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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year

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Heavy metal parking lot

eddie munson x metal head fem!reader

summary: the last thing you ever expected was to hit it off with a cute guy at a Judas Priest concert, but stranger things have happened.

warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, all porn almost no plot, no use of y/n, use of pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl etc.), smoking the devils lettuce, queer!eddie, reader has nipple piercings, dom/sub dynamics, some degradation (but eddie is still a simp), oral (m receiving), unprotected rough p in v sex (this is fantasy, pls don’t have unprotected sex with strangers), anal play (f receiving).

notes: just a dirty little one shot. Sorry, there will not be a part two. Thank you to my loves: @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can & @stwritings for beta reading <3 also, blame @bettyfrommars & @xxhellfiregirlxx for me posting this filth on our holy day.

wc: 3.1k

This was a stupid idea, stupid, stupid.

But here you are driving to the market square arena, an hour away from home, dead in the middle of a scorching summer, alone.

You had this elaborate plan for months, ever since you had bought your tickets. You and your best friend Abbee were supposed to meet up at your house, get ready together, go grab some fuel and head to the show a little early to hang out in the parking lot. That unfortunately is not what ended up happening. You got ready…alone, got food…alone and now you’re making the trip…alone.

You can’t be mad at your friend, she did have a very valid excuse as to why she was unable to make it. You couldn’t help but to kick yourself for never being brave enough to put yourself out there and make new friends, but maybe that would change, maybe you would meet some cool people at the show, some Judas Priest fans seemed like the perfect place to start.

The parking lot was jam packed, men and women in all their Judas Priest or Dokken gear, huge banners held out by adoring fans, beer cans littering the lot as weed and cigarette smoke fog the air.

You finally find parking, lucky for you it seems to be the last vacant spot left, squeezed tight between a red Camaro and a brown van.

Better than nothing.

As you exit your black Honda accord, your eyes flit around the lot, taking in your surroundings as you breathe in the second hand smoke.

“Hey, sick shirt.” A gruff voice towards your left calls out. You look around for a second before your eyes finally land on the owner of the van that's parked beside you.

His brown wavy hair gets hit by a gust of wind, as if he’s some hot character in one of those movies that the protagonist is in love with. You definitely couldn’t deny his hotness.

His defenders of the faith shirt clung to his body like a second skin, tight dark blue jeans with a chain adorned his lower half along with white reeboks.

He had a joint perched between his two fingers as his eyes so boldly roamed your figure.

“Thanks,” you acknowledge, as you look down at your ‘hell bent for leather’ cropped tee, and then back up to meet his mischievous smirk. “Yours is sick, too.” You offer in a small but cheerful voice.

“You wanna come smoke with me, pretty girl?” He offers as the mischievous smile grows, like the grinch who stole Christmas.

“Uhh, sure why not?” You shrug, making your way over to the van and taking a seat on the red carpeted floor, your leather mini skirt now hiked up around the very tops of your thighs while your knee high boots hang out the side, resting on the asphalt below you.

“I’m Eddie.” He declares while holding out a heavily ringed hand, you stare it down ogling between his tattoos, black nail polish and badass rings before placing your smaller appendage in his, you firmly shake it with a smile as you tell him your name.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He chuckles before handing you the dwindling joint.

You take a hit while you let your eyes wander around the inside of his van, a small mattress set up with a colorful quilt and two fluffy pillows.

Various magazines of the adult variety scrawled out haphazardly on the floor, a six pack of coors lite sits on the arm rest between the two front seats, breaking the law plays out through the speakers.

Though he’s not the only one, various Judas Priest songs could be heard throughout the stadium's parking lot.

You take another small hit, passing back the now roach sized spliff. Eddie tries to get one more hit out of it, before throwing it to the ground and stepping on it with the toe of his white sneaker.

You begin to stand up with the thought that you may be overstaying your welcome, until Eddie puts a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to go.” The shy look on his face is the total antithesis of his cocky demeanor when he’d first waved you over.

“Oh, okay. I just didn’t want to bother or keep you from anything.” Your response is sheepish and the butterflies in your belly begin fluttering about.

“No baby, you're not keeping me from anything.” He beams.

That damn nickname pulls you in like a moth to a flame.

As you and Eddie grow better acquainted, you realize he has a great sense of humor with an eccentric personality.

You also quickly realize you want him.

Right here in the back of his van.

You scoot your bottom back, making your way into the wagon. The action causes your skirt to roll up further along your thighs, giving Eddie the perfect glimpse of your black panties.

You swing your feet inside and hoist yourself up on your knees, as graceful as possible. Waddling over like a penguin to fling yourself onto the mattress that had your mind wandering.

“Mmm, this is comfy.” You sigh with a smile, as your body burrows deeper into the off white sheets below you.

Eddie stands just outside the door, eyes unable to leave your backside as you cuddle up on his mattress. ‘Was this his lucky day?’ This shit never happens to him, well at least not with women anyway. He had better luck with men.

Thank you Judas Priest, Eddie silently prays to the sky before making his way inside the vehicle to join you.

“Mind if I lay down?” He mumbles, surprising you with his close proximity.

You turn, catching onto the puppy dog eyes he’s giving you; and what you would give to have them looking down at you while he’s working your body to sweet, sweet release.

“No, of course not.” You giggle, the sound makes Eddie twitch in his pants.

He was a sweet boy, you wanted him to fucking ruin you.

You turn to face him, head resting on your palm as you pat the spot beside you.

The sly smirk returns as he lays down on the mattress, mirroring your exact position.

“Shows gonna start in an hour.” He whispers, scooting in closer towards you, the warmth radiating off of his skin is sending your body into a frenzy.

“Mm, so we have enough time?” You sweetly whisper back.

“Enough time for what? Hmm?” Your bodies continue to gravitate together, a pull so strong it was like you were both attached to magnets.

“For this..” you breathily huff before straddling Eddie’s waist, the groan that escapes him makes your eyes roll back, as you begin to grind down on his growing erection.

“Fuck” Eddie hisses as his hands fall to your waist, now controlling your movements and pulling you in deeper.

“That’s exactly what I intend on doing.” The air gets caught in your throat as a small laugh leaves your lips, your clit catching on rough denim fabric, Eddie swears every time you giggle it’s like an angel gets its wings. It’s sweet and soft, just like you.

You lean in closer, soft plump lips meeting yours in a tangle of tongues, it’s hot and desperate as you are for each other.

Eddie moans into your mouth as your movements get more daring, practically bouncing on his clothed lap. His eyes quickly flicker to your tits as they jiggle with each bounce, it’s clear you’re not wearing a bra, and the idea makes Eddie’s mouth water and his cock stiffen. It feels the hardest it's been since he took a dick in his ass for the very first time. He needs to be inside you and he hopes you're willing to give him that, he’ll do anything for it, at this moment. He feels like a desperate idiot; but he is, he really is so fucking desperate for you.

You immediately notice the way Eddie’s eyes have been trained on the perky slopes of your breasts, with an ever growing smirk you take the hem and hike the shirt up and over your head to be discarded on the red carpet of his van.

“Holy shit!” Eddie practically pants, like a dog who’s out of water.

His decorated hands move up from your hips as they begin to tweak at your nipples, nimble fingers rubbing over the double balled jewelry that sits on each hardened peak.

“Fuck, such pretty tits!” He groans “and they’re pierced, Jesus.” Eddie was enthralled, absolutely fucking enthralled by you.

You lean down, planting soft kisses to Eddie’s long, beautiful neck, leaving behind remenits of your red lipstick and spit soaked bruises.

“Mmm…” he hums as you suck and bite at a spot under his ear lobe.

“Please, fuck me.” You breathily murmur into his ear, before you lift yourself back up using his pecs as leverage, eyes meeting his as you gauge his reaction to your plea.

“You sure, baby?” He whispers before leaving a sloppy kiss to your jaw.

“I’m so sure, please Eddie.” The way you moan his name as you beg for him creates something feral inside of Eddie, his eyes now glazed over into something dark, his jaw tightens as he grabs two rough handfuls of your ass, that are now exposed while your skirt sits carelessly on your lower back.

His right hand slowly glides up your body and into your hair, quickly tightening his fingers around the strands at the base of your neck.

“You want my cock, princess?” He challenges through his teeth.

“Yes, mmhmm, so bad!” You insist with a shout, having your hair pulled has always made you drip between your legs.

“Then go on.. take my cock out, you cock hungry little slut.” He growls as his fingers wrap tighter around your hair before quickly pulling his hand away, he gives your ass one hard spank before he’s back to grabbing at the meat.

You make quick work of his handcuff belt, unbuttoning and swiftly pulling down the zipper before dipping your thumbs into the waistband of both his boxers and jeans and peeling them off, leaving both garments to sit around the tops of his knees.

The sight you’re met with causes you to gasp, he has to be at least 9 inches, it was red and throbbing, wetness from his precum already saturating the mushroom tip.

“Like what you see, baby?” He brags with a smirk that could make Satan himself shiver.

“You’re so pretty, every part of you.” You admit as you lick your bottom lip, with hunger in your eyes.

Eddie wraps a ringed hand around the base of his cock, vulgarly slapping the air with it,

“Where do you want it, huh sweetheart?” His grunt made more slick pool from your needy cunt.

Showing is better than telling, so you plant your knees between his thighs, bringing your face mere inches from his pulsing hard sex.

“Holy fuck, are you gonna—” his eyes roll back as your tongue glides up the underside of his cock, before wrapping your lips around his tip. “No girl has ever given me head.” He huffs while throwing his head back.

You let go of his cock with a wet pop, “no one’s ever sucked your dick before?” You scrunch your face up in confusion, there’s no way he’s never been treated to some head, that would be a travesty.

“I have, j-just not by a-a women.” He stutters out in embarrassment, as his face flushes a bright red that travels down his neck.

It takes you a second to understand what he means, “oh” was all you said, before shrugging and getting back to work on his tip.

He smiles down at you, pulling all of your hair out of your face and holding it together in a makeshift ponytail as he gently guides your head up and down on him, until you’re taking him deeper, so deep your nose is now brushing against the curly hairs at his base, you swallow his tip down before you begin rapidly moving and twisting your head as if a women possessed.

“Oh my— whoa, fuck baby!” He keens into the stuffy air of the van, “your mouth feels so fucking good!” He begins rapidly pumping his hips up, fucking your throat as spit strings fall to his balls, you reach a hand out and begin massaging them, making him growl in pleasure.

“Okay baby, okay angel please, please stop.” Eddie whimpers as he pulls you off of his cock, the spit on your lips remains connected to Eddie’s tip.

He rubs over the messy swollen flesh with the pad of his thumb, as he hums in satisfaction.

“All fours, now.” He commands before shifting up and onto his knees, you crawl further up the mattress, finally laying your head against the sheets that were now dampened by his back, you arch your ass up while making sure your stomach was equally lowered, the position causing your ass to stick out more for him.

“Good girl.” He praised before giving your ass another harsh slap. “Let’s get these off of you.” Eddie slides your black thong over your butt and down your legs, slowly pulling them off from around your feet.

He throws your panties towards the front of the driver's seat, the black fabric lands perfectly on his dashboard. “M’keepin’ those.” He chuckles.

You’re so lost in desire, that someone could’ve told you Rob Halford himself was out signing autographs and you wouldn’t have bat an eyelash or made any attempts to move.

“Fuck, look at these pretty holes.” Eddie groans while running the tips of his fingers from your clit up towards your asshole. “You like getting all of your holes filled, princess?” He smirks at the way your body reacts to him and how loud you moan at his words.

Your ‘yes’ is muffled by the mattress, Eddie’s having none of it.

SLAP!

“Speak up!” He grumbles, before taking both cheeks roughly in his hands and spreading them.

“Yes! I love it!” Your wail has Eddie’s smirk growing more devilish

“I know you do.” He mocks as his middle finger teases your entrance, he causes your body to writhe and groan in desperation by slipping just the tip of his finger in and out of your aching hole.

Finally after all of his teasing, he slips his full finger inside, pumping in and out at a splitting speed.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He gasps while resting his head on your backside as he still works you with his finger, finally slipping another one in and scissoring them in an attempt to stretch you out.

He hasn’t even fucked you, yet you’re still an incoherent mess as slobber begins to pool on the sheets below your face.

His head starts to slowly move closer to where you’re spread, you gasp and wiggle when you feel his wet tongue slowly lick over your puckered hole.

“Oh fuck!” You blubber, the action making you clench around Eddie’s fingers.

“Mm, oh you like getting your asshole licked?” He scoffs in a teasing tone “it feels good, doesn’t it?”

All you can do is nod and sob into his cheap cologne smelling sheets.

Slowly slipping his fingers out as he moves in closer, replacing his digits with his throbbing cock.

“You ready, princess?” He surveys as he runs his calloused hands up and down your back, gently rubbing at your soft skin.

“Mmhm, I’m ready.” You consent while lifting your head to get a good look at him as he slides into you.

His tip begins breaching your entrance as your eyes remain locked on each other, you and Eddie’s brows are both furrowed and jaws slack as he pushes in deeper.

“Oh, fuck!” Eddie growls as he continues to stretch you out. If he were to die in this very moment, he would die a happy man, the way your pussy is squeezing and choking him; he’s fucked tight assholes, but never a pussy this tight and he thinks it might be his new favorite thing, the way you get so effortlessly wet and the ridges on your walls that stimulate his cock so sensationally. The weed makes his mind go to some weird places; maybe I found some kind of holy grail pussy? He shakes his head of the weird thoughts beginning to plague his mind.

“Yes, right there!” Your screeching brings him back down to this dimension, making him drive deeper and pound harder into you, hitting that spongy spot over and over until you’re shaking underneath him, knees almost buckling at the intense pleasure that is now conquering your body. His fingers are pressed so deep into the skin of your upper thighs, that you’re positive they’ll be bruised by tomorrow.

“Right there?” Eddie mockingly smirks as he hits it over and over with his tip, “that your spot, baby?”

Your “mmhmm” comes out so whiny and desperate, he knew you were close and so was he but he needed to see you fall apart first.

Eddie quickly brings his thumb up to his lips, the calloused finger dipping into his mouth as he sucks, getting it all nice and wet before you feel it prodding your unused hole, he begins thrusting faster as his digit reaches the second knuckle. “Oh my god, you have the tightest fucking holes.” He sounds so out of breath and fucked out by this point, his loud groans, filthy words and extra finger are making you reach that peak of toe curling completion at a hurdling speed.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whine as you begin to back up into his thrusts, making his cock and finger hit deeper depths.

“Yes, cum for me baby.” He urges as he’s on the precipice of his own high.

“Yes, yes…” you babble as your body tenses, uncontrollably shaking as you come undone, Eddie’s thumb continues to work your asshole, while he fucks you through the most intense orgasm you’ll probably ever have.

“I-I’m coming baby, fuck!” Eddie shouts before he pulls himself out of your tight heat, hand maniacally working his cock until his warm seed spurts into your stretched out asshole.

“Holy shit!” He groans while his body falls over yours, you both begin to laugh until you hear someone pound their fist on the side of the van.

“Hey, Eddie—” you gasp at the disturbance, eyes going wide when you catch a glance at the metalhead, “the show's about to start man, everyone’s lining up at the door!” The raspy masculine voice calls out again, before you’re left in silence.

You and Eddie begin frantically getting dressed in hopes to get a good spot in line.

Once out into the fresh summer air, Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders, “you wanna watch the show with us, princess?” He proposes with a sweet grin, while lighting a cigarette.

You were right, a Judas Priest concert was the perfect place to make new friends.

taglist:

@michellecrusher @ali-r3n @crybabyddl @definitelynotecho @ajkamins @daniellabrandt @bl4ckt00thgr1n

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #eddie munson fic

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drchucktingle · 1 year

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favorite author i have never read

hey there buckaroos thank you for all the DEEP DISCUSSIONS we are having a great time here on tumblr. thought today i could make a post that is slightly more difficult its not all sunshine days ahead and requires a little introspection. LOOK AT US we have all arrived here together through trust and love and i think we can keep this going. chuck made this post on other platforms years ago and i think it was said very well then and led to some good discussion, so i am going to repost here. okay lets go deep bud here we go:

i would like to spend moment today talking about common joke i hear online (and even too my face at conventions). this is jokerman way i hear ALL the dang time: 'chuck tingle is my favorite author i have never read' or less jokerman way but of ‘i have never read his books but i love chuck tingle'.

first of all, THANK YOU buds. this is not way of call out post to make you feel bad, i appreciate your way and understand you are trying to support. this is not attack on your message and from bottom of chucks heart THANK YOU.

BUT i have to say something about this. please consider what you are saying when you post this. would you send this as message to STEPHEN KING or NEIL GAIMAN or NK JEMISIN? i doubt this. it would seem VERY RUDE to message other authors. just imagine trotting up to a writer and saying ‘i would NEVER read your books haha’ but it is sent to chuck all the dang time.

obvious reason buds say it to chuck is that i am queer author with a unique way. yes i write in realm of wild fantasy and erotic pairings, but by saying ‘i have never read chuck BUT' you are really saying 'i am posting my support of this but PLEASE DONT THINK I AM REALLY INTERESTED IN THIS PERSONALLY.' there are similar distasteful jokes that i will not repeat involving saying 'no bud on bud pounds' after a sentence that works in similar way.

is sexual art really that bad? is queer art really that embarrassing? is unusual outsider art really that funny?

it is one thing if your preferred pound is not one of chucks tinglers, that is TOTALLY FINE BUD, but if you are an adult i would say 'is it REALLY that scary to read a book about a way of sex that is not yours? is it that difficult to think that something that seems silly to you could actually MOVE YOU in an important way? do you HAVE to disconnect yourself from lgtbqia art with a 'but i don't read this myself?'

keep in mind, there are gay tinglers, there are asexual tinglers, there are trans tinglers, there are select your own timeline tinglers, there are horror tinglers. TINGLERS FOR EVERY TASTE. the thing that buds are often REALLY saying with ‘favorite author i have never read’ is ‘this is WEIRD and dont be confused because im NOT WEIRD IM COOL DONT THINK I ACTUALLY LIKE THIS’. funny enough even the proudly fun and wild and unique buckaroos will STILL say this line, maybe without taking time to think of what it means or how rude it is?

WHY would you never read a chuck book? because my way is queer? because it is neurodivergent? even if that is not there reason or even if YOUR ARE ALSO PERSONALLY QUEER AND NEURODIVERGENT TOO, think about what the joke is IMPLYING.

is sincerely enjoying something thats kind of unusual that difficult? do we really have to slather it in irony and ‘so bad its good?’ before reposting?

in closing as man name of chuck i will say you can still make this joke if you want buckaroos i know you are just having a good time proving love in your own way. i am not upset with you bud and i appreciate your support in any way you give it. there are some buckaroos who just CANT AFFORD tinglers and that is an important way i understand as well. obviously this conversation does not apply to those buds. but for the rest of us trotting along, MAYBE think about what you are really saying with this jokerman way first, and MAYBE try cracking open a tingler because you might be surprised. its not that scary bud. thank you for listening

being sincere is VERY COOL and VERY PUNK ROCK. i encourage all buckaroos out there to give it a try.

LOVE IS REAL

#chuck tingle #tingleverse #art theory #queer #lgbtqia #outsider art #neurodivergent #autism #irony #sincerity #love is real #favorite author i have never read

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mockerycrow · 1 year

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Hello!!!!!! So i was wonderinfg if you could do a piece for cod mw2? A platonic 141 (other characters can be added if youd like) x (preferably 18-20 yr old) gn or fem reader. It can be a oneshot or headcannons, i dont mind either format!!! If you do a oneshot, any scenario (a mission, off duty, etc) is fine w me!!! You basically have free reign, just keep it strictly platonic, not even a smidge of the hints w the reader and romantic relationships 👍❤️

Ain’t That A Kick In The Head? (Platonic!141 x Fem!Reader)

cod masterlist

A/N: YESS!! I LOVE PLATONIC FICS!! 99% of my writing so far has been romantic, kind of funny considering I’m aromantic and queer. thank you anon <3 i’m also sorry for taking so long. your speciality isn’t specified, but it can’t be demolitions, im sorry!! plot purposes.

[WARNINGS: mentioned misogyny, fluff.]

Considering how young you are, you deal with quite a lot of people who have low expectations for you. To be fair, you don’t have much experience, but you are a quick learner and that’s very much needed on this base. You’re a Specialist, one rank above Private in the U.S. army ranks. When people first meet you, they expect you to be a coward, a twenty year old girl—is what they like to call you—who doesn’t know the difference between a 5.56 mm cartridge and a 7.62 mm cartridge, a clueless little girl. Of course you did not know everything, but it was clear you know enough and have enough skill as you’re apart of the 141.

When you were first picked for the team, Ghost was a bit skeptical. Your age played a big factor because he was concerned about your level of experience, but he overall trusts Price’s judgement. A huge part of it was him worried about how you would take in all of the traumatizing sights they see on every mission. How you would be able to take someone down without a second thought, even if they pleaded for their life. He didn’t voice this worry, nor did he do anything to “shield” you because he knows you know what you signed up for.

You physically train/spar with Ghost and Gaz separately frequently. They are different in size and in style of defense/attack, so they both give you great pointers on how to defend yourself and how to initiate an attack. You have a schedule with them; when you’re on base, you train with Gaz Mondays and Tuesdays and Ghosts on Thursdays, preferably early in the morning with Gaz and in the evening with Ghost. Even when you perfect your own style for attack and defense, you keep training with them; “So you don’t get rusty.”

Price knows what you signed up for, and he knows that he picked you, so like everyone else on the task force, he begins to train you. Being an expert in violence and timing—unconventional warfare too, he occasionally sits in on your training sessions with Gaz and/or Ghost. Sometimes, he talks with Gaz or Ghost beforehand to set up a specific scenario for you to find a way to get out of alive.

Being said, Price takes you out as well as the team to a training field, doing the exact same thing but in a more.. realistic scenario. Being so young, he figures you still have an unacceptable type of response with “fight, flight, or freeze”. His plan is to strip away the freeze response because that’s the one that will get you killed. He also very specifically has himself and your teammates as the enemies in this field because while you’re supposed to trust your team with your life, there’s also often betrayal in the field.

Soap is a demolitions expert, as well as a sniper. He absolutely refuses to let you handle real bombs at first because he knows you didn’t specialize in demolitions like he did. After spending a few months with you, he brings out non-dangerous replicas of bombs and replicated parts to begin to show you how to take a bomb apart/defuse it, when it’s best to let it explode, or how to put one together for emergencies. He absolutely 110% makes sure you know it’s for emergencies when he isn’t there. It’s not that he thinks you’re incapable, but he can’t help but worry. Him learning about how Gaz and Price met, how Price only had seconds to shove the hostage with a bomb vest strapped to him over that railing? Fucking terrifying to him.

Gaz also helps you complete your interrogation training—not being the interrogator, but then interrogatee. Undergoing several mentally challenging tests himself of this variety, he tasks himself with giving you pointers. Your task is to keep your mouth shut about intel and escape the facility and remain hidden, uncaptured during the entire test. He’s so incredibly used to uncomfortable situations, so his pointers during this—seeing that he passed this test himself, the only one who past it in his class—his advice is helpful.

Besides training with Ghost, he coaches you ambushes and stealth. Every time you’re caught in a test, he coaches you on how to evade, on how to remain hidden even when the enemy is right in front of you. He teaches you how to set up traps and ruses, what traps are most commonly used and spotted and what ones aren’t.

Overall, they know you’re inexperienced and young, but you quickly take their advice and training into account, and you get to teach them a thing or two when you arrive on base. You learn quick and Price finally feels as if you’re ready for an intense stealth mission, accompanied by the team. They don’t have any doubt held in their hearts for you, 100% trusting your abilities.

#call of duty #call of duty mwii #mw2 2022 #cod mw2 #modern warfare ii #mw2022 #cod #cod mw ghost #ghost x reader #price x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john price x reader #john mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #platonic #young!reader #cod headcanons

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safety-pin-punk · 1 year

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hey queer nd teen here i've been really interested in punk culture and the message drives me to tears but i'm scared of being called a poser because i feel like a coward

i hate cops and i think they should fucking die and the government is fucked and we have to look after each other. but i feel backed into a corner because i'm surrounded by family who would laugh at me and just wouldn't understand and i don't feel like i can Handle it but i Want to

as a shy and nonconfrontational teen with a shit ton of anxiety to boot i dunno. i admire brave hardcore punks who beat up cops and nazis but i Can't Be That

no need for a response but it would be nice

When I was a teen, I was told by my best friend that I could never be a punk. That I would never be a punk. But here I am. I was a shy quiet kid, and I’m still pretty quiet and prefer to avoid confrontations when I can. My point is, these things don’t prevent people from being a punk if its in their nature

Not all punks are the big tough punks who can physically fight those fights. Though they are a very important part of our community. But we also have plenty of disabled, neurodivergent, and chronically ill people who are just as punk, and even people who are just not into violence. They are advocates, they are researchers, they are community care takers. Being a punk isnt all about fighting evil. I actually think thats not the best way to look at it at all. Being punk is about caring for your community. And while ‘fighting evil’ is a part of it, there are a lot more things that entails.

If you truly want to be a punk, it seems like you are already going down the right path. You alluded to a not so great home life where it might not be the best idea to dress in alternative styles. You could always start with smaller, more subtle things. Or you can just wait until you can move out to start exploring that. Remember, being punk is more than just an aesthetic, and while the aesthetic may look cool, it is by no means a requirement to be a punk (honestly half the time I run around it cowboy boots and a flannel - in the winter I usually add the hat too)

You are a teen still. Growing and learning about yourself and the world around you. And so are your peers. Any teen who calls you a poser is being a jerk and doesn’t know all that much about the scene. Any grown adult that calls you a poser is probably a poser themselves who refuses to acknowledge that not every person comes from the same background. But I also feel like it’s important to tell you that what anyone else says shouldnt matter that much. Even if it feels like it does, if you let their words matter to you, you are giving them all the control.

Its okay to be young and not know a lot. Its okay to not dress alternative for any number of reasons. Its okay to not feel like you could go off and fight bad people. None of those things make you a poser.

#mail tag #punk #punx #punk culture #puppy punk #baby punk

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mia-ugly · 10 months

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In honour of Good Omens Season 2

HAVE A SLOW SHOW FICLET with thanks to @weatheredlaw for the amazing graphic ❤️❤️❤️ how we doing fam

It’s a kid on set that first tells him.

Not really a kid, but anyone less than thirty seems a kid to him these days (ugh, that’s a loathsome thought.) Jiyana’s a queer and pink-haired punk type, rainbow pin on their jacket, trans-pride flag tattooed on their inner wrist. The first time he met them, the whole wirey confident glittery thing made his gut clench with - what was it - joy and gratitude but also envy? Maybe? (because what must it be like to be that young and that certain of yourself? What must it be like to have the whole world open in front of you? Not that there still isn’t a lot of shit to deal with, and in Merry Old fucking England there is More Shit than Otherwise, but. Still. It’s something Crowley thinks about. Sometimes. When he hasn’t had enough sleep or when he’s had too much of it.)

The kid came up to him Day One to mumble about “being a big fan” and once they wore a Warlock t-shirt to an afterparty (“Vintage!” they said cheerily, and Crowley wanted to swallow his own face at the thought of something from the 2010s being considered vintage, good Christ.)

Anyway, Jiyana tells him first.

“Congrats on the new season!” They’re beside him in the makeup trailer. Crowley doesn’t realise they’re talking to him, assumes they’re wearing AirPods or something, until George gives him a nudge with the powder puff.

“Er, yeah, cheers.” It’s too early to talk to anyone this perky. Then his exhausted, coffee-less brain takes a moment to catch up with his exhausted, coffee-less mouth. “Er, wait, what?”

“Warlock. Heard it’s coming back. Did I tell you I wrote a paper on it in, like, Grade 10? So cool, the GSA at my highschool used to have watch parties, I can’t wait to see what they do with your -“

“Wait -“ Warlock? It’s been bloody years. “Where’d you hear this?”

The kid starts to list off some sites or social media whatsits that Crowley has never heard of, so he just nods and pretends to understand, the same way he does when Az’s niece tries to explain some show called “Jojo’s Big Adventure” or something. Validate, validate, empathise. Just like Pepper taught him.

It’s probably nothing right? A rumour.

But it’s a rumour Az has heard too.

When Crowley gets home that night (they’ve rented a house in Buckinghamshire, even though the studio’s not two hours from their cottage) Az is on him immediately. Heard about it from his sister apparently, who got the news from one of the kids.

“Isn’t that exciting?” His face is all lit up and his hair is wet, bathrobe snugly belted around his waist. The house has an indoor pool, and there are little indents on Avery’s nose where his extremely attractive and sexy swimming-goggles must have been resting.

Crowley presses his lips to each mark.

“Not that we’ve been going hungry or wanting for work –” Az continues.

“You work too bloody much,” Crowley murmurs into his cheekbone.

“But I do love those characters. The whole thing wrapped up so nicely though – what more is there to tell? I wonder what the arc could possibly be.”

“I wonder what you’ve got on under this robe –”

“Anthony!” Az laughs in fake protest, tilting his head back so that Crowley can get his mouth on his throat. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Az tastes like chlorine, and maybe Crowley should join him in the shower after this. After a day in the studio, he could probably use it.

“Would you really want to do a series again?” Crowley asks after he’s finally let his husband go, turned to hang up his coat and thrown his bag on the nearest chair. “Awful lot of commitment. And you’ve that whole run at the Globe coming up, don’t rehearsals start in the spring?”

“We’ll have to see if Helen can mind the goats again while we’re in London.” Az has wandered into the kitchen, turned on the kettle. Crowley looks at the back of his neck (Crowley always looks at the back of his neck. Sometimes he dreams about it.) “If she’s free. I called her this morning to check in, Elmyra’s eating, so her anxiety must be getting better.”

“Cool, yeah,” Crowley says, casual and nonchalant and no big deal. As if Elmyra isn’t his favourite of the bunch and he doesn’t have a song that he made up and no one knows that he sings just to her. As if he didn’t hand feed her all night once because she wasn’t sleeping or eating and neither was he because he was so afraid this tiny rescue goat was going to starve to death, anyway whatever, super cool, who cares. “Is it weird that no one’s reached out to us, though? Do you think?”

“About the goats? Helen has my number –”

“No love, the Warlock thing.”

Az blinks at him, flutters his pretty blond lashes in an attractive, aggrieved sort of way. “You mean you haven’t heard from Beez?”

“I haven’t heard from anyone.”

“Oh.” Az thinks it over. “Well. Neither have I, actually. Do you – is that odd?”

“Maybe they’ve recast us with younger models.”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

“Gotta up the sex appeal of the whole thing. Jawlines. Cheekbones. Sexy results.”

“I –” Az goes a bit pink. Glances at Crowley and then away. “Fail to see how they could improve upon perfection.”

Crowley looks at his husband’s bathrobe and the slight scattering of silver chest hair and his hand on his tea cup and fuck off, his neck. His neck, his neck, who gives a shit about Warlock actually?

“Come over here and say that to my mouth.”

Avery smiles, and sighs, and he does.

ONE YEAR LATER:

Crowley opens the email from Beez.

He fuckin' closes it.

#a slow dumb show for you #slow show #good omens fanfic #fic what i wrote #good omens

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seths-rogens · 10 months

Note

82 and steddie for the ANGST

i wrote this ENTIRELY ON THE CLOCK i feel both powerful and insane anyway here u go bestie, some lovely steddie angst <33

word count: 1.1k

——————

82. “This is a one time thing.”

He should’ve known.

Should’ve known when Eddie’s eyes fell hooded. Should’ve known when his back was pressed hard against the wall of his hallway. When Eddie’s tongue was down his throat. Should’ve known when Eddie pressed in slow and his head fell back against the pillow.

It should’ve been obvious. He should’ve known.

But now, lying bare, covered only by the thin top sheet, Steve frowns as he watches Eddie sit up and start searching for his clothes.

“What’re you doing?” He fiddles with the covers, pinching and twisting them between his fingers.

Eddie barely spares a glance over his shoulder.

“What does it look like?” He reaches down, shuffles as he pulls on his boxers. The low light casts shadows over the curve of his back, illuminates the Gauth tattoo he got a week last Friday. “This was a one time thing, Harrington. Did you expect me to stay and cuddle?”

Steve’s stomach drops like he’s falling from a height. He feels sick, anxiety rolling through his stomach.

Is this all he’s good for? A quick fuck and nothing more?

Does he not deserve more than just this?

Spiralling is never a nice feeling.

He laughs, cold and harsh, plastering on that old ‘King Steve’ persona and crossing his arms tight over his chest. Nothing can break through that tough exterior. “Course not. Why would I expect anything from you?”

Eddie has his shirt on now. He’s stood, searching the floor for where he tossed his jeans. He meets Steve’s eye at his stern tone.

“Woah, whats your deal man?”

“My deal? There’s no deal.” Steve shakes his head, a glare settled on his face.

“I mean, clearly there is. You were fine like five minutes ago and now, what? You’re acting all bitchy for some reason?”

“Fucking rich coming from you, Munson.”

Eddie’s eyes widen in shock. “The fuck?” He mutters under his breath. “What’s gotten into you? You haven’t called me Munson in months!”

Steve glowers, tosses the covers back and strides, naked as the day he was born, into the bathroom. “You can see yourself out.”

A clean break will be easier. He can lose it in private once Eddie’s gone.

He goes to shut the door but a palm slams down, holding it open. Steve flinches, eyes flicking up to meet Eddie’s.

“Wait a goddamn minute, man. What did I do?” Eddie looks desperate now, where before he seemed apathetic. Steve can’t help but be confused at the shift.

“Why do you care? I thought this was a one time thing?”

“It is! That’s what you wanted!”

Steve let’s out a short breath, ducks his head and punches the bridge of his nose. He can’t help the tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. “You didn’t even ask me.” He chokes out.

“What?”

“You didn’t ask me what I want.”

A crease appears between Eddie’s eyebrows, confusion swimming in his eyes. “You’re not a queer, Steve. You just wanted to get off, right? It’s okay. I’m not mad that that’s all you want.”

Steve laughs, letting go of the door and running a hand down his face. A couple tears spill over. “And you were just there, right?”

“Exactly. We’re friends. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Steve’s voice breaks. “You think I would use you like that? That’s how little you think of me?”

“What? Stevie, sunshine, no. I think the world of you.”

“Then why is it a one time thing! Why can’t I be more? Am I not good enough? Don’t I deserve it?”

“Sweetheart—“

“No.” He puts his foot down. “You don’t get to call me that if you’re just gonna fuck me and toss me to the side.”

Eddie flinches as if struck. “I—“

“I’m so tired, Eddie. I’m so tired of being this person everyone thinks is only good for sex. I don’t even care about sex that much!” Steve runs a hand through his hair, before grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his hips. He’s too exposed. “Like yeah, sure, it’s fun. But I want more than that! I like the hand holding and the dates and the inside jokes. I don’t want just sex. I want to be loved.”

Eddie’s expression softens, his eyes a little wet. “You are so loved, Steve Harrington. Robin and Dustin and the rest of the kids love you so much. Hell, they would die for you.”

Steve shakes his head, staring at the floor. Eddie’s holy socks next to his bare feet. “That’s not what I mean. That’s different.”

“You want to be in love.”

Steve nods. “Yeah.”

“Well, I—“ Eddie starts. Steve looks up at him, a glimmer of hope lighting in his chest. “No. Never mind, I don’t even know what I was going to say.”

He takes a step back, steps into his jeans and pulls them up. He’s fiddling with the belt buckle when he says, “I should get going. I’m sorry I upset you.”

He makes for the door but doesn’t get far before Steve stops him. “Eds?”

Eddie stops but doesn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

“What were you going to say?”

Eddie shakes his head, croaks out an answer. “Nothing, Stevie. Promise.”

“No.” Steve squeezes his eyes shut as he whispers the plea. “Please say it.”

Eddie turns around.

His eyes are closed. His fists clenched so tightly his skin is pulled white. “You could never want me. So why ask for more when I could have you for one night?”

Steve makes a pained noise but says nothing, sensing Eddie isn’t finish. Eddie let’s out a shaky sigh.

“I thought I was protecting myself. Limiting it to one night, one time. I thought we could just move on. Just be friends who had sex that one time.” He laughs, soft and self deprecating. “But it’s never that easy with you, Stevie. I knew as soon as we finished that if I let myself stay, if I held you for even a moment, that I’d never recover.”

Steve steps towards him, hapless to resist.

“So I acted like it meant nothing. And I’m sorry I did, truly. If I knew you felt like that, I wouldn’t have.”

“How do I feel, Eddie?”

Eddie’s face scrunches up, pained or maybe nervous. “You… you love me? Right?”

Steve nods. Takes another step forward. “And?”

“And I love you.”

For the first time all night, Steve smiles. The full, gleaming one he doesn’t let slip often. It lightens his eyes, bares his teeth.

He steps closer still until they’re almost chest to chest.

Steve wraps his fingers around the handcuffs that make up Eddie’s belt buckle. He tugs and Eddie stumbles forward until they’re flush.

With his other hand, Steve loosens his towel. Lets it fall.

He cups Eddie’s jaw in his hands, leans in until there’s only a whisper of space between their lips.

“Well then, maybe this doesn’t have to be a one time thing.”

—————

send me a prompt!

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #prompt fill #zee writes

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gatheringbones · 2 years

Text

[“Why not identify as bi? That’s a complicated question. For a while, I thought I was simply being biphobic. There’s a lot of that going around in the gay community. Most of us had to struggle so hard to be exclusively homosexual that we resent people who don’t make a similar commitment. A self-identified bisexual is saying, ‘Men and women are of equal impor- tance to me.’ That’s simply not true of me. I’m a Kinsey Five, and when I turn on to a man it’s because he shares some aspect of my sexuality (like S/M or fisting) that turns me on despite his biological sex.

There’s yet another twist. I have eroticized queerness, gayness, homo- sexuality – in men and women. The leatherman and the drag queen are sexy to me, along with the diesel dyke with greased-back hair, and the femme stalking across the bar in her miniskirt and high-heeled shoes. I’m a fag hag.

The gay community’s attitude toward fag hags and dyke daddies has been pretty nasty and unkind. Fag hags are supposed to be frustrated, traditionally feminine, heterosexual women who never have sex with their handsome, slightly effeminate escorts – but desperately want to. Consequently, their nails tend to be long and sharp, and their lipstick runs to the bloodier shades of carmine. And They Drink. Dyke daddies are supposed to be beer-bellied rednecks who hang out at lesbian bars to sexually harass the female patrons. The nicer ones are suckers who get taken for drinks or loans that will never be repaid.

These stereotypes don’t do justice to the complete range of modern faghaggotry and dyke daddydom. Today fag hags and dyke daddies are as likely to be gay themselves as the objects of their admiration.

I call myself a fag hag because sex with men outside the context of the gay community doesn’t interest me at all. In a funny way, when two gay people of opposite sexes make it, it’s still gay sex. No heterosexual couple brings the same experiences and attitudes to bed that we do. These generalizations aren’t perfectly true, but more often than straight sex, gay sex assumes that the use of hands or the mouth is as important as genital-to-genital contact. Penetration is not assumed to be the only goal of a sexual encounter. When penetration does happen, dildos and fingers are as acceptable as (maybe even preferable to) cocks. During gay sex, more often than during straight sex, people think about things like lubrication and ‘fit’. There’s no such thing as ‘foreplay’. There’s good sex, which includes lots of touching, and there’s bad sex, which is nonsensual. Sex roles are more flexible, so nobody is automatically on the top or the bottom. There’s no stigma attached to masturbation, and gay people are much more accepting of porn, fantasies, and fetishes.

And, most importantly, there is no intention to ‘cure’ anybody. I know that a gay man who has sex with me is making an exception and that he’s still gay after we come and clean up. In return I can make an exception for him because I know he isn’t trying to convert me to heterosexuality.

I have no way of knowing how many lesbians and gay men are less than exclusively homosexual. But I do know I’m not the only one. Our actual behaviour (as opposed to the ideology that says homosexuality means being sexual only with members of the same sex) leads me to ask questions about the nature of sexual orientation, how people (especially gay people) define it, and how they choose to let those definitions control and limit their lives.

During one of our interminable discussions in Samois about whether or not to keep the group open to bi women, Gayle Rubin pointed out that a new, movement-oriented definition of lesbianism was in conflict with an older, bar-oriented definition. Membership in the old gay culture consisted of managing to locate a gay bar and making a place for yourself in bar society. Even today, nobody in a bar asks you how long you’ve been celibate with half the human race before they will check your coat and take your order for a drink. But in the movement, people insist on a kind of purity that has little to do with affection, lust, or even political commitment. Gayness becomes a state of sexual grace, like virginity. A fanatical insistence on one hundred percent exclusive, same-sex behaviour often sounds to me like superstitious fear of contamination or pollution. Gayness that has more to do with abhorrence for the other sex than with an appreciation of your own sex degenerates into a rabid and destructive separatism.”]

pat califa, public sex: the culture of radical sex, 1994, 2000

#pat califa #lesbian literature #history stuff #gender stuff #terra preta

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queenofthedisneyverse · 1 year

Text

Prowler!Miles x Black Male! Reader (angst to fluff)

TW; some cursing but not a lot

Word count: 2,803

You loved miles, ever since you were eight years old. But ever since his dad died things…have changed. The city has gotten worse, it was already bad but without Miles’s father, it’s gotten worse. Miles has changed more though, his once kind and funny nature turned cold, stoic, and nonchalant. You also changed but only to protect yourself, if you looked like a happy sunshine sunflower in the sin city that is new york you would have been jumped.

So, you and Miles share the same look most of the time, and that look is usually resting b!tch face. You still yourself though, you like helping out where you can and being kind where kindness is needed. Crime is often in New york, so you prefer to only go straight to school, home, and/or Miles’s house. No going out at night whatsoever, that’s a given. But even getting the grocery list done seems like a life or death task because on any given day, it could be a life or death situation. So you mostly keep to yourself or chat with some friends or your bf Miles.

He loves to spoil you and just loves you. Affection is there but you two are building up to it, hand holding, hugs, kisses on the cheek, etc.

Your relationship with miles is pretty hidden, terrible cities birth terrible people and having people know you were queer was not a good idea. You love Miles but he can be a lot at times, he spends time with you one day and completely ignores you for the next three weeks.

It was irritating but you stayed quiet, you wanted to give him some space since his dad died. But you can’t help but worry about him, especially about this job he and his uncle Aaron go to. What kind of job is he doing that pays him six thousand dollars worth of money? You know it’s not anything good with how you mostly see him scruffed up, but alas you didn’t say anything.

You would ask if you two could go on dates but you would get hit with-

“Sorry querido, not now”

“Can’t today mi amor, maybe another time”

“I’m sorry babes, can’t tonight”

After this kept happening you began to get more hurt and mad at this, you tried to be mature and understanding but it was getting harder…Today was the last straw. You have been texting and calling Miles everying few days and he hasn’t been answering. You couldn’t do this anymore, did he even love you? Of course he did…did he? You didn’t want these questions in your head but they kept circling and hurting you the more they circled.

You stopped, you just stopped, you stopped calling him, you stopped texting, and you stopped leaving voicemails. F*ck him, so what if he doesn’t want to see you? You don’t care, you never cared.

You were laying down in your bed, with some tears streaming down your face.

I hate him, you thought, but you didn’t hate him. You still love him, you just don’t want to admit it. It was 9:30 and you’ve been trying to go to sleep since 9, obviously sleep wasn’t being your friend and allowed you to be tormented by your thoughts.

Tap Tap Tap

It can’t be, you thought

Tap Tap Tap

It couldn’t be, you thought

You turn around and see your boyfriend Miles, looking as tired and stoic as ever, waving to you and gesturing to you to open the window. You look at him for a moment and think about how he has the audacity to show up at your window, you noticed he had a bloody nose and some scraps along his face. Not being a jerk, you allow him in and get the first aid kit from your dresser.

“Hola Príncipe”

That word, that lovely word that he always calls you when you're together. That lovely word he teases and praises you with, or used to anyway. Instead of sitting on your bed like he usually does, you had him sit in your desk chair. You weren’t ready to have him be comfortable when you weren’t.

“Don’t call me that” is all you said

15 minutes went by as you (roughly) cleaned his injuries. Miles took notice and decided to speak on it.

“Why are you so quiet babes?”

You didn’t answer, you just cleaned his wounds, getting rougher as he spoke.

“Ow! y/n!” he tightly grabbed your wrist, causing you to yank it back from him.

“Can’t you just stop talkin’? That’s what you're good at ain't you? Not talkin’?” you snap, earning a confused face from Miles.

“You ignore me for WEEKS on end and then all of a sudden you show up to my window and start talkin to me? Are you for real miles?”

You aren’t prone to snapping, you never have. It just wasn’t in your nature to do things like that, sure you got mad, but never snapped.

“Príncipe I-”

“NO MILES’ of all people YOU don’t get to talk, for the past three years I’ve been trying so hard to make you happy. To make sure you’re loved and cared for man” You say, hot tears falling down your face.

“All I tried to do is love you Miles, why can’t you do the same for me huh? Why is it so hard Miles? TELL ME, TELL ME WHY IT’S SO HARD TO LOVE ME”

“...y/n please lower your tone and..I can’t tell you”

“LOWER MY TONE? MILES YOU HURT ME! LOOK AT MY FACE MILES, LOOK AT WHAT YOU-....Just get out Miles, please” you give up, if you don’t stop yelling the neighbors will hear and tell your parents what they heard. People are nosey like that. You flop down on your bed and face away from him in a fetal position.

“Just get out” you say as you choke out a sob

Miles sits there completely shocked but not surprised at the reaction. He’s shocked at how loud you got but not how you reacted. He planned on coming by and talking to you, but he just couldn’t get the words out…not like you let him either.

Miles stood up from the chair and walked over to you

“Príncipe, look at me” he said softly, putting his hand on your shoulder

“GET TF OUT MILES” you yell at him, slapping his hand away.

Miles takes it upon his safe to literally turn you around to the point where your legs are hanging over the bed but you're still laying down.

“WHAT THE F*CK! MILES LET ME GO!” you scream, trying to fight him off. But here’s the thing, Miles works out a lot more than you do…so you're losing this fight. Mile’s takes one of his hands and pins both of your arms down and covers your mouth with the other hand.

“Listen, I’m sorry for ignoring you, I am but I’m only trying to protect you!” he tells you, you are still struggling under his grasp.

“Y/n…stop, you know you aren’t going to win this” he blankly says

You stop wiggling after a minute or so, you're tired and you really don’t want to deal with this any more. He lifts his hand from your mouth and lets you go, he knows that you look like you're tired or tuckered out. Your highschool gym class is a perfect example of that.

“Please Miles, just leave me alone” you silently beg as you cry

“I can’t leave knowing you hate me amor, I love you- ”

“No you don’t miles, please just go away please-”

Miles pulls you closer to him and passionately kisses you, you didn’t mean to but you instantly melted into the kiss, wrapping your arms around him. He wraps his arms around your waist pulling you in, as if you couldn’t be any closer. His lips were soft and warm, and so was his lanky but muscular body. He moved his hand up to your face, cupping your cheek and wiping away the remaining tears.

Because you both have to live, you both pull away and breathe.

“I’m sorry Príncipe, I really am but please give me another chance! Please” He began kissing your face all over, making you slightly giggle but not much. You're still very much still upset.

“Please love me again mi amor, please” Miles begged as he cupped your face so gently as if you were glass.

“...I never stopped loving you Miles, but your hurting me”

“How do you expect me to react?”

Miles saw the heartbreak in your eyes, it was tearing him apart inside and he hated it.

“I promise I’ll make time for you colibrí, I promise” he told you, kissing your lips again.

“Can you make time for me now? My parents don’t come back home till 12”

“I-” Before he can say anything, his phone buzzes. You instantly panic and cling to him

“NO No no please Miles stay here, PLEASE miles…please” you pleaded as he reached for his phone.

“ I have to see if it’s my mama at least y/n”

“Please don’t leave me…” you whisper as a tear runs down your cheek

Those last words shattered Miles…but he had to check. He opened his phone and saw a text message from his mama, the text said that she’ll be working late. A small smile escaped Miles’ mouth.

“I’m not going anywhere mi amor, mi mamas working late” he said as he cuddled you

You looked like you just won the lottery by the way you were smiling. You pull Miles into a passionate kiss. You could feel Miles smiling through the kiss as he melted into it. After a moment passed you both pulled away for air.

“I see you got your hair braided” Miles said, touching a braid in on your head with his thumb.

“I was hoping you would notice; I like matching with you” you muttered, blushing a bit.

“How about I take you somewhere papi? My treat!” He said with a smile

“Miles…I just want to be here with you”

“Ok then, take out?” he asked with an eyebrow up

“ My mom left some food for me, and I’m ok with sharing”

So you and Miles made up over the night. You played video games, watched movies, and just cuddled through the evening. Near 11:30-ish you got tired and Miles took notice of it. You two were cuddled in bed and you were slowly and quickly drifting off to sleep. He smiled and kissed your temple.

You looked so peaceful when you were sleeping. You truly didn’t know how Miles felt about you, to him you were his light in the darkness of the new york city. You, his uncle, and Rio are the only people that are keeping him going these past 3 years. He couldn't be more appreciative of you, no matter how bad things got you still tried to make him smile. You still tried to make him laugh. You still tried to make him happy, He loved you more than life itself for that.

You were fully asleep at this point but with a smile on your face. You held Miles tightly, because even in your sleep, you felt as if Miles was going to disappear.

“I don’t deserve you y/n…but I’m gonna try to make you happy”

It was 11:49 and Miles knew he had to go, so he slowly crept out of your bed and made sure to tuck you in. After that he turned off the movie and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Once that was all done, he went back into your room. Seeing your beautiful brown skin being highlighted with the purple city lights made his heart strongly flutter.

You were the most gorgeous boy he ever laid eyes on, and from now on he would try to make you happy and feel appreciated. He walked over to your bed and kissed your four head,

“Goodnight Príncipe, I will make everything better for you. Starting tomorrow”

Your night was filled with beautiful dreams of you and miles as the night went on. When you woke up there was a note under your pillow. You only noticed because there was a necklace slightly hidden under it. The necklace was half a heart with what seemed to be your first name initial.

When you took the necklace from under the pillow a note was attached to it, you opened it and read;

Good morning mi amor, I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend so I plan on making it up to you later today. Meet on the roof of your apartment building at eight pm sharp, I’ll have a few surprises for you up there.

Your lover, Miles

You smiled to yourself and held the necklace close to your chest, or to be more frank, your heart.

God he makes me act like such a girl

It was 7:58 and you were dressed in some new clothes you bought with some of Miles’ money. That he left by your closet before he left. They were black jordan air’s with purple laces and purple tones. You had a black jacket with purple pants and shirt, and to make it even better you wore some tres leches perfume because Tres leches is Miles’ favorite dessert.

You also had on some black gloves with the fingers cut off, you were going for a more punk aesthetic if you couldn’t tell. After you exploded at Miles the other night you wanted to wear his favorite colors and scents as a sorry. Even though you had nothing to be sorry about.

Now at 7:59 you walk up the firescape steps to see your boyfriend. A part of you was saying he wasn’t there and that you were doing this for nothing but you pushed those thoughts away. And now at the top of the roof, you see Miles’ sitting there on a red checkerboard blanket with food and gifts on top of it. Your favorite song, hummingbird, was softly coming out of the radio next to him. Not to mention he was wearing your favorite color(s).

Miles looks up at you and smiles, then he gets up and hugs you. Fully relaxing as you embrace him…and because of the tres leches perfume. He sniffs the crook of your neck, causing you to giggle.

“You smell good” he chuckles and sniffs you more

“I know you like tres leches so I did a little something for ya, ya know” you say in between giggles.

“Ok miles stop please-AGH!” Without warning, Miles picks you up bridal style and sits you on the picnic blanket and sits down next to you.

The air was nice, the evening sun made the sky full of orange, yellow, and soft purple colors. You noticed how the colors compliment Miles’ features a lot. You were trying so hard not to smile…but you were falling.

“Whatchu smilin ‘bout colibrí” Miles smirks, knowing full well why you were smiling.

“Can’t I just smile bro? Dang!” you chuckle, scratching the back of your neck trying to look away.

Miles gets closer to you, grabs your chin, and softly forces you to look at him. This causes you to smile even more and try to cover your face but Miles wasn’t having it. He got on his knees and kissed you. Once again, you melted into him and smiled as you did.

Once you pulled away you cupped his face, staring into his beautiful hazel eyes. And he, staring into your beautiful e/c eyes.

“Hey Miles’ I uh, I’m sorry for blowing up last night I should’ve -” Miles put his finger on your lips

“I’m gonna need you to hush for a moment, you have nothing to be sorry for. If anybody should be apologizing’ it should be me” He said sternly, never leaving your gaze.

“I f*cked up as your boyfriend…and I’m really sorry for that colibrí. I’ll try my best to make sure you know I love you and..and all that. I love you more than anything y/n. I will move universes, I’ll kill for you…I will take a bullet for you in a heartbeat” he says, putting his forehead on yours.

“ I will always protect you my príncipe, with my life”

Tears were forming in your eyes, you knew Miles loved you but you never really knew what he was thinking and this…this is how he felt about you? This day couldn’t be anymore perfect.

“You are the light of my life y/n. Always will be”

You tightly hug Miles as you cry, he notices as you sniffle into his shoulder,

“Colibrí?”

“I love you too Miles. I love you so much.”

Translation

príncipe: prince

colibrí: hummingbird

#prowler!miles #prowler miles #miles morales prowler #au #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales x reader #x black male reader #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse

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zillypawz · 1 month

Text

Confrontation

PAIRING : Alastor x qpp!gn!reader

NOTES : spreading the aromantic agenda with my silly little queer-platonic partner reader!! :3 ALSO !! I based the relationship between them with my own aroace experiences. I personally still say “I love you” whenever im in a qpr because I still love them, just in different way yknow?? Just a heads up that any form of love portrayed in this fic isn’t romantic in nature :)

CONTENT : angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending, gender neutral reader, aroace!alastor

[Name] walked up to the door of the infamous “Hazbin Hotel”, a sour expression on their face as they knocked on the large door. A happy face poked through, her face lighting up at the appearance of a person as she swung the door open excitedly. “Hi! I’m Charlie, are you here to-”

“No, sorry, I’m not here for your hotel,” [Name] said, looking at Charlie for a moment before looking over her shoulder. “Is Alastor here?” They asked, looking at Charlie as they spoke in a rushed manor. Their hands clenched into fists and unclenched repeatedly as they waited impatiently for the princess to respond. “Oh! That’s fine, I guess, but-”

“How may I be of service!”

Charlie frowned at being interrupted again but stood out the way while her grip fell from the doorknob. Alastor stood behind Charlie, a wide smile as he looked at the person who called his name.

“Oh, [Name]. Hello again,” the Radio Demon said as his posture visibly straightened upon seeing them. His smile looked strained as his gaze remained on [Name]. The tension grew thick as the pair of partners looked at each other, unspoken words pouring like a fountain into the air between them. [Name]’s jaw clenched as they raised their hands and shoved Alastor. Charlie’s eyes grew wide and was about to intervene before the stranger began pointing a finger and yelling at Alastor, who stumbled backwards and held onto his staff to keep his balance.

“You absolute asshole! You left for seven years! You leave me for seven fucking years, and you reappear at some crappy rehabilitation hotel without telling me?!” [Name] complained harshly, stepping toward Alastor and shoving a finger in his chest as they stared him down. Their gaze was filled with anger, hurt and disbelief. Their eyes held tears that they refused to shed, noting the slight satisfaction in Alastor’s gaze. “I can’t believe you! You absolute douche!” [Name] spat, which Alastor responded with by gripping their wrist and pulling it away slightly. Alastor stared them down, laughing sourly as he glanced over at Charlie. She closed the door, awkwardly glancing between the pair as she debated whether to intervene or not.

“Now, now, my dear! Let’s be civilised, there are people watching,” Alastor spoke calmly, though the threat in his voice was no secret. He looked [Name] up and down, almost drinking in the fact they really were there and that he wasn’t dreaming of their existence. “Don’t give me that bullshit!” [Name] growled, pulling their hand out of Alastor’s grip as they spoke with a dangerous tone.

“Al, what’s going on?” Charlie asked, an awkward smile on her face as she stood next to Alastor. She looked over at [Name] and then at Alastor, concern flooding her eyes. Something was very clearly wrong, and Charlie being the sweetheart she was felt the need to try and fix it. Alastor turned to Charlie sharply, his everlasting smile growing wider than usual. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Charlie! If you will?” Alastor tilted his head off to the side, silently asking Charlie to leave the two alone in the entrance of the hotel. Charlie looked between them one last time before nodding slowly, walking away before quickly speeding up as she ran to talk to Vaggie about the strange encounter.

Alastor turned back to [Name] after Charlie left with furrowed eyebrows and a mildly frustrated look despite the smile.

“Where were you?” [Name] questioned, raising a brow while straightening their posture to match Alastor.

“I’m afraid I cannot tell you that, my dear-”

“Right, of course you can’t. You never could, could you?”

“[Name]-”

“No, Alastor!” [Name] yelled out, their hands clenched into fists tightly until the knuckles of their hands turned pale. Their breath was heavy as they panted, almost out of breath from the travel over and the yelling. “You can’t disappear without a word and just show up like nothing happened! Were you even- were you even going to tell me you were back?” [Name] continued, their harsh voice going softer toward the end of their sentence as they felt their hurt bubbling up. Alastor remained quiet, his gaze on [Name] never changing until they glared at him. He cleared his throat, his grip on his staff tightening.

“I won’t say it was exactly a plan of mine to tell you, no,” Alastor replied, staring at the hurt expression on [Name]’s face. Half of him enjoyed seeing the pain and suffering he seemingly put [Name] through, but the other half felt guilty. He felt guilty for feeling such satisfaction out of their misery, and felt guilty for having put them through that misery in the first place. “You must forgive me, my darling [Name]. I understand that this must all be troubling news for you, but please do note that this has nothing to do with you.”

“Do you really understand, though? How it feels to have your partner disappear from your hands for seven years without the acknowledgment of if they were even alive?” [Name] questioned, their tense shoulders falling as they looked at Alastor. Their gaze scanned every inch of Alastor as if they were searching for a sign of injury. Despite their anger and hurt, they still cared for his well-being. They felt relieved when they noticed no injury, before looking back in his eyes with a cold gaze.

“[Name], I promise if I could tell you where I was or that I was even leaving; I would’ve told you in a heartbeat. My love, I didn’t want you to be roped into another one of my messes,” Alastor spoke sweetly, raising a hand from his staff to hold [Name]’s face. His expression and voice was altered to seem sweet, but [Name] knew him all too well. Alastor simply wished to not cause a scene in front of the hotel staff if any of them waltzed even near them. And though there was a hint of truth to his words, it wasn’t all true. Resisting the urge to melt into Alastor’s touch, they took a step back as their eyes brimmed with tears once more. “Stop that, Alastor.”

“What do you mean, my dear?”

“Stop- stop acting like you didn’t expect this to happen eventually.”

Alastor’s hand hovered over the spot [Name] removed themself from before it slowly returned to his staff. He knew that the minute he returned, they would find out and confront him. He’s known for the last seven years. He gave out a reluctant sigh, clicking his tongue as he smiled. He knew it was time to face the consequences of his actions, he prepared for this. He was ready for them to take their leave. To leave him as he did them, except this time taking away the only connection they had to each other.

“I’ve never been great at telling the full truth, but dear, I do promise that if I could then I would tell you why I left,” Alastor said quietly, having the slightest hope that he could keep them tied to him. He really did love them, and sure their love was odd to most, he cared for them in a way he never cared for anyone before. It hurt him to leave, knowing he would be hurting his partner for something so selfish.

“I’m mad at you, and dear Satan do I hate what you’ve done, but I’m not leaving you.”

For once in his life, Alastor felt speechless from his surprise. They weren’t leaving? He looked at [Name], searching for a sign that they were lying. And though he saw their anger and hurt present, he saw no sign of a lie. They bit the inside of their cheek as they raised the hand and pinched their temple.

“I don’t forgive you, Alastor. But I trust you, and I love you. You are my friend and my partner and I am putting some faith in you that you do truly have a good reason for leaving for so long. And that you will tell me when you can,” [Name] spoke slowly, carefully picking out their words as they looked up at Alastor. They knew Alastor got into deals often and that sometimes they ended horribly, so they assumed that it was connected to that. Alastor’s expression softened as he reached his hand out to hold [Name]’s cheek. He analysed their face, gently stroking his thumb over their cheek as he gazed at them with a sense of gratitude.

“I missed you, mon amour,” Alastor said softly, bringing his forehead to theirs and pressed them together gently. Alastor closed his eyes and breathed softly, enjoying feeling them being near him again. “So, so much. I promise I’ll make up the years I missed with you till the end of this afterlife and the next,” Alastor added on quietly, feeling them lean into his warm touch.

“I missed you, too, lovely,” [Name] sighed, raising their hand to hover over the hand that held their face before raising their other hand and holding Alastor’s face in their hand.

They remained peacefully in each other presence, fearful that if they let each other away from their grasp the other would part from them in the blink of an eye. Charlie watched from around a corner, tearful but also overjoyed for Alastor while Vaggie watched carefully, not fully trusting the whole ordeal in the slightest.

#Spotify #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #asexual alastor #aromantic alastor #aroace alastor #x reader #fanfic #x yn #angst #fluff

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