift for the fifth day in a row, but in all fairness she knew her paycheck was going to look super nice. Not that she minded working anyway.

Y/n has never had things come easy to her. She came from a family of the lower class, and she had done what she could to support them while also getting her education.

When it came to college, she knew that she wanted nothing more than to graduate with her Bachelor's degree in health science. That all came to an end when her mom died, and her father was struggling to pay bills. So she put her dreams and scholarship acceptance letters aside, putting her family first and working her ass off.

Now she was working as one of the partial owners of a very beautiful restaurant, making a decent amount of change and ignoring what everyone had said about her decisions of not going to college. Sure she still wishes she could have experienced the college life, but she knew that this life was better than spending the rest of her life paying off student loan debt.

She worked hard to get where she got to, and working where she does is what caused her to meet her now boyfriend of almost three years, and she would be damned if she would let Luke be the only one making the money in their relationship.

He has always made comments about how he could be their income, but it always needed with her saying she wanted to make her own money. As well as knowing she would get bored not doing something with her life, and she couldn't face the thoughts of him thinking she would become too reliant on his money.

She snapped herself out of the darker side of those thoughts, knowing she does work hard.

Y/n lets out a sigh of exhaustion as she made her way up the stairs towards her and Luke's shared apartment, the sounds of the guys voices being heard as she got closer to their place.

The girl opened the door quickly to not disturb their conversation being had in the other room, shutting it quietly as she took off her shoes.

She set her keys and purse on the rack, making her way down the hall and pulling her hair into a knot on the top of her head.

The guys chuckles and conversations dying down a bit as she cam into view, everyone giving her warm welcomes and 'hello's. She exchanged a few hugs and greetings to the Devils players in her household, soon making her way behind the couch to hug her boy from behind.

Luke lets out a chuckle as he felt Y/n bury her face in his neck and place a kiss there, his fingers caressing her wrists that were around his neck.

"How was work, baby?" he asks softly, she hums.

"Busy. Long. Grayson asked if I wanted to come out with him and the rest of the crew, but I just could not. I'm so tired."

"How many hours did you work today?"

"Close to thirteen. I covered for Miriam because her son was sick." she sighs, laying her chin on his shoulder.

Luke places a few chaste kisses on her cheek and temple. "You definitely deserve a drink or two though."

"Yeah, but I wanted to come watch the game with you and the boys. I also don't get paid till tomorrow, so I'd rather just keep the money spending to a tighter budget." she explains, earning a grin from Luke.

"I could've sent you money, love. You never go out really," he assures her, but she shakes her head and stands straight. She squeezes his shoulders.

"Not the point, baby. I don't need you spending your money on me. I make my own money, I don't want to rely on you, you know how I get with you spending money on me." she says, placing a kiss on his head.

Luke just sighs, and looks up at her. "Why don't you go shower, and I will grab you a drink and something to eat for when you get back out here?" he suggests, she grins down at him and nods.

Y/n walks off to their shared bedroom and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her to strip down.

The warm water instantly helps sooth her muscles and pains, earning some decompressing sighs of relief from her as she washes herself clean.

Once she is done, she steps out and heads towards the mirror to do her nightly routine. She shrugs on some cropped sweats and Luke's sweatshirt that was hanging up, brushing her hair after.

As she opens the door that goes back to their shared room, she sets her towel on her desk chair and goes to place her phone on the charger.

She pauses when she hears something from one of the guys, in which it makes her frown.

"Why didn't she go out tonight?"

She hears Luke sigh. "I don't know. She said something about not getting paid till tomorrow and being tight on her budget."

One of the guys snort. "What does she do?"

"She's a partial owner and full-time manager for that nice restaurant down the street overlooking the bridge."

It's quiet for a few seconds. "That's it? Nothing special?"

"Really? I thought she did something else," one guy chuckles.

"Nope, she's just over there." Luke answers quietly.

"No wonder she is tight on money. I thought she went to college and got a real job or something."

"I didn't know you'd stoop down to lower-class type girls Lukey," a guy jokes, making Y/n's insides churn.

"I don't that's the thing," Luke laughs, Y/n instantly getting closer to the doorway to hear what else he has to say. "She could definitely use the money I make here and there. She doesn't make shit compared to what I get."

Y/n's blood runs cold.

She knows she is not professional sports player, but she does make a decent amount, so hearing Luke say that makes her heart ache. The man that was supposed to stick up for her and love her regardless was saying things like this when she wasn't in the room. Who knew what else he was saying when he wasn't around her.

"Wouldn't you be worried about her becoming a gold digger though, man?"

Luke scoffs. "I mean yeah of course, but she's got this thing where she needs to prove to whoever that she can make money. So she will never accept a dime from me. She barely pays for our rent here, she pays a good forty percent. But without me around who knows if she'd have a roof over her head."

Y/n didn't even realize she was crying until she felt the drops hitting her toes, the girl instantly wiping at her eyes.

She couldn't listen to any more of their conversation, instantly heading towards their closet and grabbing whatever she could fit into the duffel.

If he was going to say this about her, making her sound like she could be so broke and so homeless if he wasn't around. She didn't want a man like that in her life.

Y/n grabbed her phone and charger, slipping on a pair of socks and her jacket before walking out of their bedroom.

She stormed down out past the group sitting in the living room, noticing Luke in the kitchen in her side view. She beelined towards the hallway that led to their front door, putting on her shoes as she heard Luke say her name.

"Where you going? I just finished making you your favorite!" he says in an excited tone. Luke's smile falters as he sees her puffy and red splotched face.

"Baby? What's going on?" he asked, as he began to walk towards her.

She just shook her head, grabbing her purse and keys. "I can't do this." she scoffs with a sniffle.

"Do what? Hey, hey, hey," he says, grabbing her waist to turn her back towards him as she begins to open the front door. His face falls completely at the sight of her broken one.

"I won't be some fucking charity case for you," she snaps. Luke's face frowning. "What?" he asks.

"I make more than enough money to be financially stable on my own fucking feet. I don't need you feeding some fucking lies to your so called friends that I can't pay shit. You chose the rent split percentage. You chose how much you wanted me to pay because you wanted to spend more on me."

Luke's face was white. "Y/n I-"

"No. I'm done Luke. Go fuck some high-class bitch that can afford everything you can and more. We're over."

Before Luke could get another word out, the door slammed in his face.

Luke backed away from the door silently, his figure coming into view to the boys who heard the door slam.

"Luke you good?"

He ran his hands through his hair, his eyes still locked on the door in hopes she would come back. Tears threatening to spill in his eyes.

"Luke?"

He turned away and towards the kitchen, swiping the glass on the counter away and letting it shatter on the fridge.

"I fucked up. Big time."

#hockey boys #angst #luke hughes #y/n #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine

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jo-harrington · 3 months

Text

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Prologue: Crossover

Summary: Everyone wishes that they could have an Eddie Munson in their lives. In a strange turn of events, Eddie wishes that he could meet you, his favorite character from a cult classic 80's TV series. And he's about to get his wish.

Word Count: 3.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Minor Angst, Fluff, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events

Note: Hello and welcome. I'm very excited about getting to expand on this idea; it's going to be a wild ride. Please note as you head in, and as we get into further chapters...this fic is going to be a little mind-fucky and a little bit self aware. This is my love letter to and my criticism of fanfiction, but at the end of the day, we're still gonna get to fall in love with Eddie and get some kind of Happily Ever After. This is my guarantee.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

May 2022. Such a weird time.

A time of uncertainty, a time of change. A time where the world seemed like it had been torn apart and was slowly being knit back together again.

But then a switch was flipped. Something happened. An old season ended and a new one started and with that start came something new. Someone new. And suddenly, countless people began to yearn for this new person in their lives.

A new, old person. Eddie Munson.

Joy ignited. Creativity sparked. Millions of words written and read. Edits made. Art drawn. Merch bought.

So many voices crying “why isn’t he real. WHY ISN'T HE REAL.”

If there was a god, he would let them have their own Eddie Munson. And if there was a Satan, he would let them sell their souls for Eddie Munson.

That’s just not how the universe works.

At least…not this one...

October 1985. A different kind of place and time. Still weird.

But Eddie Munson was real.

Sometimes to his detriment.

And for the most part, it was alright.

He played guitar, laughed with friends, mocked bullies to protect the people like him that were considered less than. He'd overcome hardships of one sort or another for most of his life, he could keep at it for a little while longer.

It would be his day week month year sometime soon.

Wouldn't it?

But until then, he would bide his time. Hopefully, this year, he'd pass all of his classes and finally graduate. Get to flip that douchebag Higgins off and snatch up a long-awaited, and well-deserved diploma.

What made it all easier, what softened the blow...was you.

It was silly. He knew that. Ronnie used to tease him on Wednesday nights when he needed to run home because he had a "standing date with his girl."

"Your girl doesn't even know you're alive," she'd scoff as he bustled her into the van. "She isn't real."

No...no you weren't.

Why couldn't you be real.

See, for the past...however long Eddie had spent his late nights half-assing homework, planning campaigns for Hellfire, working on music, and watching a television show. His guilty pleasure, a show about the ups and downs and upside downs of living in a sleepy suburban town: Port Geneva.

A show where you were his favorite character.

And crush.

You weren't the main character--in fact, you were just the main character's quirky best friend--but you were a fan favorite, as much as he could tell. You'd only been in the background during the first season, but before long you were front and just-left-of-center. And last year, you'd even gotten a two-episode arc in the season finale as you turned the small town on its head by announcing, a month or two before graduation, that you were quitting school to follow your dream and become an artist.

And man...Eddie had been there.

He'd actually missed those episodes airing when...well, when everything happened with his father and the heist...and the house...and Paige.

He'd missed a lot of episodes that season. Missed seeing you come into your own as he tried and failed to come into his.

Thankfully Wayne--and Eddie wasn't a believer but whatever deity in charge needed to bless his Uncle Wayne--had the foresight to tape those episodes for him.

Those tapes would be cherished 'til the day he died, because they had truly gotten him through those tough days after everything.

He wished he had seen them when they aired, maybe...maybe he would have made some different decisions if he had.

Of course, Eddie had already loved you before then.

Since he had first laid eyes on you, actually.

He was sure that if you were real, you would be the one to understand him more than any of his friends. See the real him. In return, he would understand you, be there for you too.

He already had been. He'd seen you cry countless times, he'd laughed with you, celebrated your successes and mourned your failures. He'd been there for you when you crushed on that dickhead Mark, and then had your heart broken by the careless jerk.

And somewhere deep down inside of him, when he was sitting in that jail cell after he wasted his phone call on Paige and he felt the weight of the world bear down on his shoulders…he wished that you were real so he could have called you instead.

If you were real, Eddie's life would just be a little nicer.

He knew…he just knew.

Of course, in the mean time while he wished with every fiber of his being that you would walk into his life, he brought you to life in other ways. During mid-season and summer hiatuses, he would write you into his DND campaigns. His friends knew, they always called him out for it.

"Are you seriously making her an NPC man?" Dougie would scoff and throw a D20 across the table at him.

"No, what are you talking about?" he defended and threw the die right back at his friend. "This is Spiria the Bold."

"Uh huh," Jeff rolled his eyes. "Sure."

By his imagination and his pen, you became a powerful warrior, a sharp-tongued trickster, a seductive mage. You became anything he wanted you to be--most often with a companion and lover that mirrored him--and everything he knew, deep down, that you were.

And then the unthinkable happened.

September ‘84. He and Wayne were in the checkout line at K-mart. Cart stacked with new clothes and school supplies and groceries. When suddenly...there you were. Right in front of him.

Alright, not you. Per se. But your face, smiling alongside Samantha and Patrick and Scotty and Bill on the cover of the TV Guide.

On Set with the Stars of Port Geneva.

Wayne was the one to snatch the magazine from the rack and add it to their bounty, a knowing smile on his lips as he shook his head.

He knew Eddie needed a little pick-me-up.

Or a big one.

How could he have known this would be anything but one...

Eddie scoured over the pages once they got back to the trailer. He was hoping there would be a big enough picture of you that he could cut out and tape to the otherwise barren walls of his new room. And there was; you were leaning against the back of your signature pastel blue Volkswagen Beetle, arms across your chest, head tilted to the side with the signature scrunched smile you gave when you were embarrassed.

He adored you.

Before he took scissors to the page, he read the interview with your actress.

He wasn't too keen on her, even though she had your face.

The illusion that Rosemary Glass was really you had been shattered the first time he'd heard her voice on a radio interview; instead of your perfect and familiar middle-American speech...Rosemary's voice was accented.

Not to mention, she sounded pretentious.

Gross.

Still, he could look past that annoyance if he got some kind of insight to what the next season would bring for you.

Hopefully not a new love interest. His heart could only take so much.

...gives us a tour of the Patterson and Son's set, one that is forever enshrined as the setting of Patrick and Samantha's first kiss. "Oh I'm actually not fond of that scene," Rosemary confesses. "Yeah it's sweet, and the way I bring Sam in so Pat could confess his feelings but the...when I fell down? It was not scripted. And I was honestly shocked they kept that in. But fans seem to think she's clumsy now because of it. That I'm clumsy. When I just tripped over a wire. It's quite awful, really." We ask Rosemary to tell us what she'll miss most, now that the show is coming to an end...

Eddie went rigid as he read those words.

The show...coming to an end?

"What?" he exclaimed into his empty room. "No, no, no."

He carefully examined the article again, then turned back to the beginning of the feature, only to feel his heart stop in his chest.

The title of the feature was like crit hit.

The final killing blow to his already weak constitution.

One Last Summer in Port Geneva - On the Set of the Final Season

The final season was a sham.

Eddie savored every episode, though. Of course he would!

He would enjoy every last moment with you that he could get before he lost you forever. But...he hated it.

It was lazy writing--seriously what were they thinking--and a quick, cheap means to tie up all the loose ends they'd set up over the years. He could tell they tried to deliver as fulfilling a finale for the extensive cast of characters as they could. Still, he was sure he could have done better.

Samantha and Patrick got engaged after graduation. That was lame.

Bonnie finally quit the bakery to open her own cafe the next town over. Didn't anyone remember that she wanted to quit because she wanted to be a vet instead? That was the whole point of her! She didn't want to follow in her family's footsteps and she was doing just that.

And you? You took a backseat.

Instead of leaving town right after graduation--something that you had followed through reluctantly to make your parents happy even though you had just resolved to put your own happiness first for once--you stayed to help Pat plan his proposal.

Your big adventure, your big push for your dreams, were on hold again. You played second fiddle over and over until the final episode.

Eddie was grateful to have you for a little longer, but...once again annoyed that you were looked over--over and over, just like he was--when you had already proved that you were worthy of top billing.

Worthy of being the main character for once.

Still, at the beginning of the series finale, you packed your bags, cashed in your savings account, and drove out of town. The future was yours, just like it was always meant to be.

And Eddie cried.

The whole time tears streamed down his face as you said your own watery goodbyes. He might have even waved as you stuck your hand out the windshield to say goodbye to your friends as your car idled at the last stop sign. You blew a kiss to everything you knew and loved then started on your way into the unknown, car getting smaller in the distance right before the commercial break.

He held his breath for the final scene: a walk through the house where it all started and then Sam smiled her signature hopeful smile as she shut the door on the audience.

The screen faded to black for one final time and he exhaled.

"It's over," he muttered in slight disbelief, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.

Port Geneva was over, and you were gone for good.

It was a strange feeling.

Heartbreak, mourning, disappointment? He couldn't really know for sure. Empty was the best way to describe it; the lack of feeling. It was infuriating. Port Geneva was just a television show, he attempted to rationalize for the nth time since he started watching. You were just a character on a tv show; how could you mourn for someone and something that wasn't even real?

You hadn't actually died. He could still see glimpses of you if he wanted, whenever Rosemary Glass' next movie came out or something.

But that wasn't you.

You were gone, for all intents and purposes, and it was a blow that hit Eddie hard.

How could he go on without you?

Devastated, he got high that night after he stewed on his grief. He day-dreamed and monologued to an empty trailer about a universe where the two of you were together, where your travels took you to Hawkins, of all places, and you fell in love with him, just like you were supposed to.

If the walls could talk, they would have a fantastic tale to tell. One with heroes and misunderstandings and love at first sight. One with a horrible, unseen foe and many pitfalls and dangers that exceeded anyone's wildest imaginations. One with a magic door that led to the happily ever that was beyond well-deserved.

Grief did wonderful and terrible things, after all.

He woke up for school the next morning with cotton mouth and a vague outline of a story that did just that: brought you to Hawkins to fall in love with him and all of the other things that seemed like nonsense once he was in a more right-minded state.

The only problem was that it was all in his English notebook. And he didn't need anyone finding that.

"Fuck," he groaned and ripped the page out. He shoved it into his bedside drawer, where it would be doomed to a crumpled and forgotten future.

Or until he needed a condom.

Which, considering how everyone had doubled down on their disgust of him, wouldn't be any time soon.

But there you stayed.

Put away, like old obsessions and childish things, to be ignored and forgotten.

At least for a little while.

Eddie tried.

He did.

He kept you and Port Geneva out of sight and mind as much as humanly possible. It was the most effort he had really put to anything tangible in the past year.

The series ended at a weird time--during the middle of the season--and some investigative journalism show took over its time slot. Barbara Walters couldn't hold a candle to you, so it wasn't difficult for him to keep himself rooted in reality on the nights where he typically indulged in his silly fantasies.

The daydreams that he had were limited to lyrics for Corroded Coffin originals and ideas for Hellfire, and nights were spent alone in the darkness of the living room, with his reflection in the television set to keep him company as he tried his best to do homework that he'd already done before.

Before he realized, though, the school year was coming to a close and he was--big shocker--on the brink of failure. It wasn't until Higgins called him into his office, again, that you made your violent resurgence into his life.

There was a tentative truce between Higgins and Eddie for a while.

Civility was a strange thing for both of them. They actively avoided one another, save for a snide jab here and there, and Eddie tried to stay out of the Principal's Office as much as he could.

That is, until Higgins was forced to tell Eddie that he needed to repeat his repeat senior year.

"Don't act like I want this at all," he sneered at Eddie who tripped over a reaction. "I'd rather have you out of these halls for good. You drop out one year, then you re-enroll and you fail another. Try to make the most of it this time Munson; I don't want to have this talk again."

Eddie grumbled the whole drive back to the trailer, and he fell onto the sofa with his head in his hands once he got in.

"Which one of the fates wrote this stupid plot for me now, as if last year wasn't enough. You can't make this stuff up sometimes."

He laid there, wallowing in his misery for hours, days, years, until it got dark enough for headlights outside to be noticeable as they shined through the window. There was a glint of a reflection that caught his eye and had him turn his head.

"TV," he sighed and reached out as though he could touch the set and stacks of tapes neatly piled below. “The cause-of and solution-to all of life’s problems.”

He contemplated his life for a few more minutes.

He could make the most of the final few weeks of the school year. He could set himself up as a willing and reliable pupil for these last few assignments and tests, even though they wouldn't mean very much.

He could do all of these things so that when he walked into the halls of Hawkins High in the fall, on his absolute last first day of school--whatever deity or powers-that-be willing, because how "getting the hell outta dodge or he would die here" turned into "two extra years in that shit hole" he could only attribute to cosmic intervention--the faculty would already know he would try his best this time.

It would show them he was serious about graduating and that he would succeed despite all odds against him. Finally.

He could do this.

Or...

He could put in one of the tapes from the stack and scrounge for loose bills left over from his last few transactions and order a pizza. Pretend like he didn't exist for a little while.

And given the choice?

Eddie Munson chose the latter.

And he continued to choose the latter throughout the summer and even into the fall.

Nights that he didn't already have plans were spent in front of the television.

They were cherished nights with you.

Aside from his VHS recordings, he found a channel that showed reruns of Port Geneva after 10pm. Two hours of small town shenanigans that might very well be found just outside of his own door--if he only went and looked--with you just there, making your appearance every so often and catching his eye.

Homework was sometimes left halfway done on the coffee table until he needed to switch out a tape, or change the channel, and he spent more time filling his heart than enriching his mind, so to speak; he knew all of this school stuff already anyways.

Third times a charm and all right?

He talked to the screen more often than not, tried to warn you against one disappointment or another. Sometimes, if he was watching one of his tapes, he'd pause right on your face and just talk to you. Mundane things, usually, like Ronnie's last phone call home or some album that got released and a song he thought you might like.

Other nights, like tonight, he got vulnerable. Moments where life seemed a little extra trying, and he'd confess his feelings to your image.

Knelt on the floor in front of the coffee table, warm light bathed his face promising comfort as he spoke, and the din of static emitted from the television set, akin to an angel's voice...beyond understanding of humans.

He'd never been one for church, but this kind of confessional was sacred enough.

An eternal bond, just you and him.

He stopped his ramblings at that thought.

It was a strange moment of clarity.

Where had that come from?

"I..." Eddie looked down at himself, a foot away from the television set, remote clenched in his hand. Then he looked at you, soul-filled eyes just beyond the glass, not looking at him, only...through him, just past him. "What am I doing?"

What was he doing? He was...he wasn't a kid anymore who could hide in his dreams; well, honestly he was always going to do that, but this was different.

One minute he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders as he told you about his troubles, and the next it was all back, heavier than ever, as he realized how silly this all was.

And here he was, wasting his life knelt at your altar.

It wasn't holy. It was pathetic.

You'd never answer; you weren't real.

"Why?" he asked aloud, jaw clenched. He gripped the remote tightly. "What did I do to not have...someone? Huh? What have I ever done to be alone? That I have to rely on a fucking television character to feel understood. And now I'm losing my mind talking to myself, talking to you, at midnight every night. Why am I here wishing that you're real? Why couldn't you just...be...real?"

If there was a God, he would let Eddie Munson have you. If there was a Satan, he would let Eddie sell his soul for you.

And that's how he knew neither of them existed: you didn't exist either.

Eddie hit the eject button on the VCR and was about to shut everything so he could go to bed, when there was a crash outside.

Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd gotten used to since he came to live with Wayne.

This crash, however, started a ruckus.

Someone was yelling and that stupid dog across the way started barking.

Eddie was a lot of things...but a dramatic gossip was definitely high on the list.

What else was there to do in the Midwest?

He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl full of junk on the coffee table and stepped outside, fully intent on plopping down on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.

A car crashed into the telephone pole; didn't look like there was much damage but it had run through some trashcans and might have clipped the drivers side mirror off of Mrs. Mayfield's car. The same Mrs. Mayfield who was on her own porch being held back by Max as she yelled.

"Are you kidding me? It's fucking midnight!"

"Mom! Stop!"

"The car, Max!"

Maybe there'd be a fight.

He barely got his cigarette lit when he noticed--really noticed--the offending car: a powder blue Volkswagen Beetle.

He blinked several times and then rubbed his eyes, thinking it might have just been a trick of the light or something.

Or it was a coincidence.

Or a dream.

Maybe he'd had a heart attack and died in front of his television or something?

Plenty of people drove Volkswagen Beetles. He was pretty sure he'd even heard Nancy Wheeler asking her parents for one as a graduation present.

But with the same license plate number?

The same one from the show, the same one that was in the TV Guide all those months ago. The same one on the makeshift poster he had taped on the wall next to his bed, that he'd run his fingers over to "kiss" you goodbye countless times, just like he did to his guitar.

"It's just dark," he tried to convince himself, "and I'm tired, and...and..."

It was a coincidence. It was a dream.

He repeated the mantra over and over in his head like a lifeline.

It was another fan like him who just used fantasy to make their life a little better. That's all he was trying to do too, right? He could understand; hell, if this was a new neighbor, maybe he'd be able to chat with them about the show. Wouldn't that be something?

Eddie was so distracted making up endless excuses for himself that he didn't notice Mrs. Mayfield as she threw her hands up in the air with an exaggerated "I'm calling the police. He didn't hear Max holler at her mom to calm down, or see the tail lights of the Beetle turn off either.

It wasn't until the driver's side door swung open and a sneaker-covered foot crunched against the gravel that he forgot all the excuses he was conjuring.

And his heart stopped as the driver got out of the car and stood in the faint glow of the streetlight.

Because that driver was you.

Next Chapter: Alternate Universe

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trancylovecraft · 2 months

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Hello Girlie! I saw that your requests are open (even with the hiatus, take care of yourself:3) so, I wanted to know if it's okay if I make my own? From Yandere Lucifer Morningstar's general headcanons(from Hazbin Hotel), perhaps the reader could take Eve's place, being the "first sinner" or/and converted demon like Lilith.

If you're already maxed out with Requests, that's fine! I will order in another time, take all the time you need❤️You can ignore this if that's the case

(HAZBIN) YANDERE! LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR x EVE! READER: Headcannons

RECEIPT ✂- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

BARISTA'S NOTE: HEYYYY GIRLIE!!! THANKS SO MUCH!! i love that u requested him cause he's one of my favourites (i had a lot of fun with this req, LOVE THE CONCEPT) and would be if it wasn't for Carmilla :]. FANDOM: Hazbin Hotel

Thank you for ordering!

Come again soon!

Lucifer Morningstar! King of Hell, King of Pride and one goofy motherfucker!

Also a dangerous yandere to have.

I headcannon Lucifer as a Desperate, Possessive, Protective and Worshiping yandere.

Desperate in the way that Lucifer is just so lonely. Even when he did have something with Lilith in the beginning (They never got married in this scenario), It never felt connected. Even as the ugly duckling amongst the angels, He loves you because maybe.. Just maybe, You think like him, Maybe you love him. And he NEEDS you to love him too.

Possessive in the way that this ties into his Desperation, So enamoured and focused on getting you to love him that he's bitter towards anyone who you even glance at. You're his, Lucifer gets antsy if you even look another persons way (God forbid, Adams.). You should look at him, Listen to him and his ideas.

Protective in the way that he's terrified of losing you. You're still only mortal, And if you die then you'll fall into hell (If not, Heaven) and even Lucifer knows that's no place for you to be! You're too good for a place like that, He needs to make sure you'll be fine with him down there.. Especially with all the sinners running about.

And finally, Worshiping in the way that he just adores you. I mean, Come on. You're gorgeous, Intelligent, Curious, Brave and everything else he could ever want! How could he not worship you so?

So to establish you as an Eve! Reader, We're gonna go off my interpretation of Eve since we haven't seen her in the show yet.

You are you, Created from Adams left rib while the actual Eve was created from Adam's right.

God made both you and Eve to give Adam a choice of wife, Whichever one he chose would stand at his side for all of eternity. However the one that he didn't choose..

Well, You weren't quite sure what would happen to them, But you knew that you didn't want it to be you.

Eve was made beautiful, She was made pure and orderly. In other words, Eve was subserviant. Though you loved her like a sister, She was very much unlike you..

You on the other hand was made intelligent, Curious of the natural world and adventurous to the last letter. You craved knowledge, You craved to experiment.

In other words you were messy, Subserviant not to man but to your carnal desire to learn. But both you and your sister knew very well of what happened to Adam's first wife, So you knew that you had to go along with it all.

Lucifer came across you one day when he gazed upon the garden of Eden. He was startstruck when he saw you bathe within one of Eden's many springs, Washing your body on your lonesome while humming some original symphonic tune.

Lucifer was lured to you by your song, Him being an avid musician was not immune to your call. But he was even more entranced once he saw you in person, Your body only a silhouette in the fireflies that danced around you.

Of course by now he had been banished, So he watched you in the form of a snake in a tree.

Lucifer thought you were stunning at first sight, Watching as you bathed yourself in springwater and sing your siren's song. And he felt awkward, Nervous to approach you especially after his banishment.

So that's all he did, He just watched.

But that changed once you turned you caught eye of him too, Pausing your bath once you saw the pretty white snake hanging from the tree just a bit away from your spring.

Sure, Eden has a lot of animals, Snakes included but you've never seen one with such gorgeous white scales like this one. So you're curious, Beginning to churn your way through the waist-deep waters towards him.

Lucifer instantly starts panicking, You're actually approaching him?! As much as he does want to talk to you, He certainly hasn't gained the courage yet!

You make your way over and finally reach him with a small smile on your face, Reaching your arms out you bring the snake into your hands with suprising ease. You look at it closely, Smiling.

"Hello there.. How'd you get all the way out here?"

Lucifer near melts in your hands once he hears your spoken voice, Just as angelic as your singing. He can barely do anything in your hold, A warm, Passionate feeling starting to burst inside of him

"..I- Erm-"

You squeak, Dropping the snake onto the ground like you had touched hot coals. You weave back in the water, Staring dead at the coiling snake. It had spoken, Human language.

You ask who he was, Shocked once Lucifer speaks up and stammers while telling you that he was an Angel. He apologises profusely, Saying sorry for intruding on your bath.

You calm down once you find out he's an Angel, One of the good guys, Right? You hadn't met many angels, And its not like you had any experience of deception anyways.

Besides, His mannerisms were rather charming despite how awkward they sounded. You giggled as you apologised for dropping him, Reaching down to pick him up once more.

Lucifer and you talked for the entire night, Too enraptured in conversation for either of you to sleep.

He talked about the stars, The seas and the sands. How he himself had saw their creation and marveled at their beauty. You listened intently, Soaking it all in while your eyes gleamed at him like the stars under the night sky. Lucifer took pride, His stammers getting less frequent as he went on.

He also spoke of his ideas, His plans for the future and his vision for humanity. And you actually listened, You agreed, You suggested and spoke of your own ideas and he agreed in full. Wide eyed, Almost as if you read his mind.

And in that moment, You were just.. Perfect.

He had to leave once your sister came looking for you, Not wanting to be seen by her. Unfortunately he hadn't told you his name, But he supposed it was better like that so it wouldn't be known that he, Lucifer had been meddling in human affairs once more.

But he came back, He had to, You gave him such a good feeling. It was like you knew him, Like you agreed with him and accepted him as he was.

He couldn't give that up, No, He needed to come back.

And he did, For the next few weeks he returned to you at night when you were alone. In the form of a snake, One easily able to hide his presence. He spoke to you, Always excitedly hurrying once he had a new idea or invention he wanted to show you.

And you listened, You always did. He listened too, Once you told him of your situation with Adam. You lamented how much you just wanted to explore, To not be tied down by the weight of a husband.

Lucifer sympathised with you once you told him you had no choice, That Adam needed to marry you or you'd be tossed away like leftovers.

Lucifer started to bring you artefacts, Things you asked for and ones you wanted to study. Lucifer always stammered once you kissed the top of his head, If he was in his humanoid form he would be red from head to toe, Something he was glad you could not see.

He took you around the garden, Showing you the highs and the lows of this place. He showed you the rivers and the fields, The mountains and the valleys. Everywhere you could possibly go, Including the border of the gardens.

You thought he was funny, His jokes always brought a hearty laugh out of you. Lucifer always made an effort to tell more in your presence.

Lucifer wishes he was in his humanoid form so he could play his violin for you. Your voice is so beautiful and you sing to him every night, He wishes he could do the same for you.

You affectionately refer to him as simply just "My Angel" since you have a personal belief that he was sent to guide you. Lucifer doesn't correct you despite your beliefs, It gets him more praise that he desperately craves anyways.

Whenever you were away however, He still kept a close eye on you. Especially when you were around that sleaze of a man, Adam. Lucifer didn't like Adam, Especially after he had met you.

He watched as Adam was free to put an arm around your shoulders, Eve having the other. The way Adam boasted about himself, How he kept loudly asking which one of you should be his wife.

You didn't like Adam, But you needed to be wed so you weren't thrown away. So you kept tossing your hair like Eve always did, Laughed at his stupid jokes and leaned just a bit closer into him.

And it made Lucifer furious.

It boiled up in him like a stewing pot. Couldn't he see that he was making you uncomfortable? Couldn't he see that he wasn't good enough for you? Lucifer doesn't blame you, But hell, Does he wish you looked his way.

He wanted to save you from this, Get you away from Adam so that he can have you all to himself you can be happy! That glint in your eyes is gone, He needs you to get it back.

But Lucifer can't do anything. With the close eyes of the angels above watching them, There's no way he could do anything too drastic. As much as he wants to help, As much as he wants to snap Adams neck with his own bare hands. There's not much he can do..

But Lucifer is sure that once Adam chooses Eve, He'll be there to pick you up and sweep you down into hell where he can finally show his true form to you entirely.

He's sure of it.

But one day he had gotten distracted, You were with Adam so he hadn't been present at the time. But when he went to look back, Watch over you like he usually does.. He stops.

Eve is sobbing on her knees, Full on wails as Adam tenderly holds your hands. Lucifer realises what had happened by the look of uncertainty on your face, The way you looked at Eve with sympathy and fear.

Adam had chosen you.

Lucifer is shocked, He's pulling out clumps pf hair and slinging curses. Its unlike him, He sounded like a wild animal. He was so sure that Adam, As shallow as he was, Would choose the blonde beauty of Eve.

But he had chosen you, Not being as shallow as he had thought. Adam tells all the angels that he has officially chosen you, That you would be his wife. His chosen to be wed.

Lucifer can barely hold back anymore as he starts breaking down in an anguished rage. How could this happen? Aren't you gonna object to this? What about him, Did your time with him mean nothing?

But you just nodded slowly, Agreeing to be his wife.

It takes Lilith to calm him down, Rushing to his side as he starts hyperventilating, Trying not to break anything more. She speaks to him, Tells him of another way he can get you back.

And its a good idea.

You're wandering in the garden once more, Searching for your sister after she ran off sobbing. She'd be tossed out of the garden, You don't want that, You love her so you need to find her to see if there's a solution for everybody.

But you find your way to a deeper part of the garden, Where you were forbidden to go. You didn't even realise until you reached a clearing, Finally spotting the massive tree in the middle, Higher than all the rest with beautifully ripe fruit hanging from them.

You realise your mistake, You go to turn around but before you do you hear the voice of your friend, The angel.

You spot Lucifer coming down from the branches, Beckoning you over with that same excited voice, The one that you trusted with your life. And despite all of your instincts yelling no, You go towards him.

He greets you as cheery as ever, Slithering down from the branches yet he still kept a good distance. You tell him that you didn't mean to wander this far into forbidden land, Thinking that he was The Angel sent to bring you back.

Lucifer just shrugs it off though, Telling you that it's no big deal. You raise a brow before he beckons you forward, Congratulating you on your marriage to Adam that went by quicker than it should have.

You thank him nervously but tell him you have to go, But before you can leave he calls you back, Informing you that he came here to give you an engagement present. Something of his own making, Something he had worked really hard on..

You still trust him but the twisting feeling in your stomach gets worse once he presents to you a ruby red apple from behind the tree. Your eyes light up at it however, It was the most gorgeous apple you had ever seen. No blemishes or freckle out of place.

It was mesmerizing like a hypnotists watch, Your eyes kept on the carmine shine. You didn't even notice the gleeful giggling coming from Lucifer, Like a little girl on her birthday about to open her first present.

You took the apple into your hands once offered and despite all your better judgement, You placed it upon your lips before taking a bite into its skin. You chew, It's sweet, So sweet. It was the most sugary taste your tongue had held, Yet the pungency of the sour aftertaste came like a storm surge.

You snap out of it, Watching as the ruby red apple in your hand starts to rot away in record time. Mould and maggots already starting to fester, You scream and drop it to the ground, But by the time it hits it had already withered to the core.

You feel weird, You feel horrid. Suddenly you become aware of your naked form, Instantly rushing to cover your parts you start to yell at Lucifer, Begging him to tell you what you had done, What that apple really was. What spell had he put you under to take a bite of that thing? How stupid you were-!

But you snap your head up and the snake was no more, Instead a man with ivory skin and rosy cheeks. Platinum blonde hair slicked back with the most giddy grin you had ever seen on anyone before. Your eyes widen, And suddenly the knowledge of who you've been talking to hits you like a freight train.

He tries to talk to you but he can't get a word in. You scream, You cry, You wail. Accusing him with his own name, Lucifer. You start to hyperventilate, Backing away with him with a horrid stomach ache while storms brew in the sky above.

Lucifer tells you that its okay! He's found a way for you to get out of your marriage, He just tells you to listen to him and that it will be okay!

But you don't, A sudden chill runs through Eden and you know in your core that its not just you who has felt the consequences of your actions. Storms brew, Critters around you start to get violent. You yell and scream once he comes close, Trying to bring you into embrace.

Lucifer is taken aback, This isn't how he imagined it. You were suppose to listen to him, Like you always did. But instead you just kept wailing and wailing calling him a monster, The devil that he was.

You're suppose to listen to him, Him. To his ideas, To his words, To anything that he says. So why aren't you lending him an ear now?! He just doesn't get it.

Wings sprout from his back, An arm lunges around your waist and constricts around you like the snake that he was. You can't struggle in his hold, His power too strong as he raises you both into the air with the flap of his wings.

The storms are high, Dark clouds above and winds so whipping it could cause lacerations. Lucifer tells you that you're coming down with him now, That you will be siphoned away to hell with him forever.

Lucifer thinks your just overreacting, And hey! He's been there too and its not like he's actually angry at you, No, Just at the people around you. He knows you'll understand why he's doing this, That's why he tells you what he had done to your sister.

You go deathly silent once he tells you he's got Eve as collateral, When he explains with that same awkward yet now manic demeanour that you were so use to before. He says that he won't hesitate to take her out if that's what it'll take for you to listen, All while smiling like this is an everyday affair.

You and your sister had always had a rocky relationship, Especially since you were put in competition with each other from day one. But you loved her and she loved you, You cared for each other when you could despite your frequent quarrels.

So you had no choice but to agree, A smile lights up on Lucifer's face as he places a chaste yet stomach churning kiss upon your lips. It's nasty, Disgusting. You're still sobbing profusely as your altitude drops, Your climate becoming much hotter and humid.

You feel your body contorting, Mutilating itself. Breaking down and building back up into a wretched caricature of your former self. Horns, Talons, Features of creatures you hadn't even seen before coming upon you.

You scream through the pain, But Lucifer keeps a hand firmly placed on the back of your head. Cold comfort in your new inferno as he tells you how excited he is to finally have you with him full time.

You barely listen, Your body was not yours anymore, It didn't look as such. So how could you listen to his giddy ramblings? The ones you so loved to listen to before..

You shut the eyes your new body had melded, Falling into the darkness of your mind.

Desperately hoping that this was all a dream while the devil caressed your cheek.

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