#back to queuing stuff (me saying this but only queuing one thing) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cameronslilypad · 11 days

Text

find me through my dealer - part two

summary: you and rafe have been in the same friend group for a while now, so you could be considered close, when he finds out you have a dealer who isn't him he demands you cut them off and use him instead. you both work out an arrangement you get 'discounts' and in return do him 'favors' (but are they really favors if the both of you enjoy it a little too much?) because that's what friends are for right? friends?

part one

you wake up squashed between two bodies, with no room to move. the first few things you notice is the ringing in your ears, your pounding headache and arms laid loosely around you. you wait a few moments before giving in and slowly squinting your eyes open. you’re met with rafe, still fast asleep snoring softly, you slowly and carefully get up and the arms that were once around you drop onto the mattress with a soft thud. you turn your head seeing the arms belonged to becca and next to her was topper.

what the fuck. you laugh quietly to yourself at the fact all four of you have managed to end up cuddled together in rafes bed.

you slide to the end of the bed and leave the room, trying to be quiet but inevitably failing, and head downstairs to get some painkillers. as you’re sitting at rafes kitchen island, drinking some water, you realize your bag is laying on the floor. checking your phone the numbers 2:47 stare back at you.

how the fuck. you realize you need to go home, you feel disgusting and just want to relax in a bed that isn’t occupying three other people. you decide to be cute and leave them a note as you notice a notepad on the island.

morning sunshines! i went home because i felt gross, left painkillers on the island. love ya.

you go back into rafes room and decide to leave the note on rafes head. putting back on your heals, jacket and making sure everything’s in your bag. you leave for your 5 minute walk home.

hours have passed. becca had called you saying she was home and talking about lasnt night, which you only remember aspects of. you’ve had a nice long shower, done a facemask and are feeling a lot better. you’re parents aren’t home, as usual, they never are which is fine by you, it can get a bit lonely sometimes but you like your own space, and it allows you to do whatever you want. right now all you wanna do is smoke, watch some of your favorite show and use your vibrator. so you take your little tin that holds all of your smoke stuff downstairs and open it onto the table in front of the couch you’re now sat on.

you’re fucking joking. now the good news is you don’t have no weed but you don’t have nearly enough, one small nugget.

you: hey rafe u busy? need some weed asappp!

you swear this man better be able to give you some after telling you he has to be your only dealer. as you’re going on this hypothetical rant your phone lights up.

rafe: already lol how much u want

you: 3.5

rafe: im omw to urs

absolutely perfect. as you wait you decide to play some music, softly so it’s in the background, on the tv just as you finish queuing some songs there’s a knock on the door.

“hi, come in” you tell rafe standing to the side of the door so he can walk past you. he settles on the couch and pulls out a little baggie filled with weed. you take it from his hands and sit next to him.

“thank you. how much do i owe you?” you ask him settling next to him and already starting to grind some of the weed up.

“don’t worry about it” he replies looking at you with a little smirk.

“funny. but seriously how much” you reply just wanting a price so you can get the cash.

“i’m serious it’s on me” you didn’t really know how to feel about that, free weed is free weed so it’s great but it’s sort of like you owe him now.

“oh thank you. you got plans? wanna smoke some with me?” the offer was the least you could do after getting it for free

“yeah course” you smile at him, getting a cone out of your tin and just as you’re about to poke some of the weed in it a loud laughter interrupts you.

“what are you doing!” rafe can barely get the words out due to his laugh.

“what do you mean?” you ask a bit softer, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious. rafe points at the cone. ooooh.

“i can’t roll, so i use cones” you tell him, to which he looks dumbfounded.

“you smoke most days and you can’t even roll” you nod your head, it’s not the first time someone’s said something like this to you.

“i’ve never really had to, cones exist or i can get someone else to roll for me” it’s true, you had tried to learn how to roll. it was too stressful.

“i’m gonna have to teach you. but not today, ill just roll” rafe tells you with a slight teasing tone, pulling some papers out of his pocket. you watch him as he rolls, it takes him no time at all, and he passes the joint to you. you light it and take a few puffs and flick some ash into the ashtray that’s on the table, before passing it to rafe.

“i’m going to get some water, want any?” you ask him, standing from the couch.

“na i’m good thanks” his voice is a bit hoarse because of the weed and it brings back that fluttery feeling you had the night before.

shit, this isn’t good. you shouldn’t be feeling this way. you think as you get a water bottle ,from your fridge, taking a massive gulp to try and push this feeling down once again. you stand there for a few seconds and take a couple deep breaths before returning to sit next to rafe.

“i’m rolling you some more so you don’t need to worry about that cone shit for a bit” he says, as he finishes rolling a second joint. you realize he’d left the current joint you we’re smoking in the ashtray, you pick it up and take a few hits after making sure it was still lit.

“awwww how nice of you” you ruffle his hair, this wasn’t abnormal but for some reason the moment felt a bit more intimate than usual. rafes only response was a roll of his eyes but he has a smile on his face as he redirects his focus back on rolling your weed.

it’s silent between you, passing the joint back and forth, the music in the background making things not awkward at all. you stub the joint out and pick another up from the table. rafe had just stopped rolling, putting his papers back in his pocket. he’d rolled another five your you. you light the second one and just look at him, his eyes are focused on the tv playing some random music video. you’re not sure weather it’s the weed, or watching his hands and tongue while he was rolling or the cute little gesture. it could’ve been the fact that you felt the need to repay him for the weed or that you were waiting to use your vibrator and was already horny. or all of that could just be excuses for what your about to do as it would make it less embarrassing if it backfires.

just go for it, you’re going to do it anyways act confident to not make it awkward. you sit up and swing one of your legs over rafes lap straddling him.

“what’re you doing?” he asks, teasing tone prominent, a massive smirk plastered on his face and slowly reaching his arms around your waist.

“hmm nothing” you smile, feeling a bit dazed from the weed, you hold the joint to his lips. he takes a strong pull and tilts his head up the blow the smoke out, his adams apple bobbing up then down.

fuck.

“come here and open your mouth” he says taking the joint and having a pull. he then removes his arm from your waist and places his hand behind your head, pushing it towards his own until your noses touch. his thumb on the hand that’s still holding the joint brushes your lips, so you comply and open your mouth. he takes a sharp inhale of the smoke that was sat in his mouth and blows it into yours.

hot. you wrap your arms around his neck and he goes back and forth between taking a puff of the joint and holding the joint up to your lips, just looking at each other. it takes little to no time to finish this joint so you take the roach and lean back to put it in the ashtray. rafe quickly leans forward wrapping his arms tightly around you.

“i wasn’t going to fall” you giggle, leaning back up and pushing rafe back to his original position rolling your hips a little. he lets out a soft groan and leans into kiss you. it’s sloppy and a bit rushed, you place your hands up his shirt to trace his abs as his hands rub up and down your sides. he starts kissing down your neck, hands resting on your ass as he sucked on the spot under your ear making you throw your head back and letting out a half moan half gasp. you cant wait any longer so you slide your hands down from his toned stomach to his belt and start to attempt to unbuckle it.

“wait” rafe quickly grabbed your hands. your eyebrows furrow. well fuck, it did backfire, what an idiot. he takes one hand off of your wrist and uses his thumb the smoothen the wrinkles that had just appeared on your forehead, his other hand brings your wrist up to his mouth.

“are you sure about this?” he asks looking up at you, his eyes hooded. its an effect of the weed but if anything you think it makes him look even better.

“fuck rafe” you breathe out a laugh “you scared the shit out of me” you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“silly girl” he tuts, knowing exactly what you meant without you needing to day it “i just need to make sure you want me as much as i want you” his big hands cup your face and bring it out of the gap between his shoulder and face, so you’re looking him directly in the eye.

“and trust me i want you bad” his words make you feel giddy, you turn your head to kiss his right palm then follow suit to his left palm.

“i guess you could say i want you a little” you shrug, letting out a small squeal as rafe manhandles you so your back is laid on the couch and he’s laid on his front, head laid on your upper thigh.

“a little hm? let’s see if you’ll still be saying that after i’m done with you” he sends you a wink massaging up your other thigh making his way up to the waistband of your sweats.

“lift your hips up for me baby” you comply, his lust struck tone of voice, and the pet name he’s used makes you believe you’d comply with anything he asked of you in that moment. he lifts his head up and pulls both your sweats and underwear down and completely off your body. you bring rafe down for a kiss by the back of his head, the buzz he’d recently got feeling soft on your fingertips. you bite his bottom lip and tug on his shirt but it seems he didn’t get the hint.

“cmon rafe take it off” you whine as he chases your lips again, unhappy that you broke the kiss to talk. he shoves his tongue back into your mouth and works his shirt up his body so his arms aren’t in it anymore and its hanging around his neck. he disconnects his lips from yours begrudgingly, throwing his shirt off and sitting you up slightly to make quick work of your own shirt. he fumbles very slightly with the hook of your bra before throwing it to the side in a hurry so he can get his hands on your tits, his lower lip is drawn into his mouth as he circles around your nipples. he takes the left one into his mouth letting out a long sigh, in return you let out a quiet mewl, throwing your head back and bucking your hips up. rafe shows the same amount of attention to your right boob before leaning down to your ear.

“lay back again for me” his husky voice mixed with the soft bite he leaves to your earlobe makes you shudder and comply straight away. rafes head ducks down to your thighs, leaving feather light kisses on either side, completely neglecting the place that is aching for him.

“rafe come onnn, stop being a tease” you beg him, you need him to touch you right now

“m sorry” he breathes out, placing the softest kiss to your clit “you’re just too pretty” he admits, the weed and your arousal making him soft and genuine, admitting things he probably wouldn’t admit otherwise, unless it was portrayed by him as a teasing, joking comment. and you’re loving this little side of rafe you’re seeing. his fingers finally touch where you’ve been waiting for, spreading your lips and slowly pushing one finger into you and slowly pumping it in and out before adding a second finger and slightly scissoring them, making your toes curl and breathless moan exit your mouth. you hold the back of his head and push him into you, he understands and flicks his tongue against your clit, the pace of his fingers quickening. you can feel the tension in your stomach getting stronger.

“fuck rafe, just like that” you moan out to him, feeling your self clench around his fingers and you’re about to cum. when the sensation completely stops.

“what the fuck” you whine pushing rafes chest as he comes up to kiss you, you turn your head in protest. he puts the fingers ,that were just in you, into his mouth.

“you taste so fucking good, but i want you to cum on my dick for our first time” he groans into your ear, tracing your jaw before grabbing it softly so you’re facing him.

first time? so its happening again. that’s fine with you.

you take his thumb into your mouth and wrap your legs around his waist, his dick fitting snug between your fold, making him look at you with dark, wide blown pupils. this is the first time your getting a proper look at it, its pretty, a mushroom tip and a few prominent veins running down to the base and a little pre cum dribbling out of the slit. you rotate your hips and take your thumb to his slit swiping some of his pre cum and licking it off your thumb.

“oh fuck” he shudders in a groan thrusting his hips so his tip hits your clit, making you gasp and realize your getting impatient you move your hips back to line his tip up with your entrance as best as you could. rafe takes control and grips the base of his dick slowly pushing it into you. you both throw your heads back and let out a strangled noise, almost simultaneously.

“you okay?” he asks brushing your hair away from your face as he bottoms out. you nod and thrust your hips up with a little whine.

“use your words baby, how you feelin’?” he starts moving, a slow and hard pace.

“good, so good. but go faster please” your words come out breathless and there are little halts in your sentence due to the force of his thrusts. he complies, which starts making him hit your g spot.

“oh my god” you squeal a little, overcome with pleasure. you grab onto his biceps to stable yourself. rafe leans down, putting his hand around your neck bringing you into a bruising kiss which makes you gush and tighten around his cock.

“knew you’d fucking love my hand here, squeezing my cock so good, you’re so good” his cockiness fizzling out as he rambles praise at you. you’re so close and your impulses take over you as you start to fuck him back

“shit baby i’m right there, tell me you’re there with me” he moans out as he starts to rub soft circles on your clit, trying to get you to cum before him.

“m there, cum with me” you say completely fucked out, pushing his lips into yours. after a few more sloppy thrusts and kisses you reach your orgasm, having to break the kiss as you let out a deep pornographic moan, basking the bliss of this feeling.

“shit, yes” rafes voice is so raspy and in that moment you don’t think you’ve ever found someone more attractive. he rides out the both of your orgasms with a few more thrusts before slowly pulling out, his cum dribbling slowly out of you.

“fuck, so pretty” he murmurs, almost massaging his cum on your clit. it almost seems as if he’s talking to your pussy rather than you.

“rafe i’m sensitive” you tell him softly, hips jerking at his actions. his reply is leaving a soft peck to your jaw.

“can you pass me my clothes?” you ask rafe as he gets up to put his boxers on. he gathers your clothes and to your surprise starts helping you get re dressed. he starts with pulling your underwear up your legs.

“hips” he mutters softly tapping them, you lift them and he pulls your panties in place, leaving a small kiss the the bow that decorates the front. following with your sweats. when it gets to your bra, you sit up and shake your head, you want to be comfortable, to this he wiggles his eyebrows up and down making you involuntary roll your eyes with a stupid smile on your face. you lift your arms up so your shirt can be put back over your body. rafe gets up and finishes dressing himself.

“i’m gonna head out, i’ll see you later” walking over to the couch giving you a weird sort of side hug.

“okay see you” he walks off, softly shutting the door behind him. your focus switches to the four joints that were left on the table, forgotten about a while ago. you change the tv from the music that was playing to your favorite show. as you light and take your first puff of your joint, it then starts to dawn on you.

what the fuck just happened?

part three

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #obx x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #obx fic #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe outer banks

230 notes · View notes

copperbadge · 5 months

Note

What do you mean by digital cleaning?

It's something I've been working on more this year because I had a bit more travel than usual so couldn't do actual home cleaning, but I always take a couple of days in the Month Of Cleaning where I'm focused on my digital life. It's good to make your physical home a comfortable place for yourself, but it's also good to recognize that we have "digital" homes that need attention. And often this is at least less physically demanding, so it's good to keep it in your back pocket for days when you're mentally okay but physically too tired or sore to do more of that kind of work.

In the shortest possible terms, digital cleaning is just making sure that your phone, computer, socials, and other digital "presences" are organized in a way that you find helpful, and that you take a moment to either answer those messages you've been putting off or give yourself amnesty on doing so.

This tends to make a lot of people extremely anxious in a way ordinary physical space cleaning doesn't, so I'm going to put the rest of it behind a cut...

So when I say digital cleaning, I refer to stuff like going through my likes on Tumblr and clearing them out, going through my drafts and turning them into queued posts, answering my asks. I spend time in my email inboxes, either responding to messages or removing them. I am not an "inbox zero" kind of guy, but I like to keep the read-but-not-answered messages to a minimum, and towards the end of the year that usually means a clear-out and amnesty. I clean my Google Drive -- delete old files I uploaded for others, move documents I'm no longer using into an archive, move documents I want to work on into a central work folder. I go through my catch-all folder on my hard drive and organize it; I sort through the year's photos and organize those, partly to archive them and partly because I make a scrapbook from them each year. I don't usually have a ton of tabs open but often have more than I'd like, so I go through them all and either read, bookmark, or get rid of them.

I look in my phone's file tree to make sure I delete files I don't need (mostly menu downloads, Restaurants Stop Making Your Menus PDFs Challenge 2K24) and I sometimes go through each app on my phone, make sure I still use it, and make sure it's set how I want it. If this sounds like a nightmare, bear in mind that I very rarely put apps on my phone to start with -- I think my mother has more apps open at any given time than I have apps on my phone ever.

Everywhere I clean, I look for files named things like "notes" or "deal with" or "random" and move them all into one place so that whatever is in them, I can sort through it and make sure it goes somewhere permanent. Logins go in the login/password spreadsheet I keep, addresses go into my contacts, story notes go into a "fiction scraps" file, random thoughts either get moved into a journal file or put into drafts to become Tumblr posts, etc.

If this sounds like I might have some kind of compulsion disorder, I get that; when I explain my digital hygiene systems a lot of people look at me like I'm spouting a mad but harmless conspiracy theory. But it's something I used to have to do periodically even before I created National Clean Your Home Month, because otherwise I could never find anything, and everything was just...harder. As I once told a boss who admired my organizational skills, "It was this or endless chaos."

Putting addresses into my contacts list means I always know that the addresses I have for my friends are up to date. Putting logins into a spreadsheet means that five minutes spent now will not result in five weeks of procrastination later because I can't find the login and can't do anything else until I do that. Going through my email and archiving old conversations means not only can I find them easily when needed, I don't have to look at them the rest of the time. Sometimes I even go through my various wish lists and remove old/purchased items, or clear out all my "save for later" carts.

There's no doubt this is stressful, but like every part of NaClYoHo, it's broken down into smaller tasks; I don't have to look at my computer and organize everything on it all in one day. I can answer a few asks, then sort photos (something I find very soothing up until the moment I Don't), then read and delete some emails, then I'm done for the day. I can spread "answer or file all your work emails" out over a couple of days. I can maybe empty out my Likes but just turn the ones I actually want to reblog into drafts for now and deal with them later in the "drafts" phase of cleaning. And if I don't manage to empty out my inboxes, at least they're emptier than they were.

I'm struggling this morning with having put a bunch of physical cleaning on the to-do list but not feeling physically up for it, so I did what I felt capable of doing (measuring cabinets for new shelf liners mainly) and later today I might sit down and start building this year's photobook. Or not -- I have to code Radio Free Monday, sort out a prescription and possibly go pick it up, plus a very full day of work and a couple of afternoon appointments I can't shirk, so today may simply be a "get through the day" kind of day. That's okay too; some days the spirit is willing but the schedule is full.

#naclyoho #national clean your home month #digital cleaning

156 notes · View notes

deathbecomesthem · 1 month

Text

Crawling to the Finish | Part 2 | 5K

Eddie Munson x Fem!Disabled!Reader

*This is a completed series that is queued and will be released on the dates below. This Masterlist will be updated with each part that is released.

+18 ONLY | MDNI

Warnings: There will be lots of descriptions of medical stuff. The reader is physically disabled due to an undefined accident. Major bone trauma. Lots of talk about pain. Later parts are going to have smut, because disabled people have sex like everyone else. *This part describes disordered eating due to pain.*

Summary: You have to go back to school while still recovering from surgery. Principal Higgins is determined to make you as comfortable as possible, so he assigns someone to help you get around.

A/N: The physical disability described in this series are my own. The experiences are very close to what my own. Be kind.

---

You were drifting through life, the unsteady ocean of the things out of your control set your course. It was something you’ve learned how to deal with. Take things as they come, adjust, go with the flow, let the waves move you how they wanted. But, when the pain is bad, it sets your teeth on edge, and you hate being that person. Mean. Angry. Bitter. It’s not who you are, but it’s how you are right now. You were just waiting. Because, despite the hope in your mother’s eyes, you knew that this last surgery would do nothing to fix you. It was just something to add to the chart so Dr. Greene could say he had tried it all before giving an 18 year a total hip replacement. They don’t last forever, and then he’ll have to deal with a patient needing revision at a too young age.

The bright spot these days comes in the form of a group of nerdy boys. Every day, you sit with them at lunch. It’s your safe spot. No one bothers you, you can just sit and be quiet without feeling like you need to do anything. The boys never say anything about how little you eat. Dustin occasionally looks at you with knowing eyes, and he’s always quick to offer up anything you might like as a treat. Food is hard most days, everything turns to cement in your mouth as you chew, and it never sits right in your stomach.

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, the highest points of your days are in the few minutes before each class when you move through the empty halls with Eddie by your side. Your friendship has come about easily. He’s so open to you. He asks questions. He stops talking when you tell him you need quiet without making you feel unkind. He tells you about his band and his club. Then one day, he tells you something that blows you away, because you feel like you were really starting to know him, and you never would have guessed.

“Well, you know, school’s not exactly my strong suit. I’m pretty sure I’m destined to be stuck in this building until I’m old and gray.” You’d been telling him about how determined you were to get your diploma, even if it meant you had to drag your body across the stage to get it. His statement confused you, though.

“What do you mean? You might not graduate?” You’re legitimately confused. “Why not?”

“Oh, Ilene, this is my third senior year.” You’re standing outside of your English class, the bell still 2 minutes away from ringing. These conversations were really one big conversation broken up into little intervals throughout the day. “If I can manage to pass English this time, there’s a chance I’ll be able to walk that stage.” His words hang in the air for a moment while you digest them and try to make sense of them.

You’re annoyed. Almost angry. How the actual fuck – “Eddie, that’s bullshit.” His eyebrows shoot up so high, they’re lost under his fringe. Your tone tells him that you think his excuses are bullshit. “Come on, are you telling me you can’t do that work, because I’m telling you, you’ve got a brain in there.” You tap the side of his head a little harder than was necessary.

“I’m telling you, I’ve managed to fuck it up two years in a row –“ he’s getting a little hot with you, annoyed for being called out, “- and I’m trying, but it’s hard.”

Today’s a better day for you, so you find yourself able to bite back the truly harsh remarks that sometimes spill out of your mouth. You let the silence sit for another moment and think about what it’s been like for him, how he’s been treated by his teachers and how he doesn’t have the kind of support at home that would help him get through a tough time. The bell rings and brings your thoughts back to the Eddie that’s at your side. You look and see his features are a little pained by your words, so you try to make it right before he takes off for his own class.

“Hey, you’re right, I don’t know how it’s been for you.” He’s following behind you while you make your way to your desk, only the two of you in the classroom at the moment. “Why don’t you come over a couple of times a week and we can be study buddies?”

Eddie drops your bookbag at your feet. He takes your hand, as he does multiple times a day to help you get yourself situated at your desk, and holds on to your crutches for you. This routine just sort of happened naturally, but right now it strikes you how comfortable you’ve become with his hands helping you. It’s so unlike you to be so accepting of help.

Before he can take his hand away and leave, you give it a squeeze, drawing his gaze to your face. “I’m serious, I’d like having someone around when I do my homework. It might help us both to just have someone else working next to us.”

A couple of people started making their way through the door, a signal that he has to bust his ass across the building, “I’ll see you in 45 minutes.” There’s a little sink in your stomach, worry at upsetting him, but he gives your own hand a little squeeze before he lets go.

---

Eddie doesn’t bring up your offer for the rest of the day, leaving you feeling a little bit deflated. You pushed too hard, and you regret it. Never once has he done anything to make you feel bad about yourself, and you let your mouth run away the first time he’s a tiny bit vulnerable with you. But, as with everything in life, you let those feelings float on, letting them go.

On the Monday of week 5 post surgery, the pain has ebbed into a constant and familiar ache. You eat enough to keep yourself upright. Your sleep is fragmented, waking frequently to adjust the pillow that rests under your left hip.

Your incision is healed, you’ve always been a quick healer - except for that one joint. The one that keeps you from being a normal teenager. The one that keeps you too thin and gives you dark circles under your eyes.

When you find yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the realm of self-pity, you let yourself remember. Because, this recovery is simple compared to a full body cast, a bed pan, hair washed in the bathroom sink, a baby monitor set next to you at night at the age of 14. This is nothing. And you’re inching closer to the thing you want more than anything. A new lease on life through your next surgery.

Today, though, you’re getting dressed, putting on makeup, and feeling better than you have in a long time. You’re looking forward to seeing your boys. To seeing your Eddie. You try not think about him when you pull out the curling iron and work your hair into a cute half updo. You try not to think about which lip gloss he would prefer as you rummage through the drawers of your vanity. You definitely avoid the thought of him seeing your ass in the form fitting black jeans you feel like you can tolerate rubbing against the still tender scars that run down your outer thigh and lower waist. Nope. Not thinking about that.

Eddie’s leaning against the hood of his van when you pull into the parking lot this morning. He’s been arriving early since last week so he can be there to escort you into the building first thing each day. This morning your stomach leaps into your throat as you watch him flick his cigarette butt into the grass at the edge of the lot. Friday was the first day you’d really noticed how pretty his eyes are, really looked at how full his lips are. It was a revelation you weren’t expecting. As much as you wish you could just push the feelings away, you know it’s not possible. You’ve noticed him, no going back now.

“Excuse me sir, can you point me in the direction of an errand boy to hire for the day? I can’t possibly be expected to carry my own things around all day.” You’ve pulled your car up next to Eddie with your window rolled down. You let your eyes travel up and down his body to assess him with exaggeration, “You might be sufficient. Do you have any references?”

“There’s this one girl, she’s kind of a pain in the ass, but I’m sure she’d be willing to write me a letter of recommendation.” His head is tilted to the side and he’s wearing a grin that shows off his pretty dimples. “What kind of compensation do you offer?”

“The pleasure of my company.” You give him a big smile and a flutter of your lashes before you pull in to the spot next to him. He makes his way to your car, reaching into the back seat for your crutches before offering his hand to help you out.

“Oh, I think I might take that offer, but I have one request.” He’s answering you try to find your balance. Once you’re upright, he reaches across the front seat to grab your bookbag for you. “How do you feel about adding in some study time this week to sweeten the deal?”

You’ve crutched a couple of steps while he closes your car door for you, but you stop after he makes his request to cock your head and squint your eyes. He’s got that fucking smile on his face again.

“Oh, sure. Follow me home tonight, we can do some work at my house, ok?” Eddie nods and you’re both kind of just looking back and forth at each other while you make your way to the big doors that lead into the school.

“You look really pretty today, by the way.” It’s a casual statement that a friend would make to another friend, but you can feel the heat rising up your chest, and your stomach feels like it’s on fire.

You can’t help but do the thing you always do when you feel like you’re in a corner. You joke.

“Stop flirting with me. I know the crutches are irresistible, but you’re gonna have to try to resist.”

And you think he’ll leave it at that. So, you crutch your way down the still quiet hallway, but he just can’t stop himself. A couple of steps behind you, he says just loud enough for you to hear, “It’s not the crutches I’m thinking about from this angle, Ilene.”

---

That’s how the flirtation started, with Eddie not so subtlety checking out your ass at 7:30 on a Monday morning. It went on like this for the rest of the week. On Wednesday, you sat next to Dustin at lunch. His positivity was contagious, and you found you cared deeply for the kid. He always knew how to talk, or not talk, to you.

“So, Eddie tells me you’ve been helping him study.” You’ve been making eyes at Eddie from across the table. Eddie’s been coming over to your house for a couple of hours the last two afternoons, and you’ve started helping him work on his English paper. After talking him through what some of his issues have been, you offer to be his scribe. It’s working really well, you writing his words.

“Uh, yeah. It’s been nice having him around.” You finally drag your eyes away from Eddie to meet Dustin’s face and he’s practically glowing.

“Oh, good. You guys are, uh, really hitting it off, huh?” Your eyes roll a little and you flick the back of his hands with your fingers in a playful admonishment.

“Stop. It’s not like that.”

Dustin shrugs a little, still radiant with pleasure at all of the possibilities he has running rampant through his head.

“Hey, when do you see your doctor? It’s next week, right?”

“Yep.” It’s all you can manage. Your anxiety was starting to build at the thought of it.

“How soon do you expect to have your surgery?” You had told Dustin about the prospect of a hip replacement. He was enthusiastic, understanding it would be the ticket to a more independent life.

“As soon as he’ll schedule it. Realistically? Probably in a month. I think I’ve convinced my mom that it’s definitely happening, but you know, parents are always worried.” Dustin knew. He definitely knew.

“Well, I’m excited for you.” His big smile does a lot to settle your anxiety. His support means so much to you. “I’m sure Eddie will be excited too.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Dustin, I swear to god.” You shake your head and look back to see Eddie smirking at your obvious annoyance with his favorite kid.

---

“So, tell me about Eddie.” Your mom sat at the kitchen table and sorted through the mail while you got yourself situated on the recliner. You’d been sleeping in it all week, it holds your body in all of the right places. It’s the only place you can fully relax, even if it’s only for a couple of hours at a time.

“You met him, you already know about him.” It’s Friday, the first afternoon that you’ve returned from school without the metalhead following closely behind. His band is practicing, but he offered to come over after to watch a movie later.

“Yeah, he’s a good kid, I like him.” She rips open one of the envelopes and scans the page. A medical bill. You can tell from the resigned sigh that leaves her mouth. “I was just wondering if anything’s been going on between you two yet.”

“We’re just friends, mom.” It doesn’t even sound convincing to your own ears.

“Of course your friends. He’s the reason I don’t worry about you when you leave the house. But I’m not blind.” She doesn’t say anymore, she just gets up and digs her check book out of her purse before dropping back into the seat and continuing the depressing job of draining her bank account.

“Oh, uh, Eddie’s coming over at 7 to watch a movie if that’s ok.” Your attempt at sounding casual fails, and you know it because you’re mom barks out a laugh.

“Eddie’s always welcome, you don’t have to ask. ‘Just friends.’” She does air quotes at you, and you lay your head back to try to nap before Eddie heads over.

The next thing you know, there’s a hand on your arm and you smell pizza? Your groggy eyes are trying to open, the hand on your arm is lifting and you hear his voice, as if from a distance.

“Maybe I should go. I don’t want to wake her if she needs to sleep.” His voice is soft, and you wonder who he’s talking about. Wait, he’s talking about me. Because I’m asleep.

“No, I promise, she’ll never forgive me if I let her sleep through your visit.” You hear footsteps moving towards you, and there’s another smaller hand with a firmer grip on your arm. “Sweetie, Eddie’s here to see you. He brought over some pizza. Wanna wake up?”

Your feel like your eyelids weigh a ton, but you finally get them open enough to see your mom and Eddie standing over you, looking at you. Eddie looks concerned, his fingers at his mouth playing with his bottom lip.

“Hey, Buddy.” You croak out and give him a sleepy smile, and you can see him visibly relax. Your mom gives him a pat on the shoulder before she leaves the room. “Thanks for coming over, Eddie.” You start moving to get up, and he puts his hands out to stop you.

“Hey, no, it’s ok, stay there.” But you’re shaking your head, you had to get up and move around to get the blood flowing.

“I’m fine, I can’t stay in this chair anymore or I won’t sleep at all tonight.” Eddie’s quick to offer his arm to you, and warmth starts to stir inside of you. His leather jacket is thrown over a chair in the kitchen. This is the first time you’ve had your hands on his bare arm, and his skin feel so warm under your fingers.

“Where’d you get the pizza, Ed?” You put your arm around his shoulder, letting him help you to the kitchen without the aid of your crutches. His hair smells clean, like maybe he took a shower before coming over. You let your fingers brush across the ends of his hair to see if it’s still damp. It is.

“Uh, I went to Gino’s. Is that ok?” He turns his head to face you, and he’s so close. You notice his eyes drifting between your eyes and your mouth while you’re hopping the last few feet before resting on one of the cloth covered chairs at the octagonal table.

“It’s great. Thank you.” As soon as your ass hits the chair, he’s moving in a flurry. Getting you something to drink, plating some pizza, frenetic movements around the kitchen.

He finally sits with you after grabbing a plate for himself. This is the moment. This is when you know it. You let your foot rest next to his, your sock covered toes rub the top of his foot just a little, and he’s all smiles. This is good. He returns your gesture with a little toe rub of his own, and you let the greasy cheesy pizza fill your stomach while you play footsie with the pretty boy sitting next to you.

Eddie brought over the movie he’d been talking about all week, insisting you should watch it. LadyHawke. You know it’s not anywhere near what you’d consider watching normally, but his excitement was worth it. Also, the thought of sitting in a dark room with him sitting close to him made your whole body tingle.

You stood at in front of the couch, looking down at it, trying to decide what would work the best. Eddie stood there, looking a little confused, probably wondering why you were staring at a piece of furniture with such concentration.

“So, uh, do you need help, or…” He’s filling the silence with anything, and you’ve decided to just tell him the truth.

“I’m thinking about how I can be comfortable on this couch while also not being too obvious about wanting you to be close to me.” You keep looking at the couch, and Eddie is standing a little straighter.

“Ah, yeah, I see.” Now he’s looking at the couch with you while you lean your weight onto his shoulders. He snaps his fingers together excitedly. “I’ve got it. Here.” He’s helping you down onto the couch, making sure you’ve got a pillow to rest under your hip before he gets the movie set up and turns off the lights. You’re waiting, a little sad to be sitting alone.

“Ok, can I sit here?” He’s pointing at the very end of the couch where you’re head and shoulders are resting, and you feel a smile pulling on your lips.

“Of course you can.” You sit up as much as you can, and Eddie sneaks his slender body next to you. It’s easy to rest your head on him, perfectly comfortable, his arms are gently surrounding you. You can feel his steady breathing and the rhythmic beating of his heart with your head on his broad chest.

LadyHawke is playing on the television. You know that. Michelle Pfeiffer and Matthew Broderick are right on the screen. Outside of that, nothing is connecting. Eddie’s hand is moving along your arm, fingers lazily running along your skin. Your face is pressed into his cotton t shirt, it smells like fabric softener and very faintly of cigarette smoke. You can feel his warm breath on the crown of your head. Your hand is running along the rings of his free hand, dipping into the valleys between his fingers. You can hear his breath hitch when you let the tip of your fingers rub against the sensitive skin.

“This is really nice, Ed.” You need him to know how you’re feeling right now before your heart explodes in your chest from his tender touches.

“Mmmm” The hum is thick, reverberating through his chest. He’s gone somewhere, just feeling and not thinking. As casually as possible without full function of you lower half, you turn yourself to look at his face. Your expectation is that you’ll see his face focused on the screen, but no. He’s looking down at you with a soft expression.

You reach to touch his face, asking him to look at you. Please, see me. He does. You see his vision focus, he’s back with you. You run your finger down his jaw, feeling the stubble growing there. His hand isn’t running along your arm now. No, it’s found the spot on your side where you’re shirt has ridden up, and now his fingers are bringing out goosebumps along this new place, a gentle dance.

It’s a challenge. It’s awkward. You’re moving your body in ways that are not completely natural, trying to angle your face to meet his. His sweet and knowing smile makes you giggle a little. It’s ridiculous that this should be so hard when it’s so stupidly easy for every other teenager in the world. But, this is Eddie, and he’s not making you feel weird.

“You wanna kiss, Sweet Girl?” Of course you want a kiss. It’s why you have your body twisted, face in the crook of his neck. So close. You have to pull yourself up using his shirt as leverage.

“No.” Your face is heating up enough that you’re sure he can feel it on the skin of his neck. “I just wanna put my face right here.” You let your lips brush against his the soft skin behind his ear, and he lets out a little groan.

“Oh, yeah, ok.” His breath is ragged as you trail your lips across his neck leaving gentle kisses as you go. His hands are gripped firmly at the skin of your side, he’s obviously trying to keep himself under control while you assault his most sensitive spots.

“Eddie, I’m sorry.” You breath out in the shell of his ear and his breath stutters, “I’m lying. I really do want you to kiss me.” Your teeth nip at the spot behind his hear, and you’re satisfied with the whimper that escapes his pretty mouth.

It’s still awkward, but neither of you seem to care. The goal is to let your lips meet. So close. So, so close. He’s so pretty. The reflection of the screen illuminates his face, and you’re struck again by his perfect features. You can’t get your face to angle in the right way, so you just bring your hand up to run along his eyebrows, down his nose, along his pretty lips.

He closes his eyes while you explore his features with your featherlight touches. Slowly, he starts to move away from you, gently guiding your body to a half sitting position.

“Lay down, Sweetheart.” His knees are resting on the carpet in front of the couch, and he helps you lay on your side to face him. “There she is.” His hand cups your cheek and he closes the distance to let your lips meet. Finally. His lips are as soft as the touches you’ve been sharing. His fingers scratch at the back of your head, and your open mouths taste each other while Lady Hawke plays on in the background, all while Eddie sits on his knees on the floor.

---

In your living room on that Friday night, you let the waves take you like you always did. The feelings were happening, there was no stopping it. There are so few things in your life that make perfect sense, there’s so much uncertainty. But Eddie was consistent, he was true. So, it happens, and it’s right.

Saturday, you’re mother takes you to a salon. Self-care has been low priority for a long time, but the hair cut was a practice in hope. Monday morning, instead of meeting Eddie in the parking lot of the high school, you’ll be sitting in the office of your surgeon discussing next steps. While waiting for your time slot, you flip through the book filled with glossy images of haircuts. You know what you want before even stepping foot in the door, but you need a visual reference. When you see the picture, you have to hold in a laugh, it’s exactly what you’re looking for. It’s not until you see the cut on the model that you realize it is the same cut that Isabeau wears in LadyHawke.

The seat is uncomfortable, it strains the already painful joint, but it’s so worth it. Angie, your hairstylist, is massaging your scalp more than washing your hair, and you feel like purring with satisfaction. You suspect that your mom told her something that made her want to give you extra pampering, and you don’t even care if it’s out of pity. When she finally turns the taps off and wraps your head in a towel, your eyes are heavy, but your body feels light.

Getting a haircut has always been a ritual you like to go through before major medical stuff. It’s a shedding of the past and making room for new growth. The practicality of having less hair to deal with post operation is an added bonus. This is the first cut you’ve had in a year, and your hair is well past the donation threshold. After the initial chop of the braids hanging down your back, you listen to the scissors snip snip snip while small clumps of hair float to the ground. You feel freer already.

Sunday Eddie visits for a while, and he brings Dustin. It’s a surprise, but you’re so happy to see him. Outside of your mom, they’re the only ones you’ve told about your anxieties. To his benefit, Dustin never comments on the fact that you’re head rests in Eddie’s lap and that he runs his fingers through your hair while they visit. Even though it looks physically painful for him to keep his thoughts to himself.

For the first time it doesn’t feel like you’re just passing time and waiting for the next thing. Waiting for you life to finally make sense and be set right. You feel accepted and held by Eddie. He sees you and doesn’t frown at the sight of your pain, he simply tries to not add to it. Having a friend like Dustin must have played a part in his understanding, but it’s more than that. Eddie just accepts and offers sincerity in everything.

When Dustin takes off, telling you he’s got plans with Mike Wheeler, you know he’s really giving you and Eddie some time. Eddie helps you over to the recliner so you can really rest, the week was long and you’re still so tired. You make yourself small and pull him into the oversized chair with you. He doesn’t argue. He moves with clear intention, cautiously but not with fear.

“Eddie, thanks for being here for me.” Your running your finger down his sternum, following a path to his ribs. You try not to think too hard about doing this without the cotton barrier of his shirt. You’re present, enjoying it for what is and trying to not wish any of it away.

“This is where I want to be, Baby. With my girl.” His eyes are closed, he looks as tired as you do. Fully relaxed under your touch.

“I’m your girl?” He keeps his eyes closed, but his mouth draws up into a smile at the softness of your voice.

“Yes, and I’m sorry. You’re stuck with me now. You found that spot behind my ear. I can’t let you go.” You take his hint and nose your way to his neck and run you lips along the spot. He’s practically growling his response, “You’re an evil woman, do you know that?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you liked this.” He pulls your chin away from his neck so you can see his face. The tender look on his face has you feeling gooey and warm. You spend the rest of the evening with your lips connected, taking all that you could give one another until – finally – you fall asleep to the sounds of his breathing.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x disabled!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #disability in fanfiction

71 notes · View notes

baby-yongbok · 7 months

Text

Poetry

Chapter Three - Plan B

Hyunjin × Fem!Reader

Chapter Three - Plan B

Genre: Fluff, the cute slow burn type

Summary: Hyunjin had some amazing things lined up for your first date but the universe had other plans for you two.

Word Count: 5,953

A/N: I wrote this and queued it then I changed 50% of it last minute 🙃. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Honestly I don't know how mini this series is gonna be lol I have a lot of plans. See you next Thursday at 6 💕

Part Two

✧Poetry Series Masterlist✧

✧Main Masterlist✧

Hyunjin’s Pov - 6:28pm

I’m sure that this photographer is fed up with me, I would be too if my model kept looking at the clock and not the camera. In my defense, this shoot was supposed to be over thirty minutes ago. I took the earliest schedule to make sure that I would have enough time to get ready for me and y/n’s date today. I planned to get there early like I usually do so that I can see the moment that she walks into the restaurant. I don’t think that she’s noticed the way that I look at her yet, the way that I watch her. Actually, now that I think about it that sounds a bit creepy but I don’t mean it that way. It’s like photography for me, I just love seeing her from a different lens, strangers point of view. I love admiring her beauty and pretending that she has no idea that I exist. That might sound silly since she does in fact know that I exist and seems to enjoy my existence enough to go on a date with me but I can’t seem to help it.

All of the times that I showed up early to our Thursday bookstore date at Adore was solely because I wanted to see the moment that she walked through the door. I wanted to see her before she painted a smile on and fixed her hair in a way that she thought that I’d find appealing, I wanted to see her for her. So, I make sure to arrive at least thirty minutes early just so I can enjoy the minute or two right before she sees me, just so I can capture that moment. Unfortunately, I don’t think that I'm going to be able to do that today.

“I think we got it.” The photographer's tone is drenched in annoyance but I’m in too much of a hurry to care. I thank him quickly, not even bothering to take a look at the photo proofs, right now I have one mission and that’s to change and get to the restaurant. I rush to the front of the room where my stuff and my stylist are, luckily my stylist for this shoot is my roommate and one of my best friends. Han was one of the first friends that I ever made in this industry. We met at my first Versace shoot where he was a junior style consultant but now he’s calling the shots.

I rummage through my bag, looking for my phone to check for any messages from y/n but what I see instead makes my heart drop. Apparently the clock that I’ve been watching this entire time is an hour fast and there’s only twenty minutes until our reservation, well, there was twenty minutes until our reservation. The second thing that catches my eye is a cancellation text from the restaurant, it says that they’re canceling due to the weather but last time I checked there was only a bit of rain.

“Fuck.” I whisper to myself, running my fingers through my styled hair. I clearly didn’t whisper well enough because when I looked up I noticed a very confused Han staring at me.

“Did your date cancel?”

“Not my date but my reservation, apparently there’s a weather advisory.” I sigh, placing my phone down on the table and then picking it up again. I should call her, I have to let her know what happened but what do I tell her? I need a plan B.

“Weather advisory?” Han looks up the stairs towards the door that leads outside, still wearing an expression of confusion. “Ah, we’re in the basement. There’s no windows.”

How did I not notice that sooner? I look back down at my phone, opening y/n’s contact and staring at it. I don’t have a plan, I don’t know what to do next. How many other restaurants are closed because of the weather? I bet it’s not even that bad outside.

“Uh, Hyunjin.” I got so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice Han go up the stairs to the door and open it. The roaring of heavy winds echoed throughout the large room and from where I was standing outside looked like one huge blur. I made my way over to him quickly, standing and staring in disbelief when I got close enough to take in the god awful storm. “You might want to call your date.”

Han looks over at me but I keep my eyes fixed on the pouring rain. There’s no way that anyone is open right now, hell, I’m surprised that this basement isn’t flooded right now.

“What do I tell her?”

“Maybe you guys should reschedule.” That’s honestly the last thing that I want to do right now but I can’t think of a better plan. Maybe she has one? I’d have to call her to find out but I can’t bring myself to dial her number, maybe it’s because we’ve never spoken on the phone before?

“Maybe I’ll text her.” I unlock my phone and start typing but the feeling of Han’s gaze on me stops me before I can send the message. I side eye him for a second before turning my head completely, he has his arms crossed and eyebrows raised and I mimic him prompting him to speak. “What?”

“Are you afraid to call her?” I scoff at him, shaking my head and looking back down at my phone. “No fucking way, Hwang Hyunjin is nervous.”

“I’m not nervous, I just don’t want to bother her.” He chuckles and I roll my eyes, I might be nervous to call her but the last thing that I need is for him to get a hold of that information. I’d never hear the end of it.

“You don’t want to bother the girl who’s going on a date with you and is probably already waiting for your call?” I clear my throat as I smooth out the suit jacket that I wore for the shoot. He has a point but I’ll never let him know that.

“That’s not it I just -” I look down at my phone as it starts to vibrate in my hand and my heart stops. “Oh?”

“What?” Han asks, leaning over a bit to get a look at my phone screen.

“She’s calling me.” I stare wide eyed at the screen, I can’t help it, this is the very first time she’s called me. This would be the first time that we talk with our actual voices outside of the cafe. “What do I do?”

“Uh, answer it?”

“Right...right.” I took a deep breath before swiping the button and putting the phone to my ear but what I heard on the other line made my eyebrows furrow in confusion.

Is she talking to me?

Y/n’s Pov - 6:16 pm

“Are you sure that you’re going on a date today?” My roommate Changbin asks as he stares out of our living room window.

“Uh, yeah, he hasn’t said anything otherwise.” I call back from my bedroom as I look in the mirror to put my earrings on. “Why?”

“Have you not looked outside? It’s insane. I literally just watched our neighbors trash can get blown over the 7/11 across the street.” I sigh as I make my way into the living room.

“He would’ve called me if the plans changed right?” I look over with Changbin, hoping that maybe he can help calm my mind. I’ve been confiding in him when it comes to seeing Hyunjin, asking him what I should wear and how my hair looks before I go out to meet Hyunjin. I even asked him for advice regarding this date so he knows just how anxious I am. Changbin and I are bonded like blood, he’s my best friend and he knows just what to say to calm me down, well, he usually does.

“He should yeah, but maybe you should call him.” I freeze as I take in his suggestion, Hyunjin and I have never spoken on the phone. We’ve been texting nonstop, day and night, but we’ve never called each other. My silence seemed to have grabbed Changbin’s attention, he looks back at me with curious eyes until suddenly it clicked for him.

“No way.” He turns, walking over to me and standing with his arms crossed over his broad chest. I avoid eye contact because I already know that he’s going to make fun of me. “You two haven’t spoken on the phone yet?”

His words are loud and covered in disbelief, I glance over at his amused expression before looking down at my feet. I shrug, trying to play it off before answering in a bit of a whisper.

“It’s complicated.”

“All you have to do is press his contact and put the phone to your ear, how complicated is that?” He bites back sarcastically and I roll my eyes. I know that he’s right, it’s really not that hard but I can’t help that I’m anxious. Talking to Hyunjin is easy and relaxing but at the same time it makes me feel like I’m about to jump out of a plane for the first time. I turn on my heels, stalking back over to my room and picking my phone up from my Vanity. Changbin follows close behind me and watches as I unlock my phone and open my contacts, I scroll down to Hyunjin's name and press it. The call button is right there, all I have to do is press it, it’s simple.

“This is the part where you call him.” Changbin whispers over my shoulder and I groan, throwing a mini tantrum.

“Maybe I’ll just text him.”

“For fucksake, there’s no way that you’re that nervous to talk on the phone.” I turn to him and I’m more than sure that he can see the distress written on my features.

“I’ve never called him before, Bin.” I whine as I stare down at Hyunjin's contact.

“Well, there’s no time like the present.” Before I can process what’s going on Changbin snatches my phone from my hand and presses the call button before handing it back to me. My eyes go wide once I hear the first ring, my finger hovers the end button but I don’t press it. It would be embarrassing to hang up and have to explain what happened. I groan again before putting the phone up to my ear. My eyes land on Changbin’s smiling face and I instantly flip him off.

“I fucking hate you.” Before Changbin can reply I hear a confused voice on the other line and my heart drops. Shit, he thought I was talking to him.

“Did I do something wrong?” Hyunjin asks, confusion laced in his tone.

“Oh, no I’m sorry I was uh, talking to my roommate… anyway, uh hi.” I turn away from Changbin and move to sit at my vanity.

“Hey, I uh, I assume that you’re calling me about this god awful storm.”

“Yeah, it picked up pretty fast.” Hyunjin sighs on the other line and I take a deep breath to try and steady myself. He did a lot of setting up for today’s date and now it’s all ruined by the weather, I can’t imagine how he feels right now. “ Are we still, ya know.”

“Um, well, the restaurant actually canceled the reservation and I’m sure that just about every other place is doing the same.”

“Wow, okay, so uh..I guess we can do this another day.” I tried my best not to let my disappointment bleed into my tone but I’m positive that I failed when I hear yet another sigh come from Hyunjin.

“Yeah I guess so.” I shake my head even though he can’t see me but I can’t bring myself to say anything in response. I’ve been waiting for this day since the last time I saw him and it all got ruined by some fucking rain, that’s just great. I open my mouth to reply but stop when I hear some whispering on the other line, it’s not Hyunjin's voice but it sounds like it’s coming from right next to him. I try to make out what they’re saying but the sound of Hyunjin whispering back interrupts the process. After a couple seconds of him whispering to whoever he’s with I clear my throat to grab his attention.

“Sorry about that, uh, I um… I think that I have an idea but it’s totally fine if you don’t want to do it.” There’s a nervous shake to his voice that comforts me a bit, at least I’m not the only one that’s anxious.

“Oh? What’s the idea?”

“Maybe I could… come over to your place? We could have a home date, order some food and watch a movie. I mean, only if you’re comfortable with it, I don’t want to cross any boundaries.”

My gaze shifts over to where Changbin has been impatiently waiting in the hallway. He looks over at me with furrowed brows and now it’s our turn to whisper.

“What?” Changbin asks, leaning closer to me.

“He wants to come over.” I whisper as quietly as I can and Changbin’s eyebrows fly up in surprise.

“He gets ten points for being bold. Do it.”

“But the apartment is a mess.” I motion towards the living room and Changbin looks behind him, scanning the room carefully.

“We literally just cleaned yesterday.” Anxiety climbs up my spine as I realize that there’s no way to get out of this. It’s not that I don’t want to have this date, I want it more than anything, the problem is I have never in my entire life had a man over to my shared apartment but there’s no time like the present, right?

“Fine.” I whisper back at him, rolling my eyes in defeat.

“Everything alright?” Hyunjin asks from the other line and I sit up straighter in my seat at the sound of his voice.

“Yeah, uh let’s do it. A home date sounds good.” He’s quiet for a second, most likely trying to calm down his hammering heart because I am definitely trying to do the same thing.

“Great so, uh do you want to keep the same time?”

“Yeah seven still works, I’ll uh, send you my address.” Changbin gives me a thumbs up, trying his best to encourage me through my anxiety.

“Okay well uh, see you soon.”

“Yeah, see you soon.” I slowly lower the phone from my ear before hanging up and practically throwing it onto my vanity. He’s going to be in my house, in my room, oh my gosh.

“See that wasn’t so bad.” My mind is racing, now I have to prepare for an entirely new date. I need to clean my room, I’m way too overdressed for a home date, I need to redo my makeup. Do I even have enough time? What movie do we watch? “Y/n?”

The sound of Changbin calling my name snapped me out of my thoughts, I don’t have time to sit here, I need to get moving. Oh my god, he’s going to be in my house.

“Out. I need to get ready… again.”

“I don’t think that there’s much for you to do.” I glare over at my roommate and he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m going, I'm going.”

He backs out of my room, closing the door with him. How in the hell do I prepare for this date now?

Third Person Pov - 6:57pm

You spent forty minutes rushing around your room and moving things around. Your room wasn’t even messy but it wasn’t exactly the most romantic setting either. You organized and decorated your bookshelf, lighting some candles and turning on your fairy lights. You vacuumed and changed your sheets so that everything was fresh. After spending way too much time revamping your space you turned your attention to your appearance. You got dressed, again, trying your best to pick something comfortable but not too casual, this is a date after all. The more you think about it, the more comfortable you are with the change of plans. Instead of some expensive wine and some fancy restaurant you get to indulge in cheap wine and fast food on your bedroom floor. It’s more your speed, more intimate, romantic. The idea of it makes you blush, you and Hyunjin always settle into your own bubble when you’re together but tonight it really will be just the two of you. The thought of it is scary yet exciting.

You haven’t heard from Changbin since you sent him away earlier, you were thankful that he gave you your space to prepare instead of hovering but you knew that he’d be back to check on you before your date started. That’s why you’re not surprised when you hear the small knock on your bedroom door.

“Come in.” You call out just as you complete your look, pulling on your forest green sweater. Changbin opens your door and leans against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks you over and shakes his head in approval.

“You look comfortable, it’s very you.” You chuckle lightly, turning towards your mirror to study your look. Your curly hair is pulled up into a messy bun and your green sweater is paired with a pair of high waisted black leggings and a pair of fuzzy green socks to match your sweater.

“You think that it’s okay?” You ask, your eyes meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. He moves from his spot at your door frame and comes up behind you, he places his hands on your shoulders and gives a reassuring squeeze.

“You look wonderful as always, and from what you’ve told me this guy is already head over heels in love with you.” You scoff, turning around to be face to face with your roommate.

“I never said that, that’s just what you think.” You move from in front of him and take a seat at your vanity. You decide that your look could use a subtle touch of lip gloss and maybe a necklace. Changbin goes back over to your door frame leaning against the wood as he watches you.

“I promise you that everything that this guy has done up until this point is just screaming ‘I’m in love’. I even bet that he’s going to kiss you tonight.” Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in Changbin’s words. Is Hyunjin going to try and kiss you tonight? What if he does? It’s been nearly a year since you’ve kissed a man, are you even still good at it? Were you ever good at it? “Hey, get out of your head.”

You’re brought back to reality by Changbin poking your shoulder lightly.

“You think he’s going to kiss me?” Just as Changbin opens his mouth to reply, a deep rumble of thunder rips through the apartment.

“First let's see if he’ll even show up.” You groan before picking up your phone and checking for any new messages from Hyunjin. Maybe you should cancel, having him travel in this storm is dangerous and the last thing that you’d want is for him to get hurt. Just as you're about to reply you’re interrupted by another sound but instead of thunder it’s the sound of knocking at your front door. Your heart rate quickens as you look at the time.

“Fuck, that’s him, oh my gosh.” You rush to stand from your vanity chair, looking in the mirror one more time. “I can do this.”

You start to walk out of your room but just as you pass Changbin he grabs your wrist lightly and flashes you a big smile. “You deserve this, ya know?”

“What do you mean?”

“You deserve to live the life that you read about and you deserve to have your fairytale ending. I know that you’re nervous but you got this, okay?” You smile back at him nodding your head in acknowledgement. Changbin has always been there for you through your ups and downs, especially when the two of you were in university together. You were the classic hopeless romantic looking for her prince charming in all the wrong places. Changbin was your shoulder to cry on whenever you ended up with a broken heart which happened more times than you’d like to admit. “And if you need me to kick him out just text me.”

He lets go of your wrist and you can’t help but to laugh at his previous statement.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” You hear a knock at the door again and you rush over to answer it. You take a deep breath before turning your lock followed by the knob and opening your front door with a smile. That smile quickly drops into a look of confusion once you take in the sight in front of you. Before you stands your date holding orange roses while in a soaking wet black suit that looks expensive enough to pay your rent for two months. His long black hair is slicked down and dripping and you’re almost positive that everything in the bag that he carries is ruined.

“Oh my gosh.” You gasp out, a faint chuckle passes Hyunjin’s lips as you stare at him in shock.

“May I uh, come in?” You nod quickly, moving to the side to let him in. Once he’s inside and you’ve closed the door behind him the two of you stand in a bit of an awkward silence.

“It’s raining just a tiny bit.” Hyunjin whispers towards you and the two of you can’t help but to break out into a fit of laughter.

“Hyunjin, you’re soaked.” You watch as he slips off his shoes and places them neatly by the entrance. He may not have realized it but he placed them right next to yours. The sight of his large shoes next to your smaller ones brings a small smile to your face.

“Yeah, well, my roommate ended up needing to use my car for an emergency. I tried to order an uber but they kept canceling on me. I even tried to catch the bus but the next one didn’t come at a decent time. I figured that if I wanted to be on time my best bet was to walk.”

“You could’ve been a bit late, I would have understood.” Hyunjin shakes his head, a slight grin on his face.

“I never want to be late getting to you.” You can’t help the blush that creeps across your cheeks as his words sink in. “Oh, um, these are for you.”

He takes a step towards you, handing the wet roses over to you and you accept them with a wide smile. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are, but I must admit that they have some very serious competition.” You tear your gaze away from the flowers and look up at Hyunjin with furrowed brows. He reaches forward and takes your hand in his. The small touch makes your body feel electric as always. “You look stunning tonight.”

He leaves a small kiss on the back of your hand and you swear that the butterflies in your stomach have multiplied.

“As do you.. Even though you’re soaked.” You laugh again as you take in his appearance. Keeping your hand in his you decide to lead him away from the main entrance and over to your bedroom. You can hear music coming from Changbin's room and you can’t help but to feel thankful for his attempt at giving you some privacy. You lead Hyunjin through your living room and past the kitchenette until you reach your room.

“You have a very nice apartment.” Hyunjin comments as he takes a quick look around.

“You don’t have to lie.” You chuckle as you lead him into your bedroom, closing the door behind the two of you.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” You smile at his response, That sure does sound familiar.

“Well then, thank you.” You turn to your closet and start to rummage through it. “I should have some clothes that you can change into here.”

“You have mens clothing in your closet?” You can hear the slight confusion in his voice and it makes you a bit nervous. Does he think that that’s odd?

“Well, my roommate gives me the clothes that he doesn’t wear anymore so I have some mens clothing, yeah.” You try your best to sound nonchalant but you’re sure that the shakiness in your voice gave way to how you really felt. Hyunjin flashes you a soft smile as he nods.

“Your roommate is a guy? Are the two of you close?” He asks while his eyes scan your room slowly, taking in all of the personal details.

“He’s like a brother to me.” You grab a set of clothing from the top shelf and turn back around to him. “We met in college and have been best friends ever since.”

“Well, I hope to meet him soon.” You hand Hyunjin the clothes and he smiles. “Beer Pizza?”

You look down at the white t-shirt with maroon lettering and you can’t help the embarrassed blush that covers your cheeks. You have a man wearing the most expensive suit you’ve ever seen in your bedroom and you gave him a silly graphic t-shirt to wear?

“I can find something different.” You mumble as you start to turn back towards your closet but Hyunjin's gentle grip on your wrist stops you. You turn around to his smiling face and your heart calms down a bit at the sight.

“It’s fine. I just thought that the design was kind of… fun, ya know? It’s not what I’d usually wear but I like it.” You nod and he lets go of your wrist. “ Where should I uh..”

“Oh, right um you can change in here. I’ll go put the roses in some water, you can use the towel on the back of the door.” You grab the roses off of your vanity and rush out of the room, once you hear the click of your door closing all the way you take a deep breath and try to calm yourself. You can’t help but to feel a bit embarrassed by your reaction to the clothes you gave him but who could blame you? That man looks expensive, I mean you would too if you did what he did for work… Wait, what does he do for work?

You think to yourself as you fix your roses in the pretty blue vase that you got from some thrift shop years ago. How have you been seeing this man once a week for five weeks and you still have no clue what he does for work? He’s in your apartment and you don’t even know that small detail? You sigh at yourself as you place the flowers in the middle of your kitchen island and head back to your room.

“I should really ask him.” You whisper to yourself as you grip your bedroom door knob. You knock twice and Hyunjin calls out a soft ‘come in’ before you turn the knob. You start to walk in but stop dead in your tracks as you catch a glimpse of Hyunjin's back as he pulls the t-shirt over his frame. Your cheeks heat up instantly and you feel a blush creep over you for the millionth time tonight and the date only just started.

“May I use some hangers? I need to let this dry properly or else I’m in big trouble.” Hyunjin laughs nervously and you nod.

“Why would you be in trouble?” You ask in an attempt to get your brain to focus on something other than the very appealing back muscles of the man in your room.

“It’s not my suit. I begged my stylist to let me keep it on so that I could rush over to you.” He replies with a slight chuckle.

“Stylist?” You ask yourself in a whisper as you try to figure out what job he could have that would require such a thing. Hyunjin smiles as he steps closer to you, taking the hangers that you’ve fished from your closet.

“I never told you what I do for work, did I?” You shake your head and now it was his turn to blush. “I suppose that I always try to avoid that conversation when I first meet people. It gets hard to tell who wants to be your friend for the money and who is actually interested in you.”

“Money? What money?” You joke and Hyunjin chuckles.

“I know that I can trust you. For some reason, I’ve felt that since I met you…” Hyunjin’s sentence trails off into a whisper. He seems to be in deep thought for a second but he snaps out of it before you can ask what he means by that. “Anyway, I’m uh, I’m a model for some luxury brands. Hence all of the Versace that I wear and the YSL suit that I got soaked in.”

“Oh?” You can’t help but look Hyunjin over slowly, taking in his features and his frame. Of course he’s a model, He’s the personification of perfection in the fashion world's eyes.

“Is.. that alright?” He asks, scratching the back of his neck nervously. You perk up at the sound of his uneasy tone and grin.

“Yeah, I just can’t believe I didn’t figure that out. You’re so beautiful, of course you’re a model.” You freeze as you realize the words that just left your mouth. You look down at your rug quickly as your face flushes.

“I’m beautiful?” Hyunjin asks, clearly amused by your confession. “ I believe that I’m in the same position as the roses I gifted you, I definitely have some very serious competition.”

He steps forward so that he’s right in front of you and gently places a finger under your chin so that your flustered gaze meets his soft one. He’s smirking down at you softly, taking in the beautiful rose red that’s sweeping across your features. You stare back at him but you can’t help but to glance down at his blushed lips. The smirk pulling at them makes your heart beat faster than the embarrassment that's melting away.

“Thank you for the compliment.” Hyunjin whispers and now it was his turn to look at your lips. Beautiful and shining with the coat of lip gloss you put on minutes before he arrived. You both have the same thought, the same desire.

“You’re welcome.” You whisper back, blinking up at him with doe eyes that he swears carries the galaxies. You lean into the gentle touch he has on your chin just a bit, drawing yourself closer to him. Hyunjin can feel his heart beating a mile a minute, he can hear his brain telling him what to do but he can also hear the doubt whispering to him and for some reason the whispers always win. With a small sigh Hyunjin retracts his hand and you instantly feel yourself missing his electric touch. He takes a step back and picks up one of the hangers you gave him from your full size mattress.

“Are you hungry? We should figure out what we’d like to eat.” He asks, avoiding eye contact with you. You do the same, as you try to slow down the fast beating of your heart.

“Yeah, I’ll see what’s open.” You reply quietly before stalking over to your vanity and grabbing your phone to browse through a delivery app. “What are you in the mood for?

“Just about anything, you pick what you want and I’ll follow.”

He puts his suit on the hangers and then moves to place the wet items on the back of your door. He watches you as you mindlessly scroll through the restaurants, rocking back and forth lightly. He can’t help but smile but unfortunately there’s only a small trace of happiness in this gesture. His thoughts are racing and he can’t help but to feel like he’s drowning in them. What is he doing here with someone as beautiful as you? Someone so smart and stunning and open to love. What could his damaged heart possibly provide you? Hyunjin can’t help but to bite his tongue as his doubts start to attack him, flashbacks to all the things that have tainted him, all of the things that he wants so desperately to tell you even though the two of you have only just met. He wants to hear you say that none of it matters, that even with his heart being ripped out of his chest before he met you you’ll still love him, that you’ll teach him how to do the only thing that he’s desired to do for years. There’s a hint of hope in his thoughts and it only grows bigger when you look up at him. Your curious eyes ground him immediately and he can’t help but to smile again, that hint of hope budding into a small flower in his heart. Maybe he can do this?

“See anything good?” He asks as he walks over to you, he stands behind you and places a hand on the small of your back gently. You relax into the touch and you both grin a bit.

“I’m buying so go crazy.” He chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“We can go half.” Hyunjin clicks his tongue in disapproval as he sits on the edge of your bed.

“Absolutely not, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you pay on the first date?” You sigh, turning to face him.

“I just like for things to be fair.” He offers his hand to you and you take it without a second thought. He leads you forward a bit, opening his legs to allow you to get closer to him.

“If I am to be fair then I must treat you the way that my heart so desires. I must gift you all of the world's greatest wonders before I can call you one of my own.” A shy smile adorned Hyunjin's lips full lips before he licked them, pulling them into a thin line right after.

“Who was that by? It was beautiful.” He reaches his free hand up to scratch the back of his neck lightly, a mere chuckle leaving his lips.

“Uh, that was actually an original.” Your eyes widen slightly as a blush sneaks up on you. “That bad?”

Hyunjin chuckles again, this time avoiding your gaze

“No.. I just, I guess I’m surprised? I wasn’t aware that you wrote poetry and that was…that was beautiful, Hyunjin, really.” His eyes meet yours quickly and he can feel his nerves melt away.

“Thank you.” He whispers shyly before clearing his throat a bit. “I only just started writing again. I guess I found my muse.” You watch him as he grins a bit, he sits up straighter trying his best to compose himself. A shiver runs over you and you smile a bit, he can’t be talking about you right? There’s no way that you’re his muse…right? The two of you seem to snap out of your thoughts at the same time, smiling at each other with shy yet soft gazes. The air feels electric again, is this how the entire night is gonna feel?

“So, what are we thinking for dinner? I’m starving.”

← Previous Chapter ♡ Next Chapter →

133 notes · View notes

genshinology · 1 year

Text

𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓, 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔. zhongli

(requested by anonymous.)

content; zhongli x gn!reader. historical au to modern au (ig we could say that liyue has been modernised and like teyvat has been shifted into powerless realm without elements (please, bear with me and my stupid imagination ANSBHIQWKNDK)), reincarnation au, soulmates au, not really angst or fluff but like zhongli misses the reader and it shows, mentions of character death. wc; 1.6k (not proofread, let’s gaurr)

a part of my 800 followers event + *gasps* finally i am back to actual writing?!?!?! and get to continue this event??? HAHA ik this is so not my tradition of being inactive most of the part this year eek (btw, i have finals for like the next two weeks, so expect this blog only filled with queued stuff, etc.)

it was raining.

the day zhongli found you back on liyue past, dark days, where he was still the geo archon - all powerful, and craving the power from his people in the archon war, still under the name of morax - zhongli could not understand how you, a mere human without a vision, caught his attention in more ways than one.

sure, he believed that he knew you through guizhong, one of his old acquaintances, but he still could not comprehend how he could seek joy and calmness whenever you were around him, despite him still did not wander around with the body of his human form, zhongli. and how content you were when you knew that he was morax, not a passerby that casually tried to hit up on you.

it was raining, when he saw you working hard, a trait he found himself adored when it came from you, you were his everything back then, until he remembered how dread it was; one day, when the archon war finally came to its end, and news of you died tragically during the battle between gods, along with his close friends.

he could not imagine how helpless you must have been, without the power he often accompanied you whenever you said you were going out to catch up with the outside world. zhongli blamed everything on himself, how he was not able to protect the one people he cherished the most, you.

it was raining, once again, when he found you running towards katheryne, complained something about nearby monster attacks so that the adventurers’ guild could take the problem into their hand.

zhongli remembered how you thanked the receptionist, eyes gleaming with hope. the one emotion that he remembered back hundreds of years ago that was reserved for him. the one emotion he would trade his life for, because the hopefulness in your eyes was the one thing that kept him alive, the one thing that made him determined to be a better god, and he thought he was being deceived when he turned twice to properly look at your figure.

(yes, zhongli was no longer a god that oversaw liyue, but at times like this, he remembered how he was not really a gentle god to begin with, and the presence of you in the old days gave him hope for him to be kinder and wiser, and, he would not hesitate for a brief second if someone asked him how to be a respectable god (because zhongli, more often than not, was asked this question a little bit too much by the other gods and archons alike). he would, surely, answered those questions that you, the little human that he swore had sunshine upon you, was the one that brought the best out of him.)

zhongli could not believe when childe introduced you to him. (it was funny how he met you through his close friend, again.) you were helping xiangling at the wanmin restaurant, and as a regular there, he could not believe that it was really you. the same smile, the same height, the same face, even the same walk, and your kindness in serving other customers, even him, were all still the same. the y/n that he knew, the y/n that he wanted to protect, the y/n that he loved. it was still you, and zhongli knew that deep in your heart, you also sensed a familiarity when you approached him. it was weird, but you managed to introduce you to him, the new part-time worker at the restaurant and that this was your side income.

zhongli was wise, and smart. he, at that time, decided to not being too attached to you, although he assumed that he was actually immune to the death occurrences around him, since he learned that it was inevitable. all mortals he befriended with, all would only go and leave him alone, like how he always be.

but he could not deny the ache in his heart when he longed for your presence and attention, especially when you said you would be going back to your hometown, far away from liyue, and for once, zhongli reminisced the second, most bittersweet goodbye from you, and worst yet, he never knew when you died for a second time. all he knew was you admired him from afar from hu tao, and zhongli regretted his choice back then of not welcoming you into his heart once again.

it was a raining night, where cars and buses bustling around the busy city. the horns from afar, the colourful lights, the coffee in his hand, the droplets of rain that stained the café large window. all things, somehow, made him focused more on the memories of you, and the thousands of emotions that came along with them.

“may i sit here for a while?”

zhongli gave the person a brief nod, not really paying attention due to the fact that he was so deep in his thoughts, before he could feel the sense of familiarity to the person beside him.

zhongli never acted recklessly, often forming his own thoughts of consequences before doing anything, but he could not hide his shock when the person in front of him met his eyes, and, for a fleeting moment, zhongli knew it was you. he just knew.

if soulmates were real, he was so sure now that you were his.

you halted for a moment, part of you was awestruck by the manly aura that radiated off of him, but you could not ignore the tinge of sadness that suddenly overwhelmed you.

“have we.. have we met?” the simple question coming from you was more than enough to make his heart shattered into pieces, not because of the disappointment of you not recognising him - of course you couldn’t remember. you had been going through many stages of life cycles, and he would forever stuck with one - it was the fact that you thought you knew him, almost made the urge to pull you into his arms ten times stronger than ever.

the way zhongli kept on being silent made you quickly realised how off the question was, especially if you had just met a stranger in a downtown café. “wait, i’m sorry for sounding stupid. it’s just - i thought we know each other before but i may be wrong,” you sent an awkward laugh. “and i’m sorry if i am interrupting your personal space, that the rain is pouring and i could not catch the last bus and my umbrella is kinda broken -

“it’s fine, y/n.”

you almost dropped your phone at that. so, you had met. but you could not remember where.

the sadness inside you amplified the more you tried to shrug it off, his voice worsened your confusion to the negative feeling inside you, but, somehow, the more you held eye contact with this beautiful man in front of you, the more relieved you felt.

the sense of familiarity was not something you could ignore, with the fact that the man in front of you could technically be a bad person didn’t even come across your mind. “i know this might sound dumb, or stupid, or both but like - where did we meet?”

“somewhere, and i believe we were close at that.”

thousands of questions surged your mind, how could you forget a person that was close to you? the way you knew he wasn’t lying made your insides felt more relieved. who was this man? and why did you feel so sad? and relieved?

“the name’s zhongli,” he introduced himself to you.

the name struck you once again, but zhongli decided that this was all too much for you by reading your body language. even after centuries had passed, you were still the y/n he knew. “your umbrella broke?”

“i, uhh, yes,” you felt like you were sharing too much information on this guy who you barely knew, but the way he gave you the most gentle smile coming from a man made you knew that you could trust him. it made no sense, how you were not making any sense even in your own thoughts.

“let me offer you a ride. it is late and dangerous.”

you didn’t even doubt him and his words. something about him made you felt safe, and you thought you were the one who acted weirdly in front of him, but you figured that he didn’t mind. perhaps he had always been nice just like this.

“thank you, zhongli,” zhongli sent a small smile, one which pulled the strings of your heart. was this love at first sight, or you were actually close with him before? it was absurd, but you decided not to care with the intrusive thoughts.

either way, your gratitude made zhongli unknowingly blinked his eyes. those were the last words you said at him both times he met you. now, he swore he wouldn’t let you go again, with no responsibility of a god on your first life, and no treatment of platonic relationship with you on the second, he just knew that in this life, he would cherish every moment with you once again.

both of you decided to watch the rain after zhongli treated you with a drink, and, ironically enough, it was the most beautiful, and calming night you had ever seen.

#🍁.800;event #☆.works #twilight-theatre #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli imagines #zhongli fluff #zhongli angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin angst

316 notes · View notes

twojackals · 10 months

Text

It starts at the top

Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda is a good person who I admire. I consider her a mentor and I probably always will to some degree. She is a skilled Egyptologist, a talented divination professional, a beloved spiritual leader (even still to me now, that remains true), and I dare say under different circumstances she'd be easily considered a friend -- the problem is, no one these days has access to Tamara Siuda long enough to be her friend -- but what's worse is that in, my opinion, no one has enough access to Tamara Siuda to be her devotee, either.

And that is definitely one of the big reasons behind my dropping down from Shemsu-Ankh to Remetj.

Let's roll back for a second though.

Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda is the creator of Kemetic Orthodoxy (not Kemeticism, but Kemetic Orthodoxy in specific. She is a truly beloved spiritual leader, and the self-proclaimed incarnation of the Kingly Ka (a spiritual component linking all Pharonic Kemet rulers, aka Pharaohs). She had a calling, and a vision, and she did everything she could to bring those ideas and visions to fruition. Enter Kemetic Orthodoxy.

I arrived in the House late 2000. The year 2000 was a different time: Some people like me will tell you the old days were the better days, and we really do mean it; however, it doesn't come without its caveats. We were smaller back then, and that isn't something I deny to be an easier situation. With a smaller community size, came differences. Much different, in fact. So different, it may have well been an entirely different religion in a lot of ways, not in belief structure, but in access to the people most important to be the guiding lights of the path itself, and interaction with Hemet (a word conveying a type of royalty), or Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda, was not at all infrequent.

Having an actual human relationship with Rev. Dr. Siuda back then wasn't a difficult task, and it is what I remember most fondly about "the old days", as it were.

Today, you can literally go months without ever seeing Hemet in any accessible KO location. It's strange because I think I didn't notice it for a long time, and only began to realize the extent of this isolation / disconnection for myself when I first joined her Patreon server. While I had spent the 3+ years (4 come Wep Ronpet) since re-joining the temple wondering "where is Hemet in all of this these days" as her presence grew ever more scant, joining her Patreon would be a refreshing surprise, because basically: there she is. It's not terribly difficult to touch base with her when you're on her Patreon Discord or in one of her Patreon programs, and that shook my world a bit more than I thought it would. To the point where it became one of the reasons I pulled out of the same program after being in it for only a very short amount of time.

Where was Hemet? Well she was there, for anyone who was willing to pay for it at least, and that bothered me to my very core. To be extremely clear, I do not believe she means it to look this way. I do not believe it is her intention for things to be this way, but as per our capitalistic society, maybe that's just the way it needs to be.

That sent me spiraling back into my memories, some more recent than others. We had for years disavowed the idea of a "paywall" inside Kemetic Orthodoxy, for example. Even the old mailing list which was a "Donate $5 and get access to extra stuff!" was a source of disdain: People considered that "tiered access", though I think the donation aspect still exists but not held in perpetuity or the like (you donate once, no one notices if you never donate again). But today, the quality of what you get is no longer there anyway, even for $5. I suppose that is because holding anything back "just for donors" brings that "tiered access" problem back. Today, the list you are subscribed to is nothing but a regurgitation of some Daybook content, and it appears to be queued up robotically with absolutely no customization.

It's funny because if you read what the list is meant to provide, it is that Daybook content as well as (quote) "hymns, prayers, and other tidbits provided by Hemet (AUS)." We used to get that back in the day, to be clear. The tidbits, prayers, hymns… we used to even have access to KO blog-style posts from Hemet multiple times per week. Unfortunately, those days are long gone, and as I mentioned, the mailing list is nothing but the same Daybook content on a never-ending carousel, the beautiful inspirational blog posts are long gone, and Hemet is about as distant as both of them.

As a result, I hardly consider the "mailing list" to be a form of tiered content, but there was at one point in the House's history a time when people cried about the disparity between those with $5, and those without, despite always needing donations, and I suppose here we are.

When you think about the fact that we no longer have the access to Hemet we once did, we no longer have the relationship to Hemet we once did, we no longer get the tidbits, prayers, hymns, and other unique content we once did, and no one really cares if you continue donating "at least $5 in a calendar year or not" to be on it, you realize that list is really nothing anymore. It's just recurring mush pre-scheduled and unlovingly dumped into your box at midnight or like, akin to so much spam we avoid day in and day out, and you still technically have to pay $5 for it.

But all the while we the Kemetic Orthodox crowd is getting this regurgitated content and limited access, people are in fact able to get plenty of access to Hemet and personalized relationships and advice... just not within the actual religion she created. And the way they do that is, in fact, by paying for it: the one thing we kept saying we didn't want to do as a religion, but that we can -- and dare I say, should -- do. Because listen: I recognize capitalism, and that nothing operates on hopes and prayers. There should be tiered access available within Kemetic Orthodoxy that gives access to programs and resources so that donations do happen and that Hemet does not need to go to Patreon independently to do what she needs to do, and our community can again have an access to its spiritual leader that makes that much more worth being here to begin with.

Because I can get the Gods anywhere -- I can only get Kemetic Orthodoxy here though.

But at the same time, you can't keep asking for donations, and delivering almost nothing to the very religion you created. And I do not say that in a vacuum, because before you say "all she does behind the scenes", I already know quite a bit of what she does behind the scenes, and I'm here to tell you quite point-blank: it isn't enough (clarify: it isn't enough to only be behind the scenes and just tell people you really really promise you're doing tons of work, even if you never see or get to interact with me).

I'm sorry, Tamara.

It's weird, I know, I sound like I'm speaking against her, but yet seem to turn it around entirely saying things like she should be available via paywalls. It also seems like I'm screaming into a void of entitlement, but again that's not meant to be the case. If you look at what I'm saying, you will understand I am not speaking 'against' her at all. I am in favor of her doing every single thing she must to find joy, happiness, and yes money, because that's the world we live in... and if that's outside Kemetic Orthodoxy, so be it. But you can't necessarily be "King", either, at the same time.

I do not agree with the idea that the only place you can seem to get access to our own spiritual leader in any significant capacity, is outside of the very religion she created. And creating a religion is no small thing, particularly if you are going to be assigned the literal role of Royalty that comes down from a very long, long line. I mean, she won't even participate in our own Discord, and to be clear, she is definitely participating in her own. So this is not a technology-gap kind of thing, and while the excuse over time has always been that people will try to overwhelm her, there are ways of dealing with that -- none of which anyone is willing to explore.

That responsibility you create by the process of birthing an entire religious movement into this world… it cannot be quantified by contracts, donation levels, exterior commitments, or other spiritual lives you may lead. If you create a path followed by hundreds, you need to be there, because that is your creation from the ground up, your baby, and all the babies that came from it depend on you for as long as it remains standing. "How do you make money", "How do you keep it going", "How do you find the time" -- all good questions, and all not questions anyone in the religion you've created technically needs to worry about, because it wasn't their choice to make this path, it was only their choice to follow it.

By making a statement of such importance as being the incarnation of an ancient, profound, holy and somewhat unbroken energy, followed up without a commitment that reflects the very innate reverence and humility contained within the statement itself, is a paradox I am having great difficulty to reconcile, not the least of which is how you can claim to be this, but also be dual-aspected in terms of your own spirituality in your own personal life as well (something I will not comment further on, asit is a point of bitterness I cannot overcome right now but also a very complex point as well that is not fair for me to touch on).

Simply speaking, after great, deep consideration, I have simply had to come to the conclusion as follows:

Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda, who I still admire, and deeply respect, is not the incarnation of the Kingly Ka of Pharonic Kemet. She remains an amazing spiritual leader, a strong and experienced divination practitioner (which is why I still accept my RPD results), and a beautiful soul. But in its current incarnation? I feel Rev. Dr. Tamara Siuda has functionally abandoned Kemetic Orthodoxy in one too many ways, and I do not believe any true modern-day King could be capable of such a serious lapse or gap.

In a not-insignificant way, I do feel she avoids her community more than she embraces it, and that makes me sad. Too sad to stay as I was any longer, because I was not getting what I needed from a spiritual community, and too much of it went back to Tamara in specific.

It's possible, one day, I will change my mind about this. I am not so arrogant to think I will never change my mind again, I am 41 years old and have changed my mind more times than I can count. But for now, I agreed I would talk about why I've decided to make these changes in my Kemetic spiritual life, and this needed to be said if I was going to be honest. This is how I feel, right now, for today, and probably tomorrow.

I've cut out quite a bit of material from this, things I wrote down in my first few days after I made the change to Remetj that were perhaps a lot more harsh than I intended. I re-read it to myself and, while a lot of it still made sense, I decided it was just not fair to post. Instead, I tried to balance the way I feel, and the things I want to say, with enough balance that I can still project how disappointed I am in the state of everything and turns of events (or lack thereof), without equally projecting a serious attack against another person (which is not my intent).

I am not here to attack. I am here to express, and that will walk a fine line not everyone is going to agree with.

As usual, I'm fairly OK with that. Edit: Wow... in writing this, I wasn't expecting it to feel like a 20-lbs weight has been lifted from my chest, and my heart, and my soul. But here we are.

Edit 2: Someone on Facebook decided to state that I believe Hemet is a "dirty capitalist" -- I want to be clear that if this is what you've gotten from this post, you are wildly mistaken. Either I am not calling her that at all, or I am simply calling us all dirty capitalists, due to the innate unavoidability of capitalism itself. Ultimately, the idea is to combine 'necessary capitalism' with KO in order to save it and to ensure its spiritual leader can survive on what is connected to the House, rather than what comes from outside the House.

But, I was also accused of stating that Hemet should spend 'all of her free time' in the House, and that is a bit more tricky to address. Here's the thing: if you're going to call yourself King / Pharaoh, perhaps this is the responsibility that comes along with it -- whether that is 'palatable' to people becomes irrelevant.

Edit 3: Because we need these edits, yo. To be crystal clear, I also believe there are alternatives to Tamara being "only involved" in KO, but that's going to involve her a) speaking more readily, honestly, and openly to her congregation on a regular basis (perhaps not every day, but regular, none the less), b) dropping down from a position of "King" to something more akin to High Priest or Spiritual Leader so that her role makes more sense, c) creating full delegation to a wide group of people to run the Temple and its resources/platforms (something where change is happening slower than a snail can jog), d) dropping all contracts that indicate she will work x-amount-of-hours for x-amount-of-pay, because the organization is no where near big enough or committed enough to support it, unless e) they finally agree to integrate some revenue stream into the Temple itself. I'm not saying I have all the answers. I'm saying the way it is now, doesn't work, and will only get worse. I am hoping for change that bridges the gaping divides, and I don't have a scripted plan to 100% tell anyone how that would go. I just know that it can't stay like this, and as long as it does, Kemetic Orthodoxy is not for me. Like I said: I can get the Gods anywhere.

#blog #kemetic #kemet #personal #netjer #religion #pagan #spirituality #spiritual #growth #spiritual journey #kemetic orthodoxy #kemeticism #paganism #polytheism #polytheist #gods #ancient egypt

82 notes · View notes

urielcool777 · 1 year

Text

this one's a little long oopsie

day twenty to twenty-six

sorry for not posting in like a week 😭 i wanted to have significant news to share instead of just "haven't tapped in yet" and while it's true that i haven't,, i've discovered a method that i'm really comfortable with and i honestly believe tonight is the night !!

so i start off w this meditation which is meant to make you feel like you're floating (sound familiar ?) and then i have this theta track queued to play right after !! i do my best to maintain the feeling i got from the meditation while the track is playing and the next part is arguably the most important for me.

i'm someone who,, by nature,, is always looking into the deeper meaning of things and possible results / effects and how things tie into other things so it's always been a little difficult to affirm stuff like "i am pure consciousness" to help tap into the void bc my mind automatically starts bringing up a bunch of questions,, so i brought states into it.

i'm not sure how it happened,, i kind of just ended up there and i can say without a doubt that i'm really glad i did. i believe in the idea that we are all pure consciousness expressing ourselves in a human form and because of that affirming that i was pure consciousness always made me a bit skeptical bc what exactly was the difference between being pure consciousness while tapping into the void and being pure consciousness in my everyday life ? (and yes you could say that the word 'pure' was capable of being a differentiator but that didn't really do it for me). this brought me back to a conversation i had w myself yesterday that really helped me have a strong position on the nature of my being.

to myself,, i am everything and to others,, i am human but regardless of all that,, i am in truth pure consciousness (take a shot every time i use this phrase 😭). i remembered coming to this conclusion and after that,, this edward art post came to mind (i've literally never read his stuff before LMAO). specifically the part where he mentions that when neville was imagining himself back in new york the outer world didn't exist (or smth along those lines). this really resonated w me and i couldn't help but draw a connection between forgetting about the outer world and the void.

now this is where states come in. armed with everything i'd learned the previous day i was finally able to create the difference i'd been searching for; as opposed to affirming "i am pure consciousness" i began to affirm "i am in the state of pure consciousness" which,, for me,, entailed not only completely disregarding the outer world but also truly embodying the truth of my existence. in addition to this,, i now think my day-to-day can be summarized by the affirmation "i am in the state of pure consciousness in human form".

this might sound silly and look like overcomplicating to a lot of people but to me it actually really simplified things for me and helped me create peace w so much. this isn't really meant to be an advice post so i'm sorry if you don't get what i'm saying. i'm just putting my personal experience out there but i'd be glad to talk about it in dms w any of you !!

one way or another,, my next post will be my success story so look out for that 💪🏼

#law of assumption #void #void state #edward art #manifestation #neville goddard #subliminals #void success #void success story #states

86 notes · View notes

taz-ma-raz-skylar · 2 months

Text

Taz Skylar on training his body and cooking skills ahead of One Piece Season 2!

Taz Skylar was met with an overwhelmingly warm welcome from One Piece fans at the 2024 MEFCC

By Sarah Kuleib ( February 15, 2024 )

Every pirate crew needs a cook. With a captain like Monkey D Luffy, whose ship seems to sail to the sounds of his stomach, finding a cook who could whip up the most delicious bowl of fried rice to join the Straw Hat Pirates was pretty high on his priority list. Luffy finds his cook in Sanji, and Netflix’s smash hit One Piece finds their Sanji in Taz Skylar.

When the Spanish-British-Lebanese Olivier Award-nominated actor was announced to be playing the romantic chef, Sanji, in Netflix’s live-action adaptation of One Piece, Skylar was catapulted to international stardom.

Skylar and his co-star Iñaki Godoy (Luffy), were recently in Abu Dhabi for the 12th edition of the Middle East Film and Comic Con (MEFCC), where they were met by thousands of passionate fans in straw hats queuing up for hours to take photographs, get autographs, and witness the pair’s charming interactions at panel discussions.

Esquire Middle East sat down with Taz Skylar at the MEFCC to discuss his intense stunt training, Season 2 of One Piece, and what’s in store for the rest of 2024.

–

ESQ: You’re a man of many titles: actor, screenwriter, thrill-seeker, professional surfboard creator. What drew you to each of those things and how do they come together to inform one another in your career and life?

TAZ: I was a really shy kid and I never used to leave home much. Thrill-seeking, I used to see it in movies and I thought “Oh that would be cool!” Surfing was the first thing that I did. I remember the first time I got in the water with a surfboard and a wave hit me – it wasn’t even very big but I was little, and I was like “Ahhh!”, and I got out [of the water]. The guy who was teaching me – he was called Juanito, and he’s still my friend today, 15 years later – was like “What are you doing man? Get in!” He grabbed me, put me back on the board, and pushed me out and that changed my life that day. That was the gateway. I got into other scary stuff and I would get angry at being scared. So if I was scared I would be like, “Cool, now there’s no choice, now you gotta do it.” That kind of spiraled and now it’s just a thing that I do.

Writing and acting… well, acting was an accident.

ESQ: A happy one?

TAZ: It was a happy accident! I’m very happy about it! I only like acting when I like the thing I’m acting in; nobody likes acting when they don’t like the thing they’re acting in! So, I only act in things that I like – at least now, I’ve definitely made that choice – and I always like what I’m writing. I want to make films, I want to make shows. Being in them is a cool part of it, but I want to make stuff. In a world where financial security is there, I don’t find much point to life other than leaving a legacy I can be proud of, and I think that can achieved by making stuff.

ESQ: There’s a different joy in filmmaking and writing.

TAZ: Yeah, yeah! You feel resolved in what you’re doing and connected. You have some sort of choice over what it can say or what the outcome can be. One Piece in particular was really cool because Matt and the whole team were really good to us in terms of saying “What do you want to do with it? What do you want to bring to it?” and that’s not always the case. When I do a writer’s room with other writers, my thinking is like: What do you like? Do you want to sit on a chair? A yoga mat? Do you want to bob around on a skateboard? What makes you most creative? Because whatever it is, do that thing. That’s the kind of environment I want to create and be a part of. When a film or show or play has been made in that way, you can feel it, you can feel that it’s been made very rag-tag.

ESQ: On the topic of One Piece, how did you prepare for the role of Sanji – mentally and physically, I know you did all of your own stunts – and with season 2 confirmed, is there anything you learned that will inform or change how you prepare for season 2?

TAZ: Ooh… yeah I did all my own stunts! Part of how I prepared for it… I really went psychopathic on it. Like, let’s throw absolutely everything we possibly can at the wall because we don’t have much to stick right now, we’re starting from zero.

It was 4 hours of training in the morning, then I’d cook a dish we needed to do for the show, repeat that dish over and over again, another 4 hours, then we’d go to the sauna and stretch, they’d pull on my legs and push on my back. That made me improve really quick but what it also did was decimate my legs. I have scar tissue on the inside of my ligaments and it took me about a year to feel like I could land on my legs without pain – I used to duct-tape my legs! I had to be quiet about it so they’d let me do my own stunts.

There was no real way of improving whilst not hurting myself because of how far we needed to go. Whereas for the second season, because I’ve maintained my level and haven’t stopped training ever since– I trained this morning with Iñaki at the UFC gym [in Abu Dhabi]! Iñaki came with me to a kickboxing session and he’s gotten so good at tricking in between the seasons too! So, because we’re kind of at a level that we’ve maintained, the second season for me is about how much quicker I can be. There are not many new kicks or moves to learn, so it’s more about how great we can make those moves. Part of it is going: instead of training 8 hours today, I’m going to train 4 and focus on choreography. Or maybe today I’m just going to do 2 and then stretch, because the less injured everything is, the quicker everything moves.

So for season 2, I want to enjoy it more, and I want to make what we had a lot better… and I want [to do] the party table kick.

ESQ: Was there a specific stunt that was the most difficult to do?

TAZ: Yeah! So there was this one where we jump over a pool, kick the Fishman mid-air, and land on a little rock. And that was all practicals! It was so difficult to do because he was underwater and they had to time pulling him out of the water at the exact same time that I jumped, and landing at the same place so that I could kick, and then there was another wire pull that took him to the other side of the pool. That must’ve taken an hour and a half which doesn’t sound like that much, but we were up against time. I remember thinking: “If we don’t get this, they’re going to cut it. They’re going to cut the stunt and this stunt will never exist.” It was the last take where we just managed it and they all looked at it and went “Cool, we got it! We can keep it!”, and we just started cheering. Isn’t it mad to think that there’s a world in which half an hour would’ve made the difference between it existing and not existing?

ESQ: Now, I must ask… how do you really feel about Oregano?

TAZ: [Laughs] Ha! I love it! I put it on salads! It’s not for savages! It’s nice – have oregano it’s good for you!

ESQ: Who and what are some of your personal influences as an artist?

TAZ: Florian Zeller is my favorite writer. Rappers are my favorite poets. I like old films. Keanu Reeves in Point Break made me want to skydive and surf and jump out of planes. I love Bond. My dad loves Bond, we used to have a box set. I love the way those films are made. I just worked with Martin Campbell who made two of my favorite Bond films.

ESQ: What’s in store for Taz Skylar this year?

TAZ: I’ve got four TV shows in development, with different production companies. One of which is called Seesaw which made a lot of Florian Zeller’s films that I’m really excited about! I don’t have that much time until we go shoot [One Piece] again. There’s a book I’m trying really hard to get the rights to and adapt, so I’m chasing the author about that. I’m going to try and see if I can get all of those things done before I go shoot again.

https://www.esquireme.com/culture/interviews/taz-skylar-on-training-his-body-and-cooking-skills-ahead-of-one-piece-season-2

#taz skylar

20 notes · View notes

thealogie · 3 months

Note

we were busy pacing through london in circles for hours in order to process hour experience so we haven't shared the excitement yet, but here goes a quick rambling before bed time (after all donmarwarehouse-official correspondents ate due to queue at 2pm again tomorrow and report live from the ground 🫡🫡🫡)

hello??? hello??? I have to say as an ex film student who doesn't actually know a lot and hasn't actually seen a lot of theater I have extensive thoughts on the cinematic style of this production especially from a visual and sound design perspective but those are for later.

right now I can just say that I had a religious experience of sonder about mr tennant during the first few scenes. he sprinted past me less than half a meter away four times. we made an unholy amount of eye contact and one of his monologues had an eyeline basically right next to my face so i felt stared at while my chin was wobbling and i was tearing up. in my section I was person 2 to join in a standing ovation and we successfully pressured two stalls sections entirely into getting their asses off their seats (meanwhile maggie service and rob wilkins were the only people in their section to join in 🥺). the macbeths were so sexy. what the fuck is cush jumbos deal she is so good. i got goosebumps literally so many times. at times i put one of my headphones into a really funky halfway position and I think that was a cool mix of live voices and the very cool things they've done with the audio. the I'm scrambling to fix or at least hide something I can never undo and I'm going mad in the process themes hit me unexpectedly hard. the amount of empathy and emotion pretty much all of the characters evoked in me is staggering.

also you were right queuing is so fun nothing beats the adrenaline rush of getting tickets and nothing beats seeing people ten spots down the queue inside the theatre and just congratulating each other half an hour later.

donmarwarehouse-official correspondent peanut number 2 is signing off for the evening. back to the studio

Really incredible stuff. I felt so similarly about feeling intense emotion and empathy for every character!! ugh thank you for this it really gave me the second-hand high I was craving. Incredible reporting. See you again tomorrow!

22 notes · View notes

demetris-cocksleeve · 10 months

Text

(A/n: I saw this one rp asmr audio on yt and thought it would be cute to put my own spin on it with Ojiro; Full credit to Navillus ASMR on YouTube!!)

(A/n: This is probably the sweetest thing I've ever written😢)

@makethiscanon

Summary- First kiss with Mashirao

Word Count: 2,779

Warnings: First Kisses, Self-Doubt, Comfort, Mention of 'Where the Red Fern Grows' (yes that movie needs a warning iykyk)

Age Rating: None

Ojiro Mashirao x Fem! Reader: "May I?"

------------------

You hear a sniffle from your left.

"Are you crying, Mashi?" There's a nonstop river of tears streaming down your face accompanied by a watery nose, so it's not like you have any room to talk.

"I- No! I am not crying; I don't know what you're talking about..."

Mashirao glances at you only to see the lifted brow and the failed attempt at suppressing the smirk you're giving him. The movie's credits are rolling as if it didn't just drop the saddest scenes in history in the past few minutes.

"I'm totally fine," he chuckles with another sniffle.

Doing your best to lift your eyebrow impossibly higher, you hit him with an "Mhm..."

"Stop looking at me like that." He teasingly pushes at your legs that are spread across the couch to stretch over his lap. "I'm fine with sad people stuff in movies, but as soon as an animal is involved-"

He dramatically cuts himself off with a hand to his chest as he plays dead. Your eyes don't leave him as you reach for the popcorn bowl on the table. Still dead. Popping some pieces into your mouth, you decide to chuck one at him.

The kernel bounces off his chest without so much as a twitch from your boyfriend. So, naturally, you throw another. And another. And-

"Throw another one and see what happens." He finally opens an eye level you with a glance. Your hand is still poised and ready to launch the popcorn. If he wants to dare you, you'll be more than happy to fulfill his request.

So, you let it fly.

The popped corn hits him in the cheek and immediately the air is knocked from your lungs.

"Hey! Uf-" He plops his massive tail right on your stomach.

"Not fair!" You try to push it off you to no avail. You can't really be surprised. It's basically pure muscle; it's not moving until he says so.

Unfazed, Mashirao merely tosses the popcorn back at you, smacking you between the eyes with unfair accuracy. "Why did you invite me over? Just to scar me with sad puppies and to assault me with salty snacks?"

"Pretty much, yeah," you've accepted your now trapped fate, resigning yourself to play with his tail's fluff.

You had invited him to your house for a movie night, knowing damn well what you were doing when you queued up 'Where the Red Fern Grows'. Sure, you're crying too, but a win is a win.

"That's cruel even for you, Y/n- Invite me over just to watch me cry." He pinches your calf before continuing, "Just wanted to see your boyfriend weep?"

"It's not my fault you're such an easy target," You laugh, trying to yank your legs to safety.

"I'm sad now..." He lets out a fake cry, "No! Doggy~"

"Oh no! Not the puppies!" You throw your head back as you let out your own fake cry, the previous tears on your face helping to sell your act.

"Woah- Hold up! Look at you~ You're a mess," he's fully cackling now, "compared to me! I just teared up a bit- you were full sobbing!"

Not expecting to tables to get turned you attempt to sit up. Luckily, Mashirao gives you mercy and shifts his tail to rest in your lap instead.

"I was not!"

"Were too~ You're not even trying to hide it!"

Sticking your tongue out like a child is the only acceptable response, so that's what you do.

"Aw~ Would a hug make it better?~"

"WOulD A hUg MaKE iT BEtTeR?" At this point your arms are crossed, fully slipping into the role of a petulant child. Are you still sad over the movie? Yes. But are you still going to be petty? Yep.

He only laughs again. "Do you want a hug?~"

One last eyebrow raise and thousand-yard stare aimed at your partner has you conceding. "Kinda..."

Ever infuriating, Mashirao asks: "What was that baby?"

You purse your lips with an unheated glare before responding.

"Yeah."

"C'mere," he lifts his tail, opening his arms for you to climb into.

You bury your face into his chest, the soft fabric of his hoodie mixes with his warm, coffee and vanilla scent to wrap around you in the most comforting blanket you can imagine.

"It's okay- The doggos were acting, They're okay," Mashirao gently rocks the both of you until you drop a bombshell on him.

"This was made in the 70s, they're dead..."

"I-"

Taking his stunned silence as an opportunity, you wipe your drying tears on his hoodie.

"Wha- Hey! Are you wiping your snot on my hoodie!?" He tries to pull away, but your arms only tighten their hold.

"No, I'm not!" Your voice is muffled but you don't want to move.

"Get your face out of my hoodie, you heathen!" Luckily, your positions are keeping him from prying your head away.

"I'm not wiping anything on you, you bitch!" You laugh, definitely wiping a bit of snot on him.

The sudden name-calling makes him throw his head back as he tries to hold back a laugh. "Get. Out. Of. There!"

You pop up to stare him down again only to be closer than anticipated to his face. Your own laughter dies in your throat as you let out a small, "oh."

Mashirao's eyes go wide, and a blush crawls up his cheeks at the proximity. You know you're no better; you can feel the heat emitting from your own flushed face.

His eyes flicker down to your lips, staring for a second before he meets your gaze again.

"Hi..."

This is bad. Very bad.

No. Not bad.

But scary. Very, very scary.

Are you ready for this? On the one hand, you do want to kiss him. Words can't express how much you do. On the other hand, you've never kissed anyone before. You don't know what you're doing.

'Are you ready?' Are you crazy? No, you're not ready!'

With speed that could rival Iida, you're back on your side of the couch. You bring your knees up to your chest, deciding that the separation between the couch cushions is the most interesting thing you've seen all night.

"Hey- Are you okay? What's wrong?" Mashirao reaches out to you but pulls back when you instinctively flinch. "Baby?"

"I'm sorry..."

"What happened?"

You glance at him only to return your gaze to the cushions. The genuine concern in his eyes makes you feel even worse about how you reacted.

"I got scared..."

You see him shift in the corner of your eye. "You got scared? What of?"

"Being so close... It felt like we were going to kiss and I freaked out." There's no use lying, it would only cause more harm than good.

The room falls quiet for a second. God, you've ruined everything, haven't you? Who freaks out like that over a kiss?

"Did..." Mashirao finally speaks, "Did you not want to kiss me?"

The slight hurt in his voice kills you. You managed to bag the sweetest, perfect guy, and you've made him think he's unkissable. Great job, as always, Y/n.

"I did, that's what scared me." You rest your cheek on your knees, finally facing him again. "I've never... I've never kissed anyone..."

"Never?"

"Never," you shake your head. "Isn't that embarrassing? I'm a grown-ass woman who hasn't had my first kiss."

The laugh you let out is nothing short of self-deprecating.

"Why would that be embarrassing?" Why does he have to be so sweet all the time? Him asking you with such genuine curiosity is making you realize how silly this all is.

"I don't know; everybody else had theirs back in middle or high school and I'm sitting here like the world's biggest prude."

"No, you're not." There's a serious note to his voice that wasn't there a second ago.

"While it's not the biggest deal in the world, it's still a big step in a relationship. There's nothing wrong with not doing it yet, whether it's because you haven't been with anyone you deemed worthy or because you were focusing on other things in your life. You're supposed to take things like this at your own pace."

You try to find the words to respond but the only thing that manages to squeeze out is his name. "Mashirao..."

All of a sudden his eyes light up.

"I have an idea!" He twists in his seat to fully face you, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged with his tail hooking over his shoulder. "If you're comfortable doing it, of course."

"And what's that?"

"We could play the "May I" game; it's kinda like firetruck or red light," You cringe a bit at that. Memories of "Firetrucks don't stop at red lights" fill your head.

Seeing your reaction, Mashirao seems to realize what was wrong with that analogy, "Without the ignoring of consent, that is!

"You ask the other person "May I ___" and, if they say yes, do that thing. It's to help with exploring boundaries and getting comfortable being closer." Despite the rocky start of the explanation, you've got to admit, it's kind of piquing your curiosity.

You shift to sit crisscross as well. "Okay, let's do it. How do we start?"

A comforting smile breaks across his face. "Is it okay if I go first?"

You know he won't jump straight into anything extreme so you nod.

"Okay. May I hold your hand?"

You let out a puff of air you didn't know you were holding. "Yeah. Yeah, that's fine."

He reaches across the space to grab your hand. His thumb rubs calming circles on the back of your hand. "It's your turn."

"Um..." Not sure what to ask, you go with the first thing to come to mind, "May I put my hand on your cheek?"

Your face feels so hot you could fry an egg on it. The eye smile he gives you doesn't help.

"You may."

Your hand is shaking a bit as you reach out. You watch as Mashirao's eyes shut when you make contact; he leans into your touch, letting out a sigh when you slide it down to his jaw.

"May I kiss your hand?"

You nod, then, realizing his eyes are still closed, you say, "Yes."

And so, he does. His lips are soft against your palm when he turns his head. It leaves you wondering how they'll feel against your own.

"My turn?" You ask.

He hums in approval.

Curious to see if he's as nervous as you, you ask, "May I move my hand to your chest?"

His eyes fly back open to stare at you. "I-"

Did you move too fast? Was that a weird ask?

Overrun by your thoughts, all you can do is apologize.

"No, yes! I mean-" He takes a breath to collect himself. "No, don't apologize and yes, you can; I was just surprised..." He scratches the back of his neck as he looks to the side.

He looks back at you once he finishes gathering himself.

You slide your hand down to his chest, stopping at his heart. Sure enough, it seems to be going just as fast as your own. "Your turn."

Clearing his throat, Mashirao asks, "May I hug you?"

"You may." You smile; this isn't bad. It's more intimate than you thought it would be, but you like it.

You shuffle over to him, sliding back into his arms like you never left. You hook your chin on his shoulder, content to breathe him in for a second. For a while, neither of you moves, happy to just bask in each other's presence. You're glad for the break, needing to steel yourself for your next question.

You take a final drag of his cologne and speak.

"May I sit in your lap?

"You wanna sit in my lap?" When you nod, he answers.

"Yeah, that's okay." You can feel his heart hammering against yours.

"Here," he pulls away a bit to help you shift into his lap. "Yeah, there; Just- Put your knees on either side of me."

Once situated, his arms wrap back around your waist and you lay your head back on his shoulder. His tail wraps around you to add extra support to your hips.

"May I kiss your cheek?" His voice rumbles your chest.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you nod. "Yeah."

Turning his head, Mashirao gently tucks a finger under your chin to tilt your cheek towards him. The kiss is brief, lasting only as long as he dared to let it. Your eyes sting a bit from how tender he's being.

Before he's fully pulled back, you ask, "May I kiss your cheek?"

"You may," he breathes.

"Close your eyes..." You're not sure you can settle your nerves enough to do this if he's looking at you that softly.

He lets out a small chuckle but complies, nonetheless.

You start to lean forward but stop to place your hand over his eyes. Just to be sure. When you finally make contact, you feel more than hear his sharp intake of breath. You only hold the kiss for a couple of seconds but it feels much longer.

"Was that alright?" You pull your hand away as he opens his eyes.

"'Was that alright?' It was more than alright. The girl I love just kissed me..."

You both freeze as you register what he just said. "You love me?"

"I'm sorry- I- I didn't mean to say that... You're already on edge and now I'm dropping the L word... God, I'm so stupid!"

"It's okay, 'Rao... I," you hesitate to finish your thought. 'He's been doing nothing but comforting you. It doesn't matter if you're embarrassed, just say it!' "I liked that you said it..."

And your face is back in his hoodie. Unfortunately for you, that means you're not seeing the breathtaking smile that he gives you.

"May I kiss you?" His voice is hushed, like what he's saying is only meant for your ears.

Here it is... The question you've both been building up to.

"You can." You don't make a move though, too nervous to think properly.

What if you're bad at kissing? Or you have bad breath?

"You're gonna have to let me see that pretty face, then," Mashirao's gentle teasing stops you from spiraling too far into your Olympic-sized swimming pool of self-doubt.

Tentatively, you raise your head from his chest, trying to prepare yourself for what's about to happen. Your hands are gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline.

Mashirao's hand comes up to cup your cheek, a comforting smile on his face as he gives you a second to ready yourself.

"Are you ready?" His breath fans across your face. The hand still on your back soothes over your nerves with each brush to your spine. You loosen your hold, bringing a hand up to the one on your cheek so you can lightly clutch his wrist.

"As I'll ever be," You return his consoling smile with a nervous one.

Slowly, to give you time to pull away should you change your mind, Mashirao leans in. He pauses a hair's breadth away. When you don't draw back, he closes the gap.

Your lips brush together with the intensity of a flicker of a butterfly's wing. Your eyes flutter shut and your hand tightens around his wrist. You're sure you could pass a polygraph test with how certain you are that your heart skipped a beat. You can't help the stuttered gasp that leaves you as he pulls away.

You swallow. That really just happened...

Without opening your eyes, you ask: "May I kiss you?"

You can feel his arm tighten around you. "Yes."

This time, when your lips collide, there's more desperation. The sliding of your lips together sends waves of euphoria and love crashing over you. You can't believe you've been missing out on this feeling; though, something tells you that it's only because it's Mashirao that you're feeling this way.

Your hands move to his hair, clutching at the soft strands with a fervor you didn't know you had. A noise akin to a whimper bubbles up your throat as you lift yourself to try and get closer.

All too soon, you have to break away to catch your breath. Neither of you moves as your foreheads rest together, content to breath each other in.

"Wow..." It's Mashirao who breaks the silence.

"Wow," you echo, licking your lips. God... You can still taste him on your lips.

"Hey, Mashi?" He hums in answer.

"I love you too."

-end

#ojiro mashirao x reader #mashirao ojiro x reader #ojiro x reader #ojiro mashirao fluff #my hero academia x reader #mha x you

73 notes · View notes

fallenclan · 6 months

Note

How do you keep track of all the cats? I’ve been looking at clan gen blogs but it seems overwhelming to keep track of so many characters.

How do you know which interactions are important enough to note. I know romance, death, kits and new clan cats are notable but beyond that it seems hard?

Is your play session one moon at a time? Or are you able to do multiple moons?

Hopefully this is not too much at once I’m just hoping to get a bit of advice ig

no problem! not too much at once at all lol

for keeping track of all the cats, i don't find it too difficult just because i spend so much time with them--drawing them, writing little bits, thinking about relationship dynamics and family trees and such. for people who aren't as autistic about them as i am, i imagine its very difficult to keep track lmao. best suggestion i'd have if you're having trouble with your own cats is just to have a document with their name, maybe a brief description, and a few bits of lore. for instance: "Goldenstar (long furred golden tabby tom) - mate [Morningbloom] died in childbirth, was made deputy at a young age, was leader for most of his life" stuff like that!

for interactions, its mostly a personal preference thing. obviously i show favoritism to my cats and so i'll draw more interactions involving them. or if i see an interaction between two cats that aren't my favorites, but the interaction is interesting, i'll draw it! or if it's something like, say, otterslip and stormsight not getting along, i'll hop back a couple moons (i usually have a few posts queued up) and sneak in a few negative interactions, just so that the crux of the relationship (in this case, murder) doesn't come out of left field. i also draw patrols that are interesting to me, and (as i've mentioned before) usually avoid drawing every time a cat gets a sprain or a runny nose. if i did that, i would be so burnt out lmao, i usually only draw serious injuries like a broken back or clawed eyes

my play sessions! personally, i have a little rule that i need to have (at least) 3 drawings per post. they don't have to be extensive drawings, but i like to have them, so i just do as many moons as is necessary. sometimes i'll just have one moon per post, other times 3, or even more if one or two of the moons doesn't have any interesting events! i try not to skip ahead any further than one full post, because personally, if i see All That Stuff i have to draw with no gameplay in between, it'll intimidate me into not drawing at all. i encourage you to try out what works for You, though, bc what works for me won't work for everyone :)

have fun! lmk if i can help with anything else

#fallenasks

29 notes · View notes

sparklitive-sonya · 5 months

Text

Because of the whole JO queuing thing, I was reminded by the one time I saw with my own eyes glimpse into very extreme queuing culture that went way too far and became unsafe for everyone. I just felt like I should maybe tell this story, cause maybe we should all be reminded to take it easy. If you have been to a concert of massively successful artist with crazy fans this is probably nothing new to you, but I still think about this sometimes cause it still feels insane to me.

This was back when MCR was on tour for Danger days. Me and my dad arrive at the venue and it turns out, folks had been queuing there for A WEEK in advance. Mind you, this was in Finland, in the middle of WINTER. There was snow on the ground and it kept snowing throughout the week. I remember when we were finally let in to the venue, I had to hop over just heaps of... stuff. Garbage bags full of take out meal trash, blankets, sleeping bags, winter coats. Some people had abandoned their packbags full of stuff! And I am not exaggerating when I say it was almost impossible to not step on it. Insane fans desperate to get to the barricade had left all of this for people working at the venue to clean up, without giving a shit.

We finally get to the main hall, waiting for the show to start. Some minutes before, a person working at the venue comes to the stage and speaks to the mic: "Hello everyone, welcome. I have to ask you to please take it easy today. Especially everyone here near the front, do not push, do not dance too hard. There are people at the front here who are in quite weak condition and not doing too well. We don't want to take anyone to the hospital, thank you."

As you can probably guess, a lot of people at the first row had fallen ill because they had QUEUED FOR A WEEK. IN THE MIDDLE OF WINTER. IN FINLAND.

I was only a young teen back then but even then I remember thinking what the fuck is the point here?? Like there's no way in hell that at that point you are even having fun?? And on the top of it you are inconveniencing others and making extra work for the people working the venue.

I honestly have no idea if queuing like this is even allowed in Finland or anywhere else anymore, it was such a long time ago. But yeah pls people, be considerate to others and take care of your health. If I was an artist, I sure as hell would not wanna perform for a front row full of sick and tired people. And respect the people working at the venue, cause without them there would not be a concert for you to go to!

#i still feel kinda uncomfy about huge concerts bcause of this and avoid them mostly #personal

16 notes · View notes

1000roughdrafts · 2 months

Text

Happy Valentine's Day!

Hi everyone :) I have missed you all so much! I have been kicking myself these last two years for being gone for so long. Not only did I feel like I was letting y'all down, I felt like I was letting myself down. Writing is my biggest passion, and I felt like I abandoned it, and you. For context, before I left, I had Covid pretty bad, and am now suffering from long-term effects with my health because of it (that are thankfully more under control now). After having Covid I left a toxic relationship to unwittingly enter another, even more toxic and controlling relationship (whew is that a story!) and I learned that I have ADHD! (How fun is that!)

Anyway, to everyone that's still following me,

No seriously, thank you for sticking around!!

I have been working on some stuff for the last few months that I am so excited to share with y'all!

A few hours after this post will be a little Valentine's Day fluff fic to come out. Then in the coming weeks, I have a song inspired DeanxReader fic to be coming out labeled If You're Gonna Lie, and the following requests (under the read more with snippets of the fic) ready right now, to be queued. The requests will be coming out first, and then my own idea fics.

If you're interested in updating the tag list (whether that is adding your url, removing it or checking for accuracy) click here :) Next fic to be posted February 28th so if you want to update the tag list, be sure to do so before then :)

"Yes! Why does everyone keep asking me if I'm okay!" she growls, "first my dad, then John, now you!" She throws her hand onto her stomach to try to push away the pain. Sam is taken aback by this, and that's when he notices that her hand is held tightly on her stomach. Suddenly, it all makes sense. Sam is confident that this isn't Y/N, that Y/N is in there somewhere, fighting to be free from whatever demon is possessing her.

I hear my name in Dean's voice from a distance, but I'm surrounded by total darkness. I try so hard with all of my might to tell him I'm here, that it's okay, but the words don't come. Just as it takes all of my strength to open my eyes, but they burn. Everything burns. I don't even try to suppress the scream that bellows out of me. Taking as deep of a breath as I can, I'm scared for myself when it sounds and feels like I'm breathing a water and air mixture. "What's happening?" I manage to say, but Dean puts a finger to my lips. "No, no," he soothes, "no, just don't talk. It's okay," he says so gently, and as he maneuvers me into his lap I cry out in agonizing pain. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says, then his voice switches into a shaky, fear filled yell for Castiel that hurts my heart almost as much as my wound hurts.

Y/N always felt like she had big shoes to fill, being third born after two boys. She never really formed a bond with John like the eldest Winchester had, despite her best efforts to impress the man. Her next role model was Dean, who became more of a father to her than John ever could be. Up until her eleventh birthday Dean did her hair into pigtails, partly because he didn’t know how to do any other hair style, but mostly because he thought it was the cutest on her. He’d pack her and Sam’s lunch with snacks he’d bought from vending machines and even pretend to take her on hunts because he knew how eager she was to be just like him. When she wasn’t learning about monsters and guns with Dean, she was spending her time with Sam. He’d help her with her homework, or play board and card games. They had as much in common as Y/N and Dean, neither Sam nor Y/N got along with John, and neither really knew their mothers.

Speaking of requests, I'll leave them open for now but I can't promise all will be fulfilled as I try to get my groove. My schedule as I get back into things, I think, will be one fic every other week.

I also updated my master lists and will be posting them later today, to then put them all in one master master list lol

Thank you all for still being here and I hope you like what will be coming out soon :)

Current PermaTags @waywardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover78 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks @sigrunsavestheday @flamencodiva

Dean @akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-from-outer-space @ellewritesfix05 @cluz1babe @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone @idksupernaturl @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyygirl

Sam @fangirlxwritesx67 @tlovescoffee @immafangirlmess @sizekinkshawty

#supernatural fan fic #writer #spn fandom #spn #bug update

8 notes · View notes

deathbecomesthem · 1 month

Text

Crawling to the Finish | Part 3 | 7K

Eddie Munson x Fem!Disabled!Reader

*This is a completed series that is queued and will be released on the dates below. This Masterlist will be updated with each part that is released.

+18 ONLY | MDNI

Warnings: There will be lots of descriptions of medical stuff. The reader is physically disabled due to an undefined accident. Major bone trauma. Lots of talk about pain. Blood donation, scars, and fainting in this part. There is SMUT in this part. (Boobs, oral sex, and other back of the van stuff you might expect.)

Summary: You see the surgeon and spiral. Maybe Eddie can help.

A/N: The physical disability described in this series are my own. The experiences are very close to what my own. Be kind.

---

“OK, Honey, if you could just twist your hips – here let me help you –“ the radiologist is twisting your hips in a way that immediately starts the ache. Your teeth are clenching at the pain. “Just hold that for a minute,” her purple scrubs are making a swishing sound as she steps behind the barrier, “Deep breath in, and hold it.”

Your expanded lungs burn along with the vibrating ache coming from hips and radiating up your waist and down your leg. These moments are torture - when you can’t get yourself into a position that alleviates the pain. It feels so personal, as if the radiologist is out to make the experience as painful as possible while moving around you with unhurried mundanity.

“Just four more positions and we’ll get you in to see Dr. Greene.” You withhold an angry scoff. Just 4 more, maybe we should see how you like it, you stupid bitch.

You say nothing, you do as your told, letting the rage simmer inside. You know you’ll find an outlet for it later.

The appointment goes exactly how you knew it would. Dr. Greene barely looks at your x rays, and tells you he’s ready to schedule a total hip replacement as soon as possible. Because your hip is well and truly fucked, and it needs to be burned with all of the other medical waste that comes out of the hospital.

The most surprising part of your trip to the surgeon is how fast they want to get you in for surgery. 2 weeks. It will barely be enough time to get the insurance preapproval in place. It’s an indication that things are as bad as they feel. Because sometimes you feel pathetic. You look in the mirror and see your dark circles, hollowed cheeks, blood drained face and think you should be able to handle this better. No one else in your life has to live like this, why are you so broken?

Broken. Broken. Broken. Empty. Tired. Angry. The building frustration is beginning to simmer inside, and you know it’s going to be roiling in no time, as your mom starts audibly listing everything that needs to happen in the next few weeks to be ready for the cutting through layers of skin and fat, and sawing away at your femur.

“… We have to make sure the school is on board with keeping you on track for graduation.” You’ve been trying to tune her out, avoid a stupid argument, “Do you think you can talk to your teachers about getting together absent work for you?”

“Uh-huh” Your mom’s rusty old Civic is bumping it’s way on to the Hawkins’ exit ramp, but your mind is gone to another place. It’s already laying in a hospital bed holding onto a morphine pump, feeling dizzy and nauseous. It’s in physical therapy, biting your lip so hard with anger that you taste blood. It’s in the operating room with the smell of latex taking over every sense as you breath in the “happy gas” that makes you feel detached from your body. You can’t think about school. Not now.

You pass Hawkins High on your way back to your little house, and your mom gives your hand a squeeze. You’re too numb to care about the intrusion of personal space. You can feel yourself pulling away, building up the walls you know you’ll need to protect yourself from everyone around you for the next month. It’s too hard. Disappointment on top of the pain is too much. Distance. Distance. Distance.

---

“Sweetie, Eddie’s on the phone for you.” The clock reads 3:30, and you knew when the phone rang who it would be.

“Tell him I’m asleep.” You don’t wait for her to answer, you roll your back to her and cling to your Pillow Pet, closing your eyes to the world. You imagine being wrapped up in Eddie’s arms right now while he combs his fingers through your hair and whispers that “it’s ok, you’re ok” and you feel hot tears stinging your eyes. No, you don’t want him here for this part. It’s too dark for him here.

You sleep on through, the weight of the upcoming days too much for you. You let it push you deep into the recliner and dream about – what was it? A tornado you think, tearing through the house and scattering the pieces of your life all over the front yard. You get caught in it, and you can feel the force of the thing tearing at your body, pulling you apart limb by limb. The sound of your own scream wakes you up. You find yourself whole, but your leg is throbbing with pain. You had slept too long, so you change your position, moving cautiously. The clock reads 7, and you just want to sleep through the next two weeks, let it be over.

---

You eat lasagna wordlessly while your mom fills the silence. This is how it goes. She can’t bear the quiet. The guilt and annoyance you feel are always present, just eating away at you.

“I called your father to let him know about your surgery. He and Sun are going to be with me at the hospital.” Your father had left your mother a few years ago to be with one of his co-workers. For the most part, they kept you out of it, but you couldn’t be nice to his new wife. Since you turned 18, you’d stopped seeing him altogether.

“They don’t need to be there.” Your tone makes you cringe inwardly, but it’s impossible for you to not cop an attitude about this.

“Well, I want them there, and they want to be there. He’s your dad.” She tries so hard to make the situation ok for everyone. You’ve never seen her speak an angry word about them, even though she’s heard you say some truly awful things about them.

“Whatever. Fine. I’ll be too drugged up to notice anyway.” Your mind flashes to snippets of past post recovery scenes that never fully come into focus for you.

“Dr. Greene says you’ll only be in the hospital for 2 nights, isn’t that great? You’ll up and moving right away. I can’t believe it.” She’s been wholly unable to withhold her desperate hope for a positive result.

“Yeah? Well, I’ll believe it when I see it.” No false hope for you.

“You’ve got to have a positive attitude about this. There’s absolutely no reason for you to think this will go badly.” She was right, of course, but you can’t live with that kind of disappointment anymore.

So, you sit quietly and eat while she details pre-op appointments, including a blood donation. Tomorrow morning, you would be late for school, making the drive out to the Red Cross clinic. Should you call Eddie and tell him? Yes, but you’re not going to. “I’m sleeping in my bed tonight. If Eddie calls, tell him I’m asleep.” Your mom just shakes her head and sighs.

He calls one more time that evening, and you can hear your mom whispering something to him over the line. You can’t find it in yourself to care. You imagine it’s something along the lines of, “sorry my daughter is a raging bitch, but we all have to live with it.” You hope she tells him you’ll be out in the morning so he doesn’t worry, but make no effort to makes sure she does.

Your stubbornness is unexplainable, even to yourself. You see the self-destructiveness in your behavior. You know you’re being unkind. You’re unreasonable. You want nothing more than to rest in the comfort of the people that you care about. You can’t. You’re too raw and the compassion chafes.

If he’s still around in a month and doesn’t hate you, assuming you’re not dead or irrevocably damaged from a failed procedure, you’ll make it up to him. You’ll make it up to everyone. They just need to let you be until then.

---

It goes poorly at the Red Cross. If there’s anything you’ve learned about your body over the years of disability is that it’s unpredictable and makes even the most simple things challenging. You’re borderline anemic, which ignites a thought in the back of your mind - it explains your irritability. Whether it’s a good decision or not, the phlebotomist has the go ahead from your surgeon to collect as much blood as possible anyway. It ends up being less than a half of a pint, and all you can do is hope it’s either not needed or enough if you do end up needing a transfusion.

When you get to school, you’re on the edge, and ready to absolutely lose it at the first provocation. Your mom had offered to take you home for the day, but in your stubbornness you refused.

“I thought that my education was the highest priority. Can’t possibly miss whatever wisdom Mr. Willis has to impart about Federalism today.” You’re being a bitch; you should go home. You’d eaten your cookies and drank your juice as directed. You wanted to go home, but for some reason, you wanted to needle at her more. Even if it ended up hurting you.

“Hey!” Your mom has had it with you, she’s stressed. She’s going through it with you, and she’s your only punching bag. “You need to get right, Girlie. I don’t care what you have to do, but this attitude isn’t helping anything. Knock it off with the angsty teenage bullshit for a second.”

You take a beat before responding, deciding whether to bite back or back down. This could turn into a full-blown screaming match if you wanted that, but you’re so tired. “Whatever. I’m fine. I’ll go to school.”

You both relent, tossing water on the fire rather than adding fuel. You can go to school, but she won’t let you drive. She asked if Eddie could drive you home. She has an appointment later. You bite back what you want to say, which is that you’d rather just walk home. You just tell her that, “sure, no problem. I’ll ask Eddie to take me home even though it would just be easier if I could drive myself.” Your mom practically growls at you in response.

---

Sometimes, punishing yourself felt right. That’s what you’re doing right now. Letting yourself be tortured by Mr. Willis rather than taking a break. Your life is full of breaks. Maybe it’s just the vague nausea from giving blood, but Mr. Willis’ classroom is extra rank today. You’re feeling lightheaded, and you will the feeling away. Most of the time your teachers remind you to leave your classes early, but Mr. Willis never does, and today you forget. Your brain is fogged over, and the harsh ringing of the bell jolts you in your seat.

You brought your crutches, you’ll use them as a walking aid through the school. The thought of free walking or relying on a cane until your surgery is exhausting, so you don’t think about it. You use the tools you have. You’re throwing your bag over your shoulders when you realize that Eddie didn’t come to help you. You shake your confused head, because why would he come to help if he didn’t even know you were back at school yet. You feel yourself slumping a little more than was normal, and the cacophony in the hallway is making your head spin. You feel a whooshing moving between your ears and know what’s about to happen, but there are too many people around for you to get low to the ground. You reach out to grab any arm close to you as your vision fades to black, back pushed against the lockers to avoid knocking your head on the hard linoleum when you hit the ground.

“…the nurse. She’ll be ok, just needs something to eat.” A familiar voice is bringing you back, but your eyelids are still heavy. You can feel cold sweat on your brow, and a deep sense of shame for something. You open your eyes and see a shaggy headed boy. His face comes into focus, and you know it’s Mike Wheeler, and he looks like he might piss himself. You force your arm up to wave so he knows you’re and doesn’t go running off to call for an ambulance or anything. The person speaking is Dustin, and he’s clearly trying to calm Mike down.

“See, she’s ok.” Dustin’s face comes into focus. He’s concerned, but not freaking out. He puts his hand on your arm where the bandage from giving blood is. “She must have given blood or something. Y/n, when was the last time you ate anything?”

“They gave me cookies.” You choke it out, but speaking has the effect of rousing you further, and you suddenly realize you just passed out in the hallway between classes. Oh good, more weirdo behavior from the cripple. “Oh, shit, who saw?”

The boys exchange a look, which tells you everything, and you decide to let it go. “Whatever, help me up. Let’s go eat lunch.” You’re reaching out for them to help you up. You’re wobbly, and lightheaded, but determined. “Don’t look at me like that, I just need to eat. Help me to the table and get me some food.”

They do as you ask, despite the fact that they clearly think you should be heading to the nurse’s station before heading back to your own home. If you leave now, your body wins, and you’re not letting it happen. You’ll see Eddie at lunch, and he’ll help you for the rest of the day. Even if you don’t deserve it.

---

The boys have their arms around you, Mike is carrying your crutches, Dustin your bookbag. Eddie sees the three of you approaching and jumps out of his chair at the end of the cafeteria table and bounds over to you. His face is low to look into your eyes. “I’m ok, Eddie. Help me to the table.” Eddie takes over, shooing the boys away to get your lunch.

“What happened?” You’re trying to ignore the stares and whispers from the tables you pass on the way to the Hellfire table. Half of the school must have seen you hit the ground and not even stopped to make sure you were ok.

“I got a little woozy. Gave blood this morning. Just need to eat.” Eddie eases you into a chair, and sits next to you, face still close trying to get a read on you. “Hey, can I ask you a favor?”

Eddie lets out a sharp bark of a laugh, “Uh, sure. What is it?” He reaches up to push your hair back from your face, and wipes some of the sweat from your forehead. “Jesus Christ, why don’t you let me take you to the nurse?”

You choose to ignore the question and give Eddie one of your own as Dustin sets a can of coke in front of you while Mike sneaks a tray of mystery loaf and *thank god* mashed potatoes. “Can you take me home after school? My mom wouldn’t let me drive because I gave blood earlier.” You see Eddie’s face slack in relief because at least there was a reason you face looked so wan.

“Of course, Ilene, I live to serve.” You pick up your fork with a shaking hand, and get to work on the food in front of you. Filling your stomach with anything that will help clear the fog and bring life back to your body. The coke does its job, that sugary goodness immediately perks up your mind.

“Hey, uh, I want to talk to you later too, if that’s ok?” You owe him that, at least.

His face is cautious, but he gives you a nod. Now that he’s sure you’re not going to keel over at the table, he resumes his lunch while keeping a hand firmly pressed on your knee. You allow it, for now at least.

---

It’s back to the old routine for the rest of the day, no chance of being caught up in the full hallways with Eddie as your guide. Even with your standoffishness, he’s still cracking jokes that only make himself laugh. He still gives your back a reassuring rub while you wait for your classes to start. He still gives you his cute little smile, the one that makes you feel warm all over. Being with him like this is enough to feel yourself being pulled out from the darkness, ever so gently.

When the last bell rings and you find yourself secured in the passenger seat of Eddie’s rust bucket van, you ask him “Hey, Ed, can we go somewhere for a little while and talk?” His brows scrunch together a bit, but he gives you a little smile and nods. When he turns the ignition, his radio blares to life, and you couldn’t be happier for the noise to fill your heavy brain. You close your eyes, the sound of Ozzy’s voice lulling you to sleep while Eddie tears through the parking lot.

When you feel the van roll to a stop, you peek through your cracked eyelids to see the sun reflecting prettily off of the surface of water. A hand is on your knee again, and you let your own drop down to cover it. Eddie.

“It’s pretty, Ed.” You’re eyes are still gazing out over the water while your mind is waking back up again. “Wanna sit outside?”

Eddie gives your knee a little pat and says, “I’ve got some blankets and a pillow in the back. Let me set up a little spot for you.”

“You’re so good to me, thanks Ed.” The sadness in your voice is unmissable, but Eddie doesn’t comment. He jumps out of the van, and you hear him rustle around for a few minutes, cursing under his breath. You’re smiling to yourself at the boy. You drag your heave body from its slouched position, a little bit painfully, and open the door to make your way back to witness whatever is happening behind your back.

“Wait, I’ll help you!” He’s calling to you when he hears the passenger door close shut. The commotion is even louder now, the sounds of cans and bags being tossed around.

You’re laughing hard enough to let out a loud snort, “Relax, bud, I think I can take a couple of steps on my own.” Truthfully, you’re dragging your leg behind you like the dead thing that it is, but it’s only a couple of steps.

It’s what you expect, Eddie is knee deep in fast food wrappers and soda cans, he’s just shoving them into a corner of the back of the van. But – there’s also a couple of blankets and pillows he’s laid out, so you climb your way up while he crouches with his arms out to help you in. “You find yourself sleeping in the back of your van a lot?”

“Uh, well, sometimes I sneak a nap in.” He gives a little sheepish shrug, and you know it’s probably a good spot for getting high. “So, what’s going on with you? You gonna talk to me or ignore me some more?”

You’ve got yourself position so that your back is pressed against the side of the van, and one of the pillows is resting under your knee to give your hip a break. “I’m getting my hip replaced in two weeks.” You get straight to the point. “I had to give blood this morning in case I end up needing a blood transfusion.”

“Holy shit, that’s good, right?” He’s sitting next to you now, knee knocking into yours. “Good as new.” He drops his head to rest on your shoulder and puts his arm around your waist to bring you closer to him.

“Yeah, good as new.” It’s a hope you whisper into the air of the van, and you find that you’re choking on a sob. It’s come out of nowhere. “Sorry.” You try to get the sadness out of your voice, and Eddie still nuzzles into you, not saying anything. “Maybe it’s better if we just go back to the way things were until after it’s over.”

The hand that he had at your side, rubbing comforting circles freezes for a beat, and you feel a heave exhale of breath at your neck. He doesn’t pull himself away from you, instead he squeezes you a little tighter and asks, “Why?”

You had expected him to be upset or surprised, but he’s neither of those things. He’s quiet and still letting his thumb brush against your side while he waits for your answer. He wants to know why, and you simply do not have the strength to lie or soften the truth for him in this moment.

“Because it’s going to be ugly, and I don’t want you to see it. And, I get mean, and I don’t want to lash out at you.” You think you’re done, but Eddie’s silence tells you he’s waiting to hear more. His nose is nuzzling into the crook of your neck in encouragement and it sends a warm zing through you. You can’t deny him. “I can’t handle the thought of you seeing all of that and deciding it’s too much for you. I’ve lost enough already.”

You think about Hannah, your best friend for years, who finally stopped visiting after your last surgery. She had, like all of your other friends, gotten tired of hearing your excuses for not being able to do the typical teenager shit. You never blamed any of them, but the pain of that kind of rejection on top of the already brutal physical pain is too much to go through again. And your ex. You had loved him so much it consumed you. You gave him everything you had, he had seen every piece of you, and threw it away. You couldn’t see Eddie doing that, but you never thought Drew would either, until he had.

Eddie doesn’t say anything for a while, he just holds you impossibly tighter and let’s the words sit between the two of you. You think that’s fine, because no matter what happens from here, you’ve told him the truth, and he’s listened. That’s more than most would do for a girl that is so broken she can’t even walk around the mall with her friends. You feel held by him, and more importantly, seen by him.

When Eddie finally decides to respond to you, it’s unhurried. His tone is calm, his voice steady and words thoughtful. His hands continue their work on your lower back drawing aimless patterns with his calloused fingers on the exposed skin. His mouth lets out a breath, like a gust of wind blowing through your hair. With his free hand, he taps your forehead, an indication that he wants you to look at him. What your eyes meet are his pretty chestnut ones, full of affection.

“I’m going to be honest with you because you’ve been honest with me, ok?” Your stomach sinks, but you nod your head anyway. He’s right, he heard what you had to say, you need to do the same for him. “The thought of seeing you in the hospital and in pain…” His eyes close as if imagining the sight and shakes his head a little to rid himself of the thought, “does not thrill me.”

You start to tense up at his words. He said he’d be honest, and he is, but maybe this is going to be more than you want to hear. You’re holding your breath and waiting for the other shoe to drop, Eddie still letting his hands wander on your skin. His attempts at grounding you are starting to fail, and you think he must know it, but he still takes his time.

“Don’t get lost, stay with me, I’m not done.” You exhale the breath you were holding onto and try to relax and trust him. He’s given you no reason to not trust him. “Why would I want to see someone I care about so much in that position? No, it scares the absolute shit out of me if I’m being honest.” His eyes are wide, head tilted to the side, and you know it’s true. He’s got real fear written all over his face, and for some reason you find that very reassuring.

He pulls you into his chest, letting you bury your face into him, and he’s dramatically rocking you back and forth without moving your hips. “But I know you don’t want to be there either. I’m sorry, Ilene, I really am, but it’s not something I think I can do.” The leather of his jacket is creaking with the effort of holding you to him, less comforting now, more like he’s trying to squeeze the life out of you. “Because when you get better, I’m gonna want to tickle the absolute shit out of you to hear you laugh until you scream.”

“Eddie, no!” You’re squirming under his grip, strong yet still somehow not painful. “Don’t you dare!” His hand is on the skin of your side, and you think he’s going to do it. He’s going to tickle you until you’re thrashing under him. You can see the evil look in his eye, even with your face still squished against his chest.

“Oh, Ilene, I wouldn’t dare do it now. Just know, I’m waiting for my chance.” He loosens his arms enough for you to wiggle and see his pretty face. You don’t know how he did it, but he changed the mood between the two of you so fast. And you think you don’t mind it. Because he’s true, and kind, and the most beautiful person you’ve met.

“My only concession is that if you really don’t want me at the hospital, I won’t go.” He looks serious, like he’s making sure you understand what he’s telling you. He has a finger pointed at your face, brow stern, and eyes narrowed, “but, only if you don’t want me there. If it’s because you want to spare me, don’t.”

You’re giggling subsides and you let out a little contented sigh. The strange loose feeling in your hip has never fully been relieved, and you start to feel some discomfort with the hard metal of the van bed underneath. You feel like you could come apart at any moment, just pieces of you falling away. You long to feel whole. Being with Eddie is the closest you come to feeling like a real person. A whole person. A person that has something to live for. You hate the thought of those feelings being because of a boy, but fuck if you can control how you feel.

“Fine. But I swear to god, if you decide you don’t like me after you see make a nurse cry, I will murder you as soon as I get my feet back under me.” He throws his head back in a laugh, but you grab his chin with your small hand and make him look at you, “Does it look like I’m joking, pretty boy?”

His eyes sparkle at you, his smile’s gone, and he looks like he has something to say. No, not say – his mouth is on yours in an instant. The way he moves you is fluid and fast. You go from sitting beside him to laying under him without even realizing it. You’re occupied with his mouth, his lips opening with your own, tongues moving together. Any pain you felt was gone, because all you could feel was a burning inside your gut for Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

“You think I would leave you, just because things are gonna get a little hard.” His mouth has travelled to your neck, and he’s breathing into your ear. “Do you have any idea how much I want you?” You’re completely pliant under his touch, and you feel yourself pulsing with desire.

You have no answer for him, your breath hitching with every pass of his lips on your neck. He finds the soft skin of the lobe of your ear and sucks it into his mouth. It’s pornographic, the sound that escapes your mouth. You were no virgin, but Eddie has you feeling like you’ve never been touched before in your life.

While his mouth works along your neck and ear, you find your hands threaded through his curls, fisting and pulling at his hair. The moaning response he gives has you whimper back. You want him. You want him now.

“Eddie, please. You can touch me.” It’s all the permission he needs, his hand moves from your waist and travels under your shirt to cup your breast. His thumb running across a nipple, separated by the thin cotton bra you’re wearing. This is the moment you realize you’re both wearing far too many clothes. You pull you sweater over your head and unhook your bra with ease, setting it on the floor of the van beside the two of you. Eddie is just watching you with amazement until you pull on his shirt, snapping him out of the trance he was in.

“I wanna feel you.” Your voice is a little desperate, and you’re willing your hips to stay still. The urge to rock them a little, seeking anything Eddie is willing to give to you, is intense. A hand tests the waters with your bare breast, a firm full grasp with a thumb skating across your pebbled nipple. His lips are pursed in a line, and he huffs out a puff of air through his nose.

His voice is thick, and it cracks when he finally opens his mouth to speak to you, still staring at your nakedness presented to him. “I – fuck. I don’t want to do anything that might hurt you.” His eyes are wild when he looks up to meet your own. You know you must look impossibly needy for him, your skin is on fire from his touch. “Seriously, are you trying to kill me?"

"You won’t hurt me, Ed. I’ll tell you if it hurts, I promise.” You’re begging, and it has an effect on him. He closes his eyes, probably trying to regain his composure without looking at the half-naked woman lying in front of him. You take the opportunity to sit up and yank on his jacket. He obliges, eyes still closed, letting you take off his vest and jacket, and then his t shirt.

“Eddie, we don’t have to do anything, just lay with me.” You can tell he’s doing battle with himself inside his mind, and you don’t want that. You want anything that happens between the two of you to be right, and it won’t be if he’s second guessing himself the whole time. If he’s terrified of what he could do to your body. There’s a deep sense of disappointment about that, anger – not at Eddie – but at your own body for betraying you yet again.

He snakes himself down so that his arm is wrapped under you, skin against skin. He’s so soft, it makes you wonder if he uses lotion. You trace the outline of a tattoo over his heart, a scary looking demon. His fingers are running along your collarbone, his head tucked into your neck.

“I’m sorry.” His soft words break your heart a little at the sadness in his tone. “I ruined this.” His hand drops as if he’s resigned, and you giggle a little.

“Ed, why are you being so dramatic right now? You’ve got me with my tits out in the back of your van.” The noise he makes in response is a mix of a laugh and a groan, but it has the desired effect. He brings his face out of hiding, his cheeks are burning, but he meets your gaze with a small smile.

“You’re really pretty, Ed.” You push his curls out of his face to see him better, and he meets your mouth in a kiss. Soft but with need, your tongues mingle while enjoying the feeling of your hands wandering across his soft skin.

It’s all kissing and light touching, fingers wandering bare skin. You have him tell you the stories of his tattoos. You love how animated he is when he tells you how he designed them himself, and from where he drew his inspiration. You can tell that he occasionally forgets that you’re laying there topless when his eyes make eye contact with your breasts. He looks surprised every time, and it makes you laugh every time.

And then, he sees it. You register his shock when he notices the angry red scar peeking up from the waist of your jeans. His hand goes to touch it, and you instinctively recoil.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I just – I didn’t expect to see a scar there.” You reach for your bra and shirt, hastily dressing yourself, suddenly reminded of how cold the air in the van feels. “Hey, uh, shit never mind, that’s stupid.” Eddie’s reaching for his own shirt shaking his head.

“What?” He’s got your curiosity piqued. You need to know what’s going on in his head.

“I feel like such an asshole, say no if you want.” You nod for him to continue, he’s got that adorable wide-eyed look on his face with his question, “Can I see it?”

“Oh! You want to see my scars?” You wrinkle your nose a little. You’re not ashamed of them, never have been. You wear them with pride, the story of your life etched on your skin permanently. Not unlike a tattoo, only you had no choice in the pattern and placement. “Yeah, you can see them.”

Without a second thought, you’re turning your body to lay on your side and unbuttoning your jeans. He helps you when he sees you struggle to push them down while in that awkward position. You’re facing away from him, hip facing up so he can see both scars.

“This might have been a mistake.” You can hear him shuffling behind you, quite obviously adjusting his pants. You can’t help but giggle a little at him. “You’re so fucking hot. I’m a fucking moron. I take it back, I’m ready to figure this out right now.”

“Eddie, stop, file it away for later, or whatever. My ass is freezing.” He sighs and you can see him out of the corner of your eye with his hands in the air, not knowing what to do with them. “For crying out loud, you can touch me. Just be very gentle. I’ll tell you to stop if I want you to.”

You brace yourself, not wanting to have any kind of reaction when his fingers finally touch your skin. You want him to explore at his own pace, you want him to know that his touch is welcome and wanted. His hand is more than gentle, you can barely feel him, the fine hairs of your outer thigh whispering at the sensation. When he’s sure you’re not going to recoil from his touch again, he allows his fingers to run along the long scar that runs down the outside of your leg, not touching the angry red skin, running along the side of it. You know you can still see the individual stitch marks there. His touch reaches a part of your leg that feels strange, a large nerve on that part of your leg was accidentally cut during your last surgery.

“You have two scars?” He’s not really asking, because it’s obvious that you do. The second scar runs from above your pelvis and down at an angle towards the band of your underwear. It dips down to a place he can’t fully see, stopping right at the spot where your pubic hair begins. You wait and let him decide what he wants to do, prepared to let him lower your underwear to get a complete view of the path the scalpel traveled. You’ve got yourself so worked up over the thought of him dipping below your panties, you’re completely unprepared for what he does next. You’ve got your eyes squeezed shut, concentrating on staying calm, when you feel hot breath on you. His mouth meets the end of your long scar in a gentle kiss, and you can’t control the gasp that erupts from your mouth.

“I’m sorry, is this ok?” You can feel his words against your skin, and you feel your breathing quicken with excitement. It’s so intense, being seen in this way. So intimate having him this close.

“Yes, it’s ok.” You feel yourself twitching, completely unable to control the movement. You realize what the feeling is, and almost groan. You’re so turned on, you feel like you’re going to explode from just feeling his breath on you. Eddie hums to himself a little, letting his mouth travel back along line scarred on your flesh while his hand gently pulls back on the waist band of your underwear to peak down and see the rest of the smaller scar. He’s so close to your heat, there’s no way he can’t smell your arousal, but he continues to gently brush his lips against you.

“Eddie, I – mmm – you have to stop. I’m sorry.” You can’t hide the neediness in your voice, it’s embarrassing, but you can’t let him keep this up any longer if he’s not willing to give you relief.

“Oh, pretty girl, you smell so sweet, and your skin is so soft.” His nose is nuzzling below your belly button, “Will you let me taste you?” Your body is shaking with anticipation, so close to the edge and he hasn’t even touched you at your center.

You manage to squeak out a “please” and that’s good enough for him. He’s got on your back, pants pulled off in that smooth way he has. Quick and fluid movements while supporting you and keeping you in a comfortable position. He wastes no time, sneaking your underwear down past your knees.

“Show me where to put my hands.” He’s so quiet, you barely hear him. You place on hand on your good hip to keep you stable, the other under you lower back to avoid any painful pressure on your broken side. His mouth descends on your mound, and he noses around the coarse hair breathing you in.

It takes no time at all, his tongue works on your swollen and sensitive button. He lets out quiet needy moans as he licks at you. A guttural groan rips through you, so low you don’t even recognize the sound of your own voice. And then he sucks, and then it’s over. He’s got his lips sealed tightly around your bud. You’ve been sitting on the edge, he has you so worked up from his gentle exploration of your scars. Your high rips through you in a flash, so fast. His mouth has barely been on you for more than a couple of seconds. You can’t even be embarrassed when you can hear the effect your waves of pleasure are having on Eddie. He is beside himself, groaning and holding your hips still. You notice he’s rocking his hips against the floor of the van, and it sends a new wave of pleasure through you.

When you come back down to earth, you find Eddie breathing heavily, his head resting on your thigh. You run your hand in his hair, and he hums a little. “Uh, I gotta tell you something, please don’t laugh.” His voice is croaky and shy.

“What’s the matter, Ed?” You already know, but you ask anyway.

“I came in my pants.” His mouth is muffled in your skin. You’re still running your fingers in his hair, and you rumble out a low laugh. It’s not a mean laugh, it’s knowing.

“Oh, Baby, I’m sorry. If it’s any consolation, I don’t feel any pain. Fuck, that was good.” You grip his hair gently, giving it a little affection tug. He groans a little and works his way up to you after he pulls your underwear and pants back up over your hips. He gives the small line of scar peaking out from the waist of your jeans one final kiss.

You both work to get yourself together, Eddie brushes at the front of his pants and shakes his head. It’s a lost cause, he needs to change. He’s helping you out of the back of the van, it’s slow, joints stiff from being laid out on the hard surface for so long. You don’t care. The afterglow of your orgasm is still radiating through your body. You think about what the next few weeks will hold, and you know. This is when you know – Eddie will be there for you.

When he helps you up to sit in the passenger seat before taking you back to your house, you place your hands to hold his face. His perfect face, still flushed from earlier, his kind eyes sparkle at you. He has a lopsided grin on his face, he’s still feeling goofy from his own high.

“Hey, Ed.” You stare at each other for a minute. He goes to pull away, and you shake your head a little before pulling him into a kiss. You taste yourself on his lips, and you feel your core beat in response.

“You can visit me in the hospital if you want.”

72 notes · View notes