#as one of the resident lesbians i felt the need to say this. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ellieslaces · 5 months

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KISSING LESSONS.

featuring: hazel callahan x fem!cheerleader!reader

synopsis: Hazel’s worst decision was to join her friend’s fight club, until she met you. or, really got to know you, she knew you, you just didn’t know her. she never thought a cheerleader, much less one of the prettiest girls in the school, would ever pay attention to her. until you did.

content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; internalized homophobia; light smut; kissing (wlw); so much loser lesbianism; some homophobic slang (faggot, munch)

notes: mentions of violence (duh, it’s lesbian fight club); mentions of reader being bisexual (more toward women tho); homophobic slang (faggot, munch, etc) ; there is no real smut in this as i do not write explicit content containing minors.

word count: 3.13k

chloe talks: watched bottoms and then hyperfixated on Hazel for two weeks before I decided to write this. God, I need her so bad. Chloe has a type doesn’t she? (soft mascs make me hhnngg). hazels so fucking cute I need her to kiss me ok bye. <3 (also, I hate the way this turned out, I’m so sorry it’s terrible)

now playing: kissing lessons ; lucy dacus

Fight Club — a popular 1990’s film, that’s all those two words had ever meant to you. You’d never even seen the film, you just knew it was fucking gay, despite it not actually being about the hot topic of homosexuality amongst young men (or women, in your case). But, I digress.

It had been your friends, Isabel and Brittany, who managed to get your ass to attend your school’s resident Fight Club. A women’s Fight Club. How fucking gay. Oh well, it would teach you how to defend yourself properly. Which, in this day and age — or any day and age of we’re honest — is horribly necessary.

It shouldn’t be, but knowing how to beat the shit out of a grown man is something you should know how to do. Self defense isn’t a topic to be taken lightly, and it seemed PJ and Josie knew this.

PJ and Josie — or faggot #1 and faggot #2 as the school knew more endearingly — where the school’s resident ‘ugly and untalented gays’, as Jeff and his little crew liked to say. Really, you suspected they were all just pissed because the girls knew their way around a pussy better than any of them did. They wouldn’t know the clit if it slapped them in the face.

It had been about two weeks into the girls’ club that Isabel and Britany attended for the first time. They showed up to cheer practice the following day with busted lips and bruised faces. At first, you hadn’t known what happened. Maybe Jeff’s dramatics had finally gotten the better of him. But no, they had willingly gotten beaten up for the sake of learning how to better throw a punch.

Finally, after hours upon hours of begging and pleading, Britany and Isabel got you to attend a meeting. You had walked in, nerves wrecking your body as you trailed unsurely behind the two girls you considered your best friends. You trusted them, they wouldn’t let something bad happen.

You had planned to spend your first meeting simply observing, but PJ tried so hard to convince you to join in. She almost even pushed you into the fucking ring. When you finally conceded, you were face to face with Hazel Callahan.

You knew of her, but you didn’t know her. You’d passed her a few times in the hall, you had a science class with her. Jeff said she was another one of those ‘loud mouth munches’ — to which you nearly punched him square in the nose had he not been Isabel’s boyfriend and a complete moron.

Hazel seemed nice, she’d smiled in your direction when you walked into the gym. It was a nice gesture, no matter the awkward air it held. You felt sort of bad for putting her in the situation she was in, even though it was PJ’s fault that she now had to fight you.

You stood awkwardly, fists raised in a defensive position, eyes on Hazel as she stood in front of you. She smiled again, still awkward as it had been when you walked in. You were set on not getting the shit beat out of you.

As soon as PJ’s whistle sounded, you barely gave Hazel a chance to move. She’d shifted on her feet, sending a spark of fear through you, causing you to send a punch straight to her face. You’d gasped, watching her face scrunch up as her own hands flew up to cup her nose.

“Oh my God, I’m so fucking sorry.” You cried, stepping forward, ignoring the claps and cheers falling obnoxiously from PJ’s lips.

Hazel let out a choked laugh, brows raised as she held her nose. “No uh, nice hit. Fuck, that was a good one.” She blinked rapidly, momentarily lowering her hands.

You let out a small squeak as you saw that her nose was indeed bleeding. “Shit, your nose.” You stepped forward again, trying to find something to stop the bleeding. But of course, there wasn’t anything you had on you.

“Alright, Hazel’s fine. Let’s move on.” PJ droned, giving her whistle another sharp blow — she really abused her whistle privileges, you thought as you ushered Hazel toward the bleachers.

Hazel gave a thumbs up — her hand covered in blood that dripped from her nose — as she walked toward the bleachers. No one seemed to notice other than you as you walked with her. You felt so bad, so terrible because now this girl was bleeding because of you.

“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized again, sitting in front of her on the bleachers, looking frantically around for something to give her to stop the bleeding.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Hazel shook her head, trying to convince you she was fine. Even though you both knew she wasn’t.

“Uh fuck, there isn’t anything — don’t do that.” You’d cut yourself off quick, voice deadpanned.

Hazel paused, her head half leaning backward as she looked over in your direction. Her ringed fingers pinched the bridge of her nose — it seemed she’d had the idea to lean her head back to stop the bleeding.

“Lean your head forward, not backward. If you go backwards, the blood could go into your lungs. Go forward and let it drip out.” You instructed, pulling her hand down gently by her wrist, moving to take off your cardigan so she could hold it below her face to catch the blood as it dripped.

“How do you know that?” Hazel questioned, brows pulled in a frown as she leaned her face forward so the blood could freely drip from her nose onto the bundle of fabric in her hands.

“I had to get a certificate to be able to babysit.” You shrugged, moving the strands of hair from her face without thinking about it. When you’d realized what you’d done, you froze, dropping your hand in embarrassment, muttering a sad ‘sorry’ again.

Hazel shook her head, not responding verbally to your millionth apology. Your cheeks warmed, suddenly so embarrassed for an entirely different reason. Not just for punching Hazel square in the nose, but you’d managed to embarrass yourself by noticing just how pretty she was.

Hazel sat on the bottom row of the bleachers in the gym, watching the rest of the group fight each other in turns, different girls winning. Some had busted lips, others a myriad of bruises spattered across their faces.

You took the time to notice just how pretty Hazel was — a sharp jawline that would make Jeff jealous, brunette hair that mussed in just the right way and looked so goddamn soft, her nose that was long and straight save for the small bump in the bridge that made your throat constrict. God, she really was a sight. How hadn’t you noticed sooner?

Maybe it was the fact that Hazel wasn’t in your social circle. You were a cheerleader, friends with Isabel and Britany, the focus of stares. Hazel was a loser — in the kindest and most endearing way — someone who wasn’t popular. Someone who had hardly any friends. And despite the fact that today was maybe the third time in your entire life you’d ever spoken to her, you wanted to be one of her friends.

A quick, sharp quip of PJ’s whistle brought you back to the present, her loud voice announcing the day’s session was over. You blinked, looking away from Hazel. Who somehow didn’t seem to notice you’d just spent the past five or so minutes just studying her face.

She turned to you, eyes apologetic as she held out your crumpled cardigan in her hands. “It’s really bloody, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” you shook your head, holding out your hand. It was only after the words came out of your mouth that realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, it’s just, you don’t have to give it back. I don’t like it that much anyways. And it’ll probably stain. That sounds bad, I’m sorry.”

Hazel smiled a little at your words that seemed to stumble out of your mouth. You regretted every single one of them. You moved to take the cardigan anyway, acting as if you hadn’t told her to just keep it. But she pulled it back.

“I’ll wash it.” She said simply, standing. There were specks and smears of dried blood on and below her nose. You felt another pang of guilt then, seeing that your punch would definitely cause a bruise across her nose.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You shook your head, standing as well. Isabel and Britany stood a few feet away, clearly waiting for you to come over. You didn’t want to though, for some reason.

“It’s fine. I’ll see you at the next meeting right?” Hazel asked, not relenting and continuing to hold the cardigan in her hands as she started to back away.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” You shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. You didn’t really want to come back. Not since you’d punched Hazel and made her bleed on your first meeting. But, maybe this would be a good incentive to come back. To see her.

“Cool,” Hazel grinned, nodding in your direction before she walked toward where PJ and Josie stood. You remained sentient for a moment, hands folded in front of your lap as you watched Hazel.

“Jesus, you hit hard.” Isabel’s voice rang in your ears as she and Britany approached, the latter’s eyes wide as she looked at your hand.

“Might want to wash your hands,” the girl motioned to your dominant hand — the knuckles were spotted in blood from where you’d punched Hazel and blood had immediately started to pour from her nose.

Your eyes latched onto the specks of blood on your knuckles, brows creased as you stared. Bright, rusty red adorned the skin of your knuckles, bits of Hazel Callahan’s DNA there. It was strange, but it made you smile.

The attendance of the fight club had steadily grown — girls coming to the gym after school to brush up on their combat skills. All in preparation for the upcoming football game against Huntington. The fear ever since one girl had gotten attacked by one of the boys and word had gotten around about it.

So, attendance had spiked, the ‘female solidarity’ — as PJ liked to call it — had risen in the school, even the girls were kinder and nicer to one another. And your mind was muddled with constant pictures and thoughts of Hazel Callahan.

It was confusing — you’d never felt such a strong connection to someone you hardly knew. Hazel was as much a mystery to you as the rest of the ‘ugly, untalented gays’. Meaning she was a huge fucking mystery. Sure, you were vaguely aware that her parents had divorced, and that the girl mostly kept in the background in school. But other than that, Hazel was purely mysterious to you. And you found yourself wanting to know more.

To remedy thhs, you continued to attend fight club, naturally. Yes, you shared a class or two with the girl, but nowhere else did you have the chance to actually interact with her. To converse with her, hear her voice, see her smile. God, what a loser you were.

It wasn’t until two weeks later that you’d come to realize how disgustingly and embarrassingly obvious your infatuation with Hazel was. And what made it worse — it was PJ who brought it to your attention.

“Yo!” PJ’s obnoxious voice rang through the gym as you stood in the circle with the rest of the girls, watching Silvia and Brittany spar, your name on the girl’s lips as she spoke. “Quick eye-fucking Hazel and pay attention! Huntington is like, two weeks away.”

Your cheeks flamed a bright red as you sunk into yourself, shoulders curling in. God, you wanted a chance at PJ in that ring to strangle the fuck out of her for that. Your eyes quickly cut over to where Hazel stood — her own cheeks dusted with light pink as she avoided your gaze.

Great, now she probably wouldn’t talk to you at all. Fuck PJ and her obnoxious, loud mouth. Your embarrassment was not short lived as the fight club went on. You couldn’t look in Hazel’s direction at all as you waited out the meeting until its end so you could retreat with your tail between your legs and never show your face in this gym again.

It was as you shouldered your backpack, heart still racing, stomach still uneasy with embarrassment that you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned, eyes going wide as you were face to face with Hazel. Your eyes trailed down to a bundle of fabric in her hands.

“Sorry it took so long, but uh, I got the blood out.” She held out what turned out to be your cardigan. The cardigan that you’d leant her two weeks ago when you’d punched her too hard.

“Um, you didn’t have to do that.” You said, offering a sheepish smile as she held out the cardigan. You gingerly took it, eyes locked on Hazel’s face. As you grabbed it, you swore you could feel a spark when your fingers brushed against hers. A fucking spark — cliche but true.

It was silent between you two for a moment before Hazel shook her head, jutting her thumb over her shoulder. “Sorry about PJ. Things kind of come out of her mouth without her brain processing first.”

Yikes, Hazel meant the ‘eye-fucking’ comment. You offered a small, horribly obvious chuckle. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”

There was another long stretch of silence between you and Hazel, your lips pulled to the side as you held the folded — she’d fucking folded it, Jesus she was adorable — cardigan in your hands. It was strange, but not too uncomfortable. Like that stupid thing from Pulp Fiction, the right person is someone that silence isn’t awkward with.

“I wasn’t eye-fucking you.” You blurted. Great, you made it awkward again. A small groan fell from your lips, head dropping as you closed your eyes with a frown. You shook your head. “Sorry, I dunno what’s wrong with me today.”

“PJ’s just jealous.” Hazel offered with a small laugh. How could one solidarity laugh sound so beautiful?

“Of what?” You asked gingerly, looking up to meet her eyes. For some reason, you were weary of her answer.

“That you aren’t giving her attention. Besides, I don’t think she’d know what to do with your attention anyway, you’re so pretty.” She said it not as an insult to PJ — or at least it didn’t sound like it — but more as an obvious fact. And you were stunned because Hazel had just called you pretty.

You were at a loss. A true loss. How the hell were you supposed to respond to that? So, like an idiot, you just stared at her blankly, eyes confused and wide.

Her own eyes went wide, brows furrowed as a worried look crossed her features. “Shit, was that too much? Too much. Fuck.” Her voice lowered as she cursed, brows knit together.

“No! Not too much, I just… I just didn’t think you thought I was pretty too.” You shrugged, quick to correct her. Quick to reassure that you were flattered and not weirded out.

“I mean yeah, of course I do.” Hazel nodded, her voice soft, words intentional like her statement was an obvious fact.

A smile spread across your face, cheeks warm again. You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt so much about Hazel. You’d never had a crush on a girl before. It was new and strange, but you definitely thought this was a crush.

“Thanks.” You whispered, eyes darting down to the cardigan in your hands for a moment before going back to looking up at Hazel. “For the compliment, and bringing back my cardigan. You didn’t have to wash it.”

“It’s fine, I wanted to. It’s a nice cardigan.” Hazel shrugged. It seemed she was at a loss for what to say around you too.

The gym was near empty by now — Josie and PJ chattering away in the far corner, and Isabel and Brittany waiting for you (but not paying attention to anyone but themselves) by the gym doors a few feet away.

So, due to the empty state of the gym and the disgustingly thick tension between you and Hazel, you stepped forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to her cheek.

This took the girl by surprise. Her eyes went wide as your lips pressed to her soft cheek. You leaned back, her brows creased as she watched you.

“Thanks,” you said again, with a shrug. Letting her know that was your way of thanking her. Small, but meaningful to you.

It was a long moment that you stood there, Hazel staring at you with wide eyes. For a couple of long seconds, you thought you’d fucked up. Misread the situation, mistook the tension for something else. But, you were proven wrong as she leaned forward, closing the distance between you by pressing her mouth to yours.

“You’re welcome.” She murmured as she leaned back, your eyes wide now from processing that Hazel had just kissed. That you’d just had your first girl-kiss. Fucking scary, but nice. You liked it. Liked her.

“I’ve never done that.” You whispered, blinking rapidly to ground yourself. “With, with a girl, I mean.” You corrected yourself almost instantly.

You’d kissed a guy or two before. Sadly, your first ever kiss was Tim at the ninth grade freshman dance. He was a bad kisser and you hated it. But, you liked how Hazel kissed. Despite it being a quick peck, it was full of intention and it was gentle too.

Hazel shrugged, a small half smile forming on her lips. “Maybe I can give you lessons.”

You grinned, laughing a little as you nodded, backing away toward the gym doors, needing to escape before you said anything else stupid. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll send you my address.”

“Okay,” Hazel nodded, grinning widely to herself as you mentioned her coming over.

You almost skipped as you walked out of the gym, trailing behind Isabel and Brittany as the girls chittered away, the prospect that Hazel would be giving you fucking kissing lessons. You held the bundle of fabric close to your chest as you walked to your car. And it was then you noticed it smelled like Hazel. The detergent, obviously. But, there was something else that was just Hazel. And you never wanted it to go away. Maybe, you could wear it while she gave you kissing lessons that night.

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

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Hi! Hope ur doing great! First of all, I really love your fics! I think you're really talented.

I have a request, if it's not too much trouble. I can't stop thinking about a Steve w/head trauma (so, maybe migraine prone, memory issues, etc) and a DM Eddie that still resents Steve from high school. Eddie doesn't know Steve struggles with the complications of his concussions, so he keeps judging him for it. Say, for example, Steve got a terrible migraine and couldn't pick the kids up from Dnd and Eddie thinks he's probably at a party and stood them up. Then Eddie finds out, maybe from Steve himself or a Party member or Steve's parents. (If you could somehow sneak in Steve's parents being good caring parents for one, it'd be really cool.) Eddie apologizes and they start getting closer. And, yeah, that's all. Thank you!!!

We know I love writing Steve with a migraine. Not to jinx anything, but it's been almost two weeks since I've had one myself so I'm sure the torture I put him through here will have instant karma and I will wake up with one. Is it realistic for Eddie to pretty much fall instantly in love with a man he hated the night before? No. Do I write realistic stories? No. Buckle up for the fastest burn you can possibly read today! - Mickala ❤️

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Steve Harrington was late.

Not just a few minutes late, not like he maybe got held up at a light for an extra two minutes, not like he had to stop for gas.

He was 25 minutes late.

Eddie was pissed.

He didn’t mind hanging out with the kids longer, wouldn’t have even minded if he’d just been given a heads up that Steve would be late.

A phone call.

A fucking letter by pigeon.

Anything.

Dustin seemed worried, more than anyone else, though the later it got, the more Lucas and Will and Mike seemed to worry too.

And Eddie would maybe worry too, except he knew what was happening.

He knew because it’s all he ever expected of Steve.

Steve probably went to a party, thought he could make his rounds, maybe have a drink and sober up in time to come get the kids.

And then he probably got bribed into having another drink, maybe smoke a joint in the backyard of whatever rich kid’s house he was visiting, maybe have a shot with a group of kids who liked to spend their time bullying the very kids he was supposed to be picking up.

Maybe fuck a girl in a bedroom upstairs until he was too tired and just passed out on top of her.

He rolled his eyes at the thought.

“Maybe we could try to call his house again?” Lucas asked.

“He didn’t answer the first four times, why would he now?” Mike asked, though his eyes kept scanning the road into the trailer park, searching for headlights that wouldn’t appear.

And wasn’t that just the last straw for Eddie? Watching his favorite gremlins admire and respect someone who couldn’t even remember to pick them up? Watching them expect so much from a guy who peaked in high school, who didn’t care about them if it hindered his plans?

“You guys wait here,” he said, his hands shaking with anger.

“Where are you going?” Will asked.

“To call Robin. If anyone will know what’s up, she will,” he replied.

It was late, but not too late for a phone call between adults.

“Buckley residence, you’ve got Robin,” Robin answered the phone with a bored tone.

“Any clue why your best friend is 30 minutes late to pick the kids up from my house?” He tried not to sound angry at her, it wasn’t her fault.

But he couldn’t hide the fact that he didn’t understand what band nerd, lesbian, nice person Robin could possibly see in Steve.

Sure, he carted the kids around a lot, and had helped Wayne out with Eddie’s medical stuff after Vecna, but it felt like he did it out of guilt more than anything else.

“He’s never late,” she said, her tone sharp, defensive. “You sure he knew they needed rides?”

“Positive. I heard him yell to them when he dropped them off that he’d see them in three hours.”

Robin didn’t respond for a minute, and he almost thought the line went dead.

“Has Dustin tried the walkie?” She finally asked.

“Yeah. No answer.”

“Shit.”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Wanna fill me in here, Buckaroo?”

“Um. Can you bring the kids home? I gotta go check on him.”

Before he could respond, the dial tone let him know she was already gone.

“Fuck!” He yelled.

He hung up the phone and grit his teeth together.

The problem wasn’t taking the kids home, he really didn’t mind and had told them on multiple occasions that he could so they didn’t have to rely on Steve to do it.

The problem was that they had relied on Steve and he let them down.

He hated that he’d have to go out there and tell them that Steve wasn’t coming.

He hates Steve for the way he would have to watch their faces fall, for the way they’d ride to their homes in silence.

He hated Steve for the fact that he’d probably buy them all ice cream tomorrow to apologize and they’d all rely on him again.

All would be forgiven.

———————————-

The next morning, he tried calling Robin and got no answer.

He tried calling Dustin and got no answer, though he wasn’t as surprised by that since he’d already been considering going to the Sinclairs’ to spend the weekend since his mom was working.

He tried Steve’s house and got an answering machine. Twice.

He considered leaving a scathing message, but didn’t want to risk one of his parents hearing it and deleting it.

“Fuck it,” he said to himself before he grabbed his keys and decided to drive to Steve’s house.

He was a little surprised to actually see Steve’s car in the driveway, half expecting him to still be passed out at some stranger’s house.

Before he could ring the doorbell, the front door swung open and Robin’s wide eyes were silently begging him to stay quiet.

She looked exhausted, a little flustered, more stressed than he’d seen in a long time.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

Maybe Steve drank more than he should’ve, maybe he wasn’t actually home and she was trying to find him still.

“Come in but be quiet. He’s finally sleeping,” she said, already walking back into the house.

He followed, closing the door behind him and giving his surroundings a quick look.

Everything looked perfect as usual except for Robin’s shoes by the door and her backpack open on the floor by the couch.

The couch that Steve was currently passed out on, blankets almost completely covering his head, ice pack resting over his eyes.

Eddie’s brows furrowed.

“Hangover?” He whispered to Robin.

She looked at him confused.

“No? He hasn’t drank in nearly a year.”

If Eddie didn’t have more control over his body, his jaw would’ve dropped.

“Oh. Um. So is he sick?” Eddie tried to gather up his thoughts, glancing over at the sleeping form on the couch.

He noticed the curtains closed and no lights turned on, noticed the complete silence in the house except for the sound of a fan running in the corner.

“He gets migraines. I thought you knew,” she said.

Eddie shook his head.

“He’s had a lot of head trauma. Gets migraines that make it impossible to even sit up sometimes. I guess he was fighting it most of the day yesterday but after he dropped the kids off with you, he passed out in the shower and barely was able to crawl to his bed after. When you called me, I kind of assumed the worst, so I came straight here and saw him naked and shivering in bed, not able to get up to get dressed or even get the covers on. Got him dressed, got him water and meds, called his parents, tried to help him eat. He spent almost an hour throwing up after that. Then he cried because he forgot the kids. Memory problems happen with the head trauma, too. I couldn’t calm him down until about an hour ago.”

Eddie let himself feel the guilt he deserved for thinking the worst of Steve.

Steve didn’t deserve this. No one did.

“Does he need to go to the hospital?” Eddie whispered, his voice broken thinking about how Steve had been alone here, probably scared when he was curled up in his bed unable to move.

“No. His parents are on their way. If it’s not better tomorrow, they’ll probably take him to his neurologist,” Robin responded.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

A whimper came from the couch, causing Robin to tense and hold her breath.

Eddie looked over and waited to see if maybe Steve was completely awake or if he’d just made a noise in his sleep.

After a few seconds, Robin relaxed, and he felt a breath leave his body.

“How often does this happen?” he whispered as she went to grab a drink from the fridge.

“This bad? Once a month or so. He sometimes has some memory problems without the migraine, but luckily he snaps back quickly,” she shrugged, acted as if it wasn’t a big deal, but Eddie could see right through her.

“And you help him a lot?”

“Well, his parents travel a lot for work, and he can’t always call them or remember how to contact them when it’s this bad, so yeah. I tend to be the one to take care of him until they can get here,” she said.

Eddie chewed on a piece of his hair, glancing over towards the couch every few seconds.

He was surprised this hadn’t come up before.

He was even more surprised that none of the kids had mentioned this as a possibility last night.

“Why didn’t the kids mention it last night when I was pissed?” he finally asked.

“Steve doesn’t really tell anyone. Like, the kids know, but they’ve never actually seen it, and so I think they just kinda forget. He doesn’t wanna bother them with it.”

“That’s stupid, they care about h-”

The front door started to open and a woman peeked her head inside.

Robin ran over as quickly and quietly as she could and Eddie stood awkwardly behind the couch as a middle aged woman walked into the house.

A man followed a few seconds after, a bag in hand.

“Is he asleep?” the woman asked.

“Yeah,” Robin replied before explaining much of what she’d already told Eddie to them.

The Harringtons looked surprisingly put together for a couple who probably hadn’t slept all night and most likely had flown home from somewhere as quickly as they could. They also looked nothing like what Eddie expected.

Mr. Harrington was bald, age spots on his head giving away that he must have been quite a few years older than Mrs. Harrington. She had the same color hair as Steve, same voluminous style, cut just above the shoulders. They both wore glasses, and both of them were wearing business attire like they’d rushed back directly from a meeting.

“And who is this?” he heard Mr. Harrington ask, gesturing towards Eddie.

He walked over and put his hand out to shake, trying to remember the best manners he could.

“I’m Eddie, a friend of Steve’s.”

He could feel Robin staring at him, but didn’t turn towards her. Instead, he shook Mrs. Harrington’s hand and then offered to help with any other bags they have.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We can get them later. Since he’s asleep, we’re gonna go freshen up a bit and then you can head on home. Thank you for taking care of him, Robin. You know we appreciate you so much,” Mrs. Harrington said as she hugged her.

“It’s never a problem. Take your time,” she said.

“I’ll stay, Robin. You should go home and sleep,” Eddie offered before he could think about what he was offering.

“You’ll stay? With Steve?” Robin asked incredulously.

“Yeah. He seems pretty out of it so I’m sure he won’t even wake up before they’re done,” Eddie said, hopeful that he was right.

“Alright, my mom should be here in a few minutes anyway. She was bringing me a change of clothes in case I ended up staying today, so she can just bring me home,” Robin said hesitantly.

“Okay.”

The Harringtons nodded and walked upstairs without another word, most likely too tired to care much about who stayed with Steve as long as he was being looked after.

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this,” Robin said when they were gone.

“I know. But I’m the only one here who slept last night, I can handle it for a bit.”

“He can be…kind of a lot,” she sounded like she didn’t want to admit it, didn’t like saying something negative about him at all.

“It’s fine. If he’s in this much pain, then it’s understandable.”

Robin looked him over for a moment, something like understanding finally showing on her face. He didn’t know what she was understanding, but he was just grateful she didn’t seem to want to talk more.

She started zipping up her backpack, putting on her shoes, and whispering some basic instructions to Eddie in case Steve woke up.

“Replace the ice pack, don’t let him try to move off the couch by himself and only if he has to use the bathroom. The bucket at the end of the couch is if he gets sick. He needs water if you can try to help him drink some, and if he thinks he can stomach it, there’s some crackers on the coffee table. He’s due for more meds in two hours, but you probably won’t be here for that,” she rambled off.

Eddie nodded along, mentally making a to-do list.

“You’re sure you got it? He sometimes isn’t able to talk.”

Jesus Christ, how had he never noticed this? Was he that oblivious to what Steve was going through?

“I got it.”

He could hear a car pull into the driveway and Robin opened the door to leave.

“If you need me, call me. The Harringtons will probably be as quick as possible, but just in case,” she begged him.

“Okay.”

She left and closed the door behind her quietly, leaving Eddie staring at it for a minute.

He heard a small whimper from the couch and he rushed over, looking down at Steve.

The ice pack had fallen off his face, and his eyes were scrunched closed like he was still suffering even in his sleep.

Eddie leaned over to pick up the ice pack, ready to trade it out with a fresh one, when one of Steve’s eyes opened.

He froze and looked at him, hoping he would go back to sleep quickly.

“Eds?”

Shit.

He’d started calling him Eds in the hospital, always walking into his room with a bright smile and a ‘hey, Eds’ that had Eddie cracking a small smile.

He hadn’t heard it since then.

“Yeah?” he finally responded, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible.

He knew when Wayne got headaches, he was very sensitive to noise.

“Hurts,” Steve whimpered out.

Eddie’s heart shattered in his chest.

He walked closer to the couch and knelt down on his knees, placing a hand on Steve’s forehead.

“I know, Stevie. You wanna try to have a sip of water for me?” He whispered.

“No, hurts.”

“Might help,” Eddie tried to bribe him.

But Steve’s eyes were closed again, and even though he wasn’t asleep, he was making it very clear that he couldn’t quite handle keeping them open right now.

Eddie gently ran his fingers back and forth across his forehead, down his nose, along his temples, smiling as Steve’s wrinkles seemed to disappear, his face relaxing slowly.

“Go back to sleep, Stevie,” he whispered.

“Mhm,” Steve let out before he seemed to actually fall back asleep.

—------------------------------

Eddie didn’t move from his spot for nearly 45 minutes, even when his legs went numb and his hand started cramping.

Steve hadn’t so much as snored, so Eddie didn’t want to risk any movement waking him up.

“Would you like something to drink?” Mrs. Harrington asked him, startling him slightly.

“No, thank you,” Eddie responded as quietly as possible.

“Are you the Eddie from the hospital? The one he insisted on visiting every day?” she asked as she sat down on the coffee table right next to him.

“Um, yes ma’am,” he knew he sounded nervous.

“Oh, so you boys worked it all out? He promised he’d tell me if you said yes!” she smiled at him.

“Worked…what out?”

Her eyes widened.

“Your feelings! Steve told us he was going over to your house the day you got out of the hospital and telling you how he felt,” she explained, sounding somewhat unsure now.

Eddie felt like his stomach had dropped to the floor.

“He what?”

“Oh dear,” she said, wringing her hands in her lap. “I suppose I was wrong.”

Eddie saw Mr. Harrington walk into the kitchen from his spot on the floor, felt the tension in the air as Mrs. Harrington tried to change the subject quickly.

But he wasn’t going to stop thinking about what she meant.

Steve had had feelings for him? Like, more than a friend feelings?

Steve let out a small groan in his sleep, shifting his head a bit.

Eddie tried to shush him a bit, running his fingers gently through his hair, careful not to catch on any tangles.

He could feel Mrs. Harrington watching, but she didn’t say anything else until Steve seemed to calm again.

“You know, Steve came out to us in March. Said he’d met a guy who was worth the risk. We love him, we always will, but we were very worried. I think any parent worries when their child, even their grown ones, says they’re in love with someone. In this case, we didn’t know if you felt the same, or if you even liked men. And Steve here tends to fall fast and fall hard and forgets to wear a parachute before the jump.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, his head filled with the way she’d called his feelings love.

“But I think I see now that he didn’t need one. I think he had you jumping with him and you remembered the parachute for him.”

He turned to look at her, her fond smile pointed at them both as he continued to run his fingers through Steve’s hair.

She got up and went into the kitchen, leaving Eddie to think about what she said.

That’s all he did for a while.

—---------------------------------------

The next time Steve woke up, he was slightly more coherent, but still didn’t want to eat or drink.

Mrs. Harrington had gone to lay down for a nap while Mr. Harrington was finishing up something in his office. They both told him to come find them if Steve woke up and needed something.

At some point, Eddie had rested his head against Steve’s chest, listening to his heart beat loudly against his ear.

“Eddie?”

No, why Eddie again? Why not Eds?

“Hey, Stevie,” he lifted his head and spoke just above a whisper. “How about a few sips of water?”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can. I’ll help.”

Robin had been kind enough to find a straw for the cup of water she’d gotten before she left, so Eddie just held it up close to Steve’s lips and told him to sip.

Steve did manage a few sips before he shook his head and started to turn away.

“It’s time for more meds. Wanna take them?” Eddie asked.

“Bed?”

“Um.”

“Carry me.”

Eddie let out a small laugh at the demanding tone in Steve’s voice.

Even through the pain, and exhaustion, and struggle of speaking, he sounded like a drama queen.

Eddie might love him.

“Won’t that hurt?”

“A little.”

“Then shouldn’t you stay here?”

“Wanna cuddle.”

Oh.

“Uh. With…your mom?”

“You.”

Eddie was going to pass out.

There was no way he’d be able to carry Steve up the stairs to his room and then cuddle with him, and pretend he wasn’t feeling the overwhelming urge to propose marriage.

These new feelings kicked in too fast for him to process and he knew cuddling wouldn’t help.

“Please?” Steve asked, his eyes squinting slightly from what little light was making it through the curtains.

“Okay, but don’t laugh when I get out of breath.”

Steve didn’t respond, or really do anything to acknowledge what Eddie said, but he was pretty sure Steve’s head hurt too much to laugh anyway so he took a chance.

He removed the blankets on top of him and managed to pick him up relatively easily.

The walk to the stairs wasn’t bad.

The walk up the stairs was rough for a couple reasons: One, Eddie was out of shape and Steve weighed roughly the same as him. Two, Steve kept whimpering in pain with every step.

When they finally reached his bedroom, Eddie was panting and Steve had a couple tears falling from his eyes.

“I sure hope the cuddling lives up to expectations after that,” Eddie tried to joke.

“Worth it,” Steve sighed.

He set Steve in his bed first, made sure the fan in the room was on and the curtains were shut, then got into his bed.

People dreamed for most of high school to be in this position, but Eddie hadn’t let himself picture it.

He wouldn’t have ever pictured this scenario anyway.

Steve was sweaty, almost like he was running a fever, but Eddie didn’t let that deter him from scooting closer and moving Steve into his arms.

They both fell asleep in minutes, Eddie’s fingers wrapped up in Steve’s hair.

—----------------------------------------

When Eddie woke again, it was pitch black in the room.

Steve was also awake.

“Stevie? You need something? Feeling any better?”

He didn’t answer for a minute, and Eddie considered running to get one of his parents, when he finally spoke up.

“A little. Thanks”

Eddie let out a breath and relaxed back against the pillows under him.

“You can go if you want,” Steve nearly whispered into the darkness.

Eddie tensed again as he looked over at Steve, who was playing with the blanket covering him in his hands, not looking at Eddie.

“And if I don’t want to?” Eddie asked, reaching a hand out to hold Steve’s.

“I know you hate me, so. You can go.”

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Eddie couldn’t let him think he hated him, even though up until this morning, he thought he did.

“Stevie, lay down and look at me.”

Steve, surprisingly, listened and Eddie felt a tug at his heart that Steve was willing to listen to him that easily.

Eddie cupped Steve’s jaw, gentle in case of any lingering migraine pains.

“I don’t hate you. I think I realized that maybe I had my own feelings wrong for a long time,” he admitted.

“What?”

“The best part of my days in the hospital were when you visited. Wayne used to make fun of me when you left for being stuck in the hospital for longer because I was lovesick. And when I got home and you didn’t come visit unless you were bringing the kids by, I just kinda thought it meant things were back to normal. King Steve didn’t need to be nice anymore, his charity case was safe and mostly healed,” Eddie stopped Steve from interrupting at that, scared to lose his train of thought. “So I went back to hating you. It’s easier to hate someone when your heart’s broken, ya know? And I just assumed you were the same Steve I thought you always were. But then I realized that you never really were the Steve I thought you were. And especially now, you’re a guy who deserves kindness and care and love. I’d really like the chance to give that to you.”

He felt Steve’s face getting wet and he brushed his thumbs back and forth to wipe away the tears falling.

“I was going to tell you the day you got out of the hospital,” Steve said, voice trembling.

“Tell me what?”

“That I loved you.”

The world stopped spinning, Eddie would bet money on it.

“You did?”

“I did.” Steve gulped. “I do.”

“You do?”

“You’re a hard person to fall out of love with, Munson.”

It was Eddie’s turn to cry, a few tears falling from his eyes onto the pillowcase below.

“So…”

“So?” Steve asked.

“Is the headache better? I’d really like to kiss you,” Eddie said.

“It’s good enough for a kiss. Might even work better than the meds,” Steve’s smirk could be seen even in the darkness.

Eddie didn’t need to wait for more permission than that.

He was gentle, of course. Just because his migraine had gotten better, didn’t mean he was ready to make out.

He gave him a couple soft pecks on the lips, smiling when he felt Steve smiling against him.

“I think you’re probably pretty easy to fall in love with, Harrington.”

“Yeah?” he asked, voice rough.

“Yeah, might be a new record for me.”

“I’ve been told it’s very sexy when I’m suffering through a migraine,” Steve joked.

“You have no idea,” Eddie joked back.

They stayed in bed all night, Steve eventually falling back asleep again.

Eddie stayed awake though, memorizing the shape of Steve’s body with his fingers, or at least what he could reach while he held him.

They could talk more tomorrow, when Steve’s migraine fully subsided.

But Eddie knew what he wanted now, and he’d never been so happy to be wrong about someone.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #ficlet #request #steve harrington has head trauma #hurt/comfort #getting together #angst with a happy ending

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espressoristretto-patronum · 5 months

Text

A/N: Hi! I'm kinda new in the Hogwart's legacy fandom and I've seen so many people sharing their MC and their stories and I just wanted to share mine too!

English is not my first language, and my blogger skills (?) are poor, so proceed with caution!

Meet my MC!

Name: Tori Lewis

Birthday: 14th June 1875

Birthplace: Turin, Italy

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Lesbian

House: Hufflepuff

Wand: Acaia wood, phoenix core, 12' length, quite bendy flexibility

Patronus: Jack Russell Terrier

Quidditch position: Seeker; Imelda practically begged her to join the Hufflepuff team because "I need a good competition in order to improve myself!"

Some extra facts!

Her name

Tori stands for Vittoria. Why Vittoria? Because she is half-British and half-Italian (from her mother's side) 🤌. I chose the name because I like to think that her parents thought about Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom and King Vittorio Emanuele II of Italy, both sovereigns by the time of Tori's birth.

Why Turin?

Because well, it's my birthplace! Also, Turin is a special city: it has a lot of esoteric story. In a few words, this city joins London and San Francisco to create the triangle of Black Magic, but also the triangle of White Magic too with Lyon and Prague.

Future

Spouse: Poppy Sweeting (she IS wife)

Career: Auror and Natty is her partner, they're thick as thieves and menace to their superior

I think that Poppy's mission is still saving beasts from poachers, so I headcanon she is a sort of mix of Auror and magizoologist (guys, I have no idea about careers in wizard world lol)

Residence: Hogsmeade (I headcanon that since she is a Keeper, she doesn't want to live far away from Hogwarts, I'm also too in love with Hogsmeade)

My personal headcanons with future wife Poppy 💛

Even if they're in the same house and same bedroom, Poppy had never spoken to Tori before their first Beasts Class together because the last was often away and Poppy herself is a night owl, visiting Highwing or studying beasts, etc.

Poppy was also sure that the new fifth year will become like her schoolmates. Because sure, why the new cool, brave student will be friend with Peculiar Poppy? But fortunately Tori is such a good egg, kneazles can confirm.

Tori decided to kneel in front of the Graphorn (because we're not a monster, right?) following Poppy's example. It was Poppy that waited patiently for the mother dragon to take its egg back. It was Poppy that put down her wand when centaurs came to her. And of course, you should show respect to an Hippogriff before approaching.

That's why she chose to kneel. The Graphorn has fought well, it deserved respect.

Poppy felt in love first. Tori felt harder. Like she is kind of in denial for a while and then BOOM she falls and realises and she is panicking "what? Aaaaah what should I do now?!"

Poppy doesn't need protection but loves how protective Tori is.

Their love language is physical touch. Every single one. Surprise hugs from behind? Lovely! Forehead kiss? Adorable! Cuddles in the vivarium with beasts? The best!

Should I really say it? Poppy is an adorable little spoon and love to be wrapped in Tori's arms.

Tori is a golden retriever. Already from day one when Poppy asked to follow her in the forest.

Tori feel like she could die because of Poppy's cuteness, often screaming "STOP BEING SO CUTE AND SO KISSABLE I CAN'T FOCUS"

Poppy is a great cook, Tori isn't at all. But a few times she has tried to cook to cheer Poppy up. The result was messy but still edible and Poppy appreciated the efforts.

They're bad dancers but they don't care, they're having fun

I have a very sappy proposal headcanon.

Tori proposed to Poppy after a couple of months after graduation (lesbian couples move fast, okay?) and she decided to be extremely romantic.

She studied where and when to find Mooncalves' dance and saved the day on her calendar. When the day came, she took Poppy and flied on Highwing to the special place.

Poppy thought the surprise was the mooncalves' dance, instead she turned around and found Tori on her knees, with a ring in her hand. A very shining ring that a selvatic niffler has tried to steal before Poppy could say yes, jumping from a bush the moment the ring sparkled under the moonlight. The little beast had caused little chaos but fortunately they catched it before was too late. With the retrieved ring in one hand, and the beast thief in the other, Tori asked grinning "do you still want to marry meee?"

I've surely more facts and headcanons for my MC, but I think this post is already long enough!

Anddd that was my MC! If you've read so far, thank you so much!

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #poppy sweeting x mc

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maladaptive-day-dreams · 8 months

Note

ROBIN TEACHES READER HOW TO FUCK ROBIN TEACHES READER HOW TO FUCK ROBIN TEACHES READER HOW TO FUCK ROBIN TEACHES READER HOW TO FUCK

babes you are fueling my robin thots rn istg i've been thinking about this for SO LONGGGGG (hence why this fic is unbearably long (4.4k so not too horrible but still longer than intended))

framing this as best friend!robin x innocent!reader (both POVs)

nsfw under the cut (strap play: riding & fucking w it, sucking a strap, oral giving and receiving, fingering, scissoring, basically all smut, multiple orgasms) this is FILTHY (also kissing)

You

You and Robin have been best friends for a few years now. The two of you do everything together and talk to each other about everything...almost everything. But you decide to make it everything tonight.

"Hey Robin?" you start tentitively.

"Yeah babes?" Rob says casually from beside you in her bed.

"So you know how I said I'm a virgin?"

Robin stops what she's doing on her phone and looks over at you. "Yeah." She says with a question.

"Well, uh, how does it work? Sex?"

"Your mom never gave you the talk?" she laughs.

"No, no she did but she did it how mom's do—always avoiding the logistics of it," you laugh shyly.

"You've never looked up porn?"

You shake your head no.

"So you're asking me, the resident lesbian, how sex works?"

"Well, I mean you said you tried it with a guy before you realized you were gay and you're my best friend so I felt comfortable asking you about it before I tried to figure it out on my own or got stuck in a situation and didn't know what to do-" you ramble.

Robin looks warily at you and then it's like a light goes off in her head.

"Ok, here's the deal. I'll show you how it works as long as you let me use you as an example. It'll be...very educational but also fun, for me at least. I'm a very hands on teacher so I'll be doing things to you that would happen in hetero sex okay? Say no now if you don't want that or to see that."

"See?" you ask.

Robin chuckles, "so the way I want to teach you is for you to watch me fuck myself with my strap."

Your eyes go wide and you swallow deeply.

"Damn, you're really that innocent are you? You've never touched yourself to make you feel good?"

"No, I-I don't know how."

It's a slight lie. You catch a soft fuck as it leaves Robin's lips. Lips that you really want to touch with how she bites her bottom one. You've always been curious about Robin, about being with a woman, but you know it's "not right" as your parents would say. When you have tried to touch yourself though, it's always been to the thought of Robin. But you always stop before anything happens because what would your parents think?

"You there?" Robin asks.

"Yeah, sorry, um, yeah that's ok. I-I'll watch-" you say softly.

"So here's the thing, a strap needs to be on someone, to sit properly enough to ride it."

Robin

Her eyes grow even wider at that.

"So if you wouldn't mind, putting it on? So I can show you?"

"Oh, ok, yeah I can do that."

"Perfect, now it can get a bit messy so you might want to take your pants off. Only fair really since I'll be without pants too," I laugh trying to persuade her.

I get off the bed and go to my closet, I open my toy box and pull out my purple strap. Fuck this is going to be so hot. Having her below me while I ride my strap is gonna be like one of my wet dreams come to life. I turn around to see her taking her pants off and standing there timidly, waiting for me.

There won't be any coming back from this for me.

I smile softly at her and kneel in front of her, "use my shoulders for support and step into the harness."

She does as I ask—so compliant. I lift the harness up her soft legs and strap it around her waist, hiding her pretty pink panties from my view.

"Now go ahead and get comfy on the bed again, you can lay down or sit up against the pillows, up to you," I say standing. I take off my pants and underwear while she situated herself on my bed, back slightly raised as she leans against the pillows so her head is a bit elevated so she can see better.

I'm wet just thinking about this.

"I'm gonna start by showing you how to do a blow job ok? This will help me, honestly, so the dildo is wet enough for me to ride it easily without lube."

She nods her head and watches as I move onto the bed and lay down between her spread legs. God I wish there wasn't a strap and panties between me and her sweet pussy right now.

I look at her and smile before licking a stripe up my strap from base to tip. I catch her tongue dart out to wet her perfect lips before taking the dildo into my mouth and slowly taking all of it. I feel her thighs tense under my hands, and smile to myself, pulling off the dildo to talk her through the motions.

"Now," I say, moving my hands to stroke the fake cock. "Since you've never done this before you probably won't be able to take the whole dick into your mouth at once, which is fine, the guy is just going to be happy that you're sucking off even a part of it."

Her eyes are glued on my hands moving up and down the strap, shiny and wet with my spit. "If it doesn't all fit in your mouth you can just stroke what doesn't with your hands. You want to squeeze it a little but not enough to hurt. Just slight pressure from base to wherever it fits or base to tip if you're taking a breather."

I collect enough spit in my mouth to let it drop onto the tip of the dildo and watch her reaction. Her breathing elevates and her pupils dilate. I think I notice her hands gripping the comforter, too.

"Guys love that. It's so hot to them."

I take the cock back in my mouth and bob my head, making sure to hit the back of my throat so I gag a little. Coming off of it I say, "they really enjoy that too. They love when girls choke on their cocks.

You

I don't think I'm breathing. Robin is sucking my cock her strap and it's the hottest thing I think I've ever seen. My pussy is clenching around nothing and I know just how wet I am right now.

She takes the dildo back into her mouth for a few more head bobs and I see one of her hands snake under her body to her cunt. She's touching herself while sucking my dick.

She pulls that hand back up as she lets go of the dildo with a pop and then she strokes it with wet fingers from her cunt.

"Did you-did you get wet from that?"

Robin blushes and looks at me, "yeah, my ex-girlfriend and I would take turns on who would wear the strap and I really got off on giving it a blowjob while she wore it."

Her ex. Great.

"Alright, now's where we're going to get real personal and you'll be seeing my pussy. If you're not okay with this say so now," she says, sitting up on her knees. Her t-shirt is still long enough to hide her nakedness from me but god I want to see her.

"No-no it's fine, I'm good."

Robin smiles and shifts off to one side of me. "Can you put your legs together for me? This way it's easier for me to straddle you."

I do as she asks and squeeze my thighs together to try and get some release, hoping she doesn't notice.

Then she does it. She lifts her shirt slightly and swings a leg over my waist and I can finally see her perfect, wet cunt. She pauses and drops the shirt so she can grab the strap and then pauses.

"Okay so I'm going to take off my shirt so you can actually see the mechanics of what's going on. Is that ok?"

I nod my head yes.

"Words darling, I need words from you," Robin chuckles.

"Yes," I respond clearly, despite my dry throat.

She takes her tee off in a swift motion and is left in just her sports bra. I try not to stare. but I can't help that my eyes go straight to her hard nipples that show through the thin fabric.

Robin

She's staring at my tits and there's no way she's straight. Maybe I have a chance?

No no no don't get distracted, you're teaching her. And getting off for the first time in a while, while doing it.

"Eyes on me babes."

Her eyes meet mine and I smile at her. "Still good?"

"Mhm."

"Good. Now have you touched yourself before." She nods. "Do you know what hole your vagina is?" She nods again. "Good, usually you want the guy's dick or your cunt to be nice and wet, either with your own slick or lube. The other thing that helps with the first time is a bit of fingering so you can stretch and it wont hurt as much going in."

I do exactly that, hand reaching between my thighs, fingers pumping in and out of my pussy a few times. Her eyes don't leave my hand. Once I've fingered myself almost to completion—her watching just does something to me—I shift my hips forward and use the hand that was just in me to line the tip of the strap up with my entrance.

I watch her face as I sink onto the toy. She won't stop staring at my cunt and it's distracting and so intoxicating. I groan as the dildo bottoms out in me, hitting that one spot just right. Her eyes snap up to mine at the noise and I smile at her.

"Once you're on his cock, if you're riding him you can put your hands two places to help you. His shoulders-" I place my hands on her shoulders and moan softly as the toy shifts inside me. "Or leaning back and putting your hands on his thighs behind you," I do this and her eyes follow me.

"Pick a position that feels the best for you," I gasp as I start to rock my hips. "Then you can either bounce on his dick, or roll your hips to hit the right spot."

I stop talking and focus on hitting my high. Hands grasping tightly to plush thighs as I lift my hips up and then down and then roll and repeat. God I'm so close and she's so pretty as she watches me.

"But-but what if I'm not riding him? What if I'm the one laying down?"

I don't stop my movements, doing my best to answer while still fucking myself to the sight of her curious gaze.

"Jesus christ, uh then he'll be in control of the speed and movements," I reply with ragged breath. "You can tell him what feels best though. And you can play with your clit if you need help to finish." As I say this, I reach my hand down to play with my clit. My fingers run around it in circles as I speed up my ministrations. The coil in my belly is tightening, I know I'm close. I open my closed eyes to meet hers and feel her hands as they softly rest on my thighs.

I come undone.

You

Robin's face tenses and then her mouth drops open in a silent cry. Her thighs tense and she caves in on herself above me and it's the most erotic sight I've ever seen.

She pants and her thighs continue to tense as she keeps riding out her orgasm.

"So-sorry," she laughs shyly. "I haven't masturbated in a while so that was a big one."

"It's-" I clear my throat. "It's okay," I say, thighs clenching while I do so.

"Anyway," Robin says as she gets up on shaky legs. "That's how hetero sex works."

I nod my head, but my eyes wont leave the strap around my waist, glistening with her release. She taps my hips and helps take the toy off of me and then puts it over on her chair and runs to the bathroom.

I can't stop looking at the toy.

"Do you have any questions?" Robin asks from her bathroom.

"Uh, no! Not really!"

She comes back into the room in her sports bra and a new pair of underwear and then pauses when she catches my face.

"You definitely have questions," she laughs.

I feel a blush warming my cheek. I do, but they might ruin the friendship.

"No, no it's okay."

"Babes, you just watched me cum. There's nothing we can't talk about now."

I weigh my questions, trying to figure out which to ask first.

"Can you-" I pause and steel my nerves. "Can you show me how to kiss?"

Robin's eyes go wide, "uh, okay, yeah."

She climbs back on the bed and settles in front of me. Pushing a strand of hair behind my ear she cups my cheek and brings my face closer to hers. Robin's eyes search my face and I lose patience.

I close the gap.

I press my lips to hers and pull back. She's stunned for a moment before I lean in again. This time she meets me halfway. Lips pressing against mine harshly. Her tongue swipes at my lips and I open my mouth to her. Our tongues meet and I moan into her open mouth. I shift myself up on my knees so I can be nearer to her and she lets me. Without our lips separating, she's guiding my waist so I straddle her.

She breaks away, "you definitely don't need kissing lessons."

I don't care what she says, trailing hot kisses down her neck.

"Love," Robin whispers. "Please."

The beg makes me come back up and meet her eyes. I move for a kiss but she pulls back.

"I need to know what's happening before we continue."

I whine, needing her lips. "Robbbb."

"No," she says sternly, lifting me from her lap and sitting me in front of her. "I won't take advantage of you in this state. I need you to tell me what's happening and what you want."

Robin

"You," she breathes, her chest rising as rapidly as my heartbeat. "I want you, please?"

"Wait, wait, wait." Am I hearing this right?

"Robin please, I never thought it was right until tonight—until seeing you come undone above me," she pauses and grabs my hand to play with. She runs her fingers along my own before saying, "when I've touched myself, it's always been to you."

My mouth goes dry and I go speechless.

She keeps playing with my fingers while I sit in front of her in a small state of shock. But then, she drags our intertwined hands between her legs. She moves our hands into her panties to pulls my hand to her center.

"Feel how wet I am for you."

That breaks me and I jump towards her. She giggles as we fall onto the bed, lips locking again, my hand still in her panties. I stroke lazily at her wet folds and she moans into our kiss. My thumb finds her clit and she leaves the kiss with a gasp, I feel her cunt retract against my finger and can't wait to feel her clenching my fingers when I finally find my way into her. I take the opportunity to kiss down her neck and bite at the juncture of her shoulder.

"Take your shirt off," I demand.

My thumb continues to rub her clit as she rids herself of the fabric and shows me all of her—almost all of her.

"No bra?"

"They're uncomfortable," she gasps as I take a hard nipple into my mouth at the same time that I start to probe her hole with my fingers. "Robinnnn."

I push one finger into her and feel just how wet she is. So slick for me, so beautiful under me. I finger her while laving at her tits, taking turns sucking and biting at each nipple until she's writhing under me.

I take my mouth and hand from her. Lifting my hand to my face and taking the finger that was just in her into my mouth.

Her eye's go wide.

"So fucking sweet, god I want to taste you?"

"Taste me?"

I chuckle, "you're so innocent it's insane. You know how I sucked on the strap?" She nods. "That's oral for guys. Oral for us is being eaten out. Can I eat you out?"

She hesitates.

"What do you want, love?"

"Can you fuck me first? With your strap? I want to know how it feels."

God this woman will be the death of me.

"Yeah," I say, getting off of her to retrieve the toy. "Let me go clean it first." I move towards the bathroom.

"No," she says quickly. A blush creeps onto her cheeks again.

You

"I want you to fuck me with it, with your cum on it," I say the second part in a hushed tone.

"Say it again?"

"Fuck me with your cum still on it," I blurt out. "Please?"

Robin's eyes go dark. "What a dirty dirty girl. Who would've thought. Innocent little you, wanting to get fucked with my cum covered cock?"

My pussy clenches at her chiding and I cower as she steps into the harness and secures her strap onto her hips.

She comes back to the bed and grabs my chin so I meet her darkening eyes. "Don't hide away, baby. You asked for this so be excited, I'm gonna fuck you just like you asked."

I go to lay down on my back but Robin stops me.

"Nope, I'm going to show you the top position for guys." Robin says. "It's also my favorite to fuck in. Get on all fours, ass towards me."

Doing as she says, as soon as my ass is in front of her she smacks it and I jolt forward with a gasp, but then she leans down and kisses where she smacked. "What a perfect little ass. I'd love to take it someday, if you'll let me. But we can work up to that later."

She taps her strap against my wet cunt. It's cold now, the fan going chilled Robin's cum as it sat on her chair out of use.

My body moves for me, against me, and pushes my ass into Robin's waist. One hand on my hip, the other grabs her cock and pushes the tip through my pussy, teasing my hole and meeting my clit before sliding back and into me.

"Robin," I moan her name as she enters me. I feel so full of her and can't help but push back into her, unknowingly taking more of the strap until it hits a spot in me that has my knees weak and pussy clenching. I lean down onto my elbows at the sensation and Robin moves to lean over me.

"Move, please," I beg. And she does. Robin pulls the strap almost all the way out and then pushes back into me, starting at a slow pace at first but quickly speeding up to a relentless one.

I'm gasping between moans as the tip of her cock hits just right inside of me. Pleading for her not to stop, and she doesn't.

Instead she presses down into my back and wraps a hand around my waist to find my clit. My pussy clenches as she runs circles around the bud, eliciting more noises from my lips as she fucks me.

"So-close-" I groan.

"You're safe, you can cum, go ahead baby. Cum for me."

Something in me snaps and my vision goes white as my legs shudder and try to close. Robin keeps dragging her strap in and out of me as I climax until I beg her to stop.

Robin

The noises she makes when she finishes are heaven to me. She's gasping and moaning and I can't stop fucking her until shes begging me to stop.

I pull out and see her release start dripping out of her.

"I need to taste you," I breathe. "Lay on your back for me."

She does as I say, body spent and willing, as I take my strap off and drop it onto my nightstand. I'll clean it later.

Laying on my stomach on the bed, I grab her thighs and push them apart opening her to me.

"God your pussy is so pretty," I say before diving right in and licking up her slit from hole to clit.

She arches off the bed with a cry, her hands finding their way into my hair as I worship her cunt with my mouth. My tongue and mouth are focused on getting every last drop of her release, tongue darting in and out of her as she squirms.

My arms instinctively wrap around her thighs to hold her down as I take my fill. I move from her cunt to her clit and lave at it. Circling it with my tongue before sucking it into my mouth, earning the loudest scream yet from her lips. A scream of my name.

"ROBIN!"

"You gotta be quieter babe, don't need the entire neighborhood knowing you're being ravished by the town lesbian right now," I smile, taking a brief break to look at her fucked out face and kiss her inner thigh.

And then I'm back in her cunt, paying all the attention to her little bundle of nerves while one arm leaves its wrap around her leg so I can finger her as I suck.

It doesn't take long for her to cum after adding my fingers. And she does, wholly and loudly. Her body arches off the bed and her thighs try to close around me as I move my mouth from her clit down to taste more of her release. Her legs are shaking and her hands are pushing me away from her cunt.

I look at her and suck off the fingers that were just inside of her before licking my lips and smiling.

You

Her chin is shiny with my release and I can't think straight.

But that's okay because I definitely am not.

"You taste so fucking good," Robin says, crawling up to me. She kisses me deeply and I taste myself on her tongue.

"Show-show me how girls fuck," I breathe against her lips. "It's more than that right?"

"Babe, you need to rest, you just had two orgasms," she laughs, peppering kisses down my neck.

"Wanna make you feel good though, will it make you feel good?"

"Love, you've made me feel so good tonight, promise."

"Please," I beg. "Show me?" My hand moves down her body to her mound and inches further and further. Robin opens her thighs to me and reconnects our lips as I trail fingers up her slit and find her clit. She moans into my mouth as I rub and rub, my own pussy getting wet with arousal again.

"A-ah ok-ok," Robin grasps my wrist and stops my movements. "I'll show. Sit up for me."

As I do so, Robin gets up on her knees and moves towards my waist. She kneels in front of me and tucks her left leg under my right, and my right above her left.

She holds me up by the small of my back before explaining, "lesbian sex is a lot—oral, toys, fucking with straps—but this is scissoring."

With that she lowers me down at an angle and I feel the heat of her wet cunt before actually feeling her pussy rub against my own.

"Fuck, Robin," I moan, arms wrapping around her shoulder as she guides my hips to rock along her own as they move. Her mouth latches onto one of my tits as we rub against each other. Warmth seeps from me to her and this feels like the most right thing ever.

How could this ever be a bad thing?

Robin is huffing along with the movement of our bodies, her head thrown back, eyes screwed shut. I cup the back of her head with my hands that rest at her neck and pull her mouth to mine, taking over the movement of my hips so she can grasp onto me and pull me ever-so closer to her. We move in sync, rocking and kissing and moaning until we reach the end and climax together feeling the warmth between our bodies spread more and more until we're tingly with feeling and looking at each other like a lightbulb just went off.

"My turn to taste," I say moving from Robin's lap and laying down on the bed.

Robin

She beckons me with her eyes and her hands as they guide me by my thighs so I hover above her.

"You sure you've never done this before," I laugh in a sex-drunk haze.

"Never, you're my first but I've imagined my lips on you hundreds of times by now."

I moan at her confession and shift closer to her mouth. She has no patience though, and pulls me down so her hot, wet tongue licks up my cunt.

"FUCK!" I moan above her. My hands shoot to the headboard to steady me as she takes her sweet time licking and sucking curiously, finding a rhythm. Her lips circle and suck at my clit and I encourage her, "right there, yes, god, yes-"

It's like I can feel her smile against my pussy, and she stays, sucking on and trailing around my clit with her tongue. I start to grind into her, and she shifts her focus to my hole, licking around it before plunging her tongue as deep as it will go. I jolt and she continues to fuck me with her tongue while I grind on her, her nose hitting my clit just right with each roll of my hips.

"So-so close, baby. So close," I gasp.

She moves back to kissing at my clit and within a few rolls of her tongue I'm done for. Thighs clenching around her ears, a silent moan leaving my mouth open as I shudder above her.

She taps my leg and I move off of her, collapsing backwards onto the bed beside her. I turn and press a kiss to her knee beside my head and she reciprocates with the same.

We lay in silence, catching our breath.

...what now? I think. But she speaks before I get a chance to ask.

"Well...I'm definitely not straight."

We laugh together.

Everything will turn out okay.

#robin buckley smut #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x reader smut #robin buckley x you smut #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fic #robin buckley smut fanfic #robin buckley smut fic #ceebs' asks

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seokch4n · 3 months

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lesbian roommates with benefits hyuckle

inspired by big boss, touch me, and dive by victoria monét :)

PREVIEW

a/n: this is gonna be a real long one and the first one i’ve wrote this long, here’s a little peek since i don’t know when i’ll really finish😭 also i def need to edit this but here’s a peekkkk not much hyuckle here YET but

chenle

I don’t really remember how I felt about her before what had happened. I did see the way her gaze would linger at my chest everytime I’d wear crop tops around the house. She’d also listen to my breakfast rants like it was an episode of her favorite podcast. And she lovesss herself some emergency intercom.

hyuck

She’s the prettiest girl in the world, no one else can compare. On move-in day I had knocked on the door and the girl who opened it looked out of this world. We shook hands, “Hi, I’m Chenle but everyone calls me le for short, i’m a business major, you?” She flashes me the cutest eye smile, wow.

Chenle had just got out of the locker room after dance practice, her and renjun donning matching two piece sets contemplating going to Johnny’s awaited start-of-the-semester party.

Jun looks her friend in her right eye, “You know we already have a 8 minute routine and calc hw for days, are u sure about this?” Le gives the other girl a “we are wearing THEE party fits rn you can not be asking me that dumb ass question!” look and the shorter rolls her eyes and looks away from the fellow chinese girl. “Jisung better be there” Chenle almost rolls her eyes to the back of her head. Jisung n Renjun have been fwb for 3 years now. THREE YEARS. Both always talk about the other when they’re not there and look at the other as if they have given birth to their child(ren). Le’s waiting for them to announce their marriage already, she’s sick of this fwb bull. “Pls ask her out before Sungchan does.” Renjun breaks her neck to look back at her. “JUNG???” she asks with wide eyes. “Yeah, the tall girl that we went to high school with.” Chenle looks at the other and her head is in her hands. She mumbles “I should’ve known since that day she basically sat in his lap.” Le stops walking to yank the other into a side hug and pats her head. “It’s alright sungie is CRAZY abt you like I want you to be the mother to my offspring crazy.” This puts a smile on her face u thought hurt her jaw. “Thank you love, you always know what to say and when to say it.” Jun hugs the other with both arms then lets go after 2 seconds to walk up to the uber Chenle bought.

At the Suh Residence

Renjun opens the door and is bombarded with the skunk smell of marijuana mixed with alcohol. Chenle almost plugs her nose but is pulled into a hug by Kun. She says something shortly after but all Le heard was “BITCHHHHH” so she just smiled and hugged the girl tightly back.

“D-“ someone bumps into her. Someone she’s sure she knows but the absence of light isn’t helping. “I’m soooo sorry” the girl says then basically runs over to a group of 5 other girls. All Chenle could focus on was her recoil as she ran away. That ass looked way too familiar.

Kun is saying something else but you here her this time. “Babe did you hear me?” Le looks back at her quickly “Nope, what’d you say?” Kun almost rolls her eyes “That was Hyuck, you know your roommate?” Le almost facepalms how could she not notice that was her? “Fucc, it was? She didn’t even say hi.” Le pouts a little and Kun drags her onto the dance floor to put a smile back on her face. As soon as they get there touch me by victoria monét starts playing.

went from hands on the wheel, to hands on my thigh, to hands on my body in the back of the porsche

Le has Kun pressed to her front and they’re swaying to the beat. Kun runs her hands up her torso and atop her c cups giving them a little squeeze. A breathy exhale comes out Le’s glossed lips, she throws her head back and covers the other girl’s hands.

touch me, feel me

The younger turns her head to the other’s and kisses her slowly. She feels someone burning holes into her skull but this feels so good right now. Kun pokes the others bottom lip with her tongue and eases it into her mouth. Le sucks on it real slow, still feeling the stare. She smiles and pulls away.

“You wanna get out of here?” Kun’s left hand is now full of her right asscheek. It takes a second for Le to decline “I’m so sry Kunnie but I told Hyuck I’d help with her hangover. Maybe next time?” The older girl nods and kisses her cheek goodbye. Le walks off to find some water, if there is any and then plans to leave after she finds Renjun to hug her goodbye. Someone taps her shoulder, could it be? Le looks back and it’s her roommate. Hyuck wastes no time in asking to leave “Wanna go back to the dorm, I feel like ima throw up any second now.” You smile at her and help her stand up, you forget about the water and make your way to renjun who is sat with jisung and a few other friends. You help Hyuck sit nearby and go hug the shorter girl. “See ya tomorrow pretty, remember what I told uuu” Le breaks the hug, helps Hyuck up and waves the other ladies goodbye.

a/n: a lott of kunle but trust this is a hyuckle ficccc

#nct by marie(*^﹏^*)#hyuckle by marie(*^﹏^*)#hyuckle #nct smut #nct dream smut

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cutiewutiepatootie · 5 months

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INTRO / REQUEST INFO:))))

I decided that I am confident enough in my writing to start writing my own fics so here’s a little bit about myself, what I will and won’t do, and the characters and fandoms I will write from. ENJOYYY

intro: Hello, my name is Emma and I’m a lesbian from the USA. A little bit about me is that I love resident evil, I love kpop and collecting kpop albums. I love twice, loona, childish Gambino, laufey, and a lot more!!…like seriously…I like way more artists than that. Not only do I enjoy to write but I also have a very deep passion for art (although I do get mad when my art doesn’t run out how envisioned it in my head…😣). That’s enough about me let’s get on to my info for fics

for fics I really won’t do multi chapter five as I just don’t have the time for it. I mostly enjoy doing drabbles, head cannons, and fics that are sort of lengthy if it’s a prompt I like.

what I 100% will write: fluffy stuff, angst, serious topics (as long as they aren’t too icky but if it’s like let’s say just for example somebody requests the reader/character has problems with their body image I will do that),character x character (depends if I like the ship or not tbh… but I probably will in most cases), wlw, afab reader(x reader is mostly what I’m specializing in🙏), and really anything unless it’s not on my ‘what I won’t write’ list but if you request something that has a certain prompt/though that isn’t on any of these lists but I don’t like it, just remember I’m allowed to freely decline;)

what I 100% won’t write: pregnancy (sorry….), smut, HEAVY angst, anything like at all that has to do with body fluids that aren’t blood (I know this one mostly dabbles into the smut topic but the people on this app seriously can have some peculiar ideas so I just felt the need to incorporate it🤷‍♀️), amab reader, trans reader (I know this can be taken the wrong way but I’m a fully cis person so if I were to write a trans character or reader the amount of times I’d probably say something that doesn’t make sense for the person being trans would get me deleted off the surface of the earth out of embarrassment 🧍‍♀️), mlm(again, can be taken wrongly, but I really just want to do wlw stuff😣😭), mlw (again, I really only want to do wlw stuff please don’t come for me…),any sort on non-con (I know it’s a serious topic and it also dabbles into the whole smut thing…which it really shouldn’t…that’s just like one of the only serious things that I’m not comfortable with writing)

Ok the moment you have been waiting for…what characters I right for!!

resident evil

Helena harper

Ada Wong

Claire Redfield

Jill Valentine

Ashley Graham

Sheva Alomar

valorant

Jett

Killjoy

Sage

Neon

Skye

Fade

deadlock

Other

Lara Croft

Samantha Nishimura

Ellie Williams

My inbox is fully open for requests and I currently have no ideas for fics so do what you can with that my lovelies <3

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madi2112 · 4 months

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Madi's Meanderings vol 40

The Big Easy day 3

Had an early in the day tour of the B.K. House which I had unknowingly passed the night before on the Ghost tour of New Orleans.

It sits right across the street from the place where the vampires in New Orleans folklore originated and around the corner from the LaLaurie House (see yesterday's post)

This house was not haunted. At least it's not advertised as such.

But being it's long history, architecture and decorating it certainly gives off the vibe in spots.

The longtime residence of Francis Parkinson Keyes, who authored 51 books, the house was fascinating and interesting to learn about.

This particular painting has a great backstory:

The painting was discovered by Mrs Keyes on a trip across Europe. Done by a local artist it shows his daughter seated by a lake with a dreamy look on her face. Peaceful and contemplative it's a beautiful and delicate painting.

She immediately wanted to purchase it from the artist.

However, he refused to sell it to her.

She continued to relentlessly hound him and finally a few months later he agreed to sell it.

He did make one change though. Not wanting his daughters image in a strangers home he painted over his daughters face and painted Mrs. Keyes' instead.

Photoshopped before photoshopping existed.

The gardens to the side of the house were also quite beautiful as well.

One of the best things about the tour was the guide. She was knowledgeable. Funny and genuine in her love for the house.

We had to grab a selfie at the end!

A much more enjoyable tour then the previous night.

After another break in the day rest, it was time to stretch my comfort zone for tonight's event.

<><><><><>

I don't go out often to bars, clubs or anything even close.

If at all.

Ever.

So in an effort to push myself a little I decided that I need to break that pattern.

But it had to be just the right place for just the right reason.

Someplace where I felt safe, accepted and welcomed and had a good show (or band) to watch.

I found that perfect combination during this trip.

So I booked a ticket online for definitely something new for me.

Yes, you read that correctly, a Sapphic Speakeasy burlesque show.

And all I can say is just....

Wow!

I had to drive over to the location called The AllWays Lounge as a passing rainstorm made walking a no go.

The lounge itself was comfortable, had a friendly feel and was welcoming to all.

As a translesbian I never felt threatened, never felt stared at (except for my height), never felt awkward or out of place.

The place was crowded with all ages and types of lesbians and it was so nice!

I got more then a few compliments on my dress (a various shades of blue and white summer dress) and even struck up conversations with a few women.

I even had a couple of glasses of white wine. Something I never do.

The burlesque show was fun, naughty and energetic. The host was funny, kept things moving and ran the evening well.

They had all sorts of dancers. Dancers of all sizes, types, and all women. No drag performances.

The energy of the crowd was off the hook. The cheering, the hooping and yelling and shouts of raucous sexy approval was deafeningly loud at times.

This was the first time this very inclusive LGBTQIA+ lounge has done this type of show and it was a huge success. Another one is already set for September.

There were all ages of lesbians. Some lesbian couples some featuring masculine and femme women.

Lots of single attractive lesbian women. I remember one very tall gorgeous blonde (just shy of my height) who hung out towards the back of the room, as us tall people do. If only I was 35 years younger....

I wanted to take more pictures but felt it was intrusive and out of place. But after the performers came out and encourages photos I felt ok doing so.

I took one of the group and ones of my favorites of the evening.

I was incredibly nervous at first but the vibe of the place put me at ease quickly.

The wine didn't hurt either.

If I every make it back here to New Orleans this place is a must visit.

To bad nothing like this exsists in Orlando....

~ Madison

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mommy-issues-haver · 2 years

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if you weren't "born this way"...

then don't try and become it. truly. how many straight and bisexual women have fallen in love with men and wished that they didn't? i think we can see from this current discourse (excuse my language) that the answer is a lot. you're not a lesbian, that's ok. don’t try to be one “for the cause.”

aaaaaand that's where queer theorists come in to suggest you can, in fact, change your sexuality and gender identity throughout your life and even "choose lesbianism" (i will grant this remark by dean spade was somewhat facetious but it’s also just ridiculous and offensive. and i guess spade didn’t really choose lesbianism because they transitioned). this is not even an argument about whether or not you can transition or change sex -- that argument has been settled in the academic world for some time, so they have found a new entirely confounding concept to argue over: that the only thing that defines your identity is how you, the individual, feel in the moment, and that this means that trans medical "care" should be accessible for everyone, regardless of why or how long they've "felt trans."

here is a quote from Marie Draz's piece on why she believes the born this way narrative is "biologically determinist and ahistorical":

When Spade mocked [the born this way] narrative...a therapist told Spade that he was “really intellectualizing this” and that they needed to get to the “root” or the origin of why Spade felt that he needed chest reconstruction surgery. A therapist asked, “How long have you felt this way?” In response, Spade asked, “Does realness reside in the length of time a desire exists?”

first of all, how incredibly condescending and pompous of Spade to suggest that this metaphysical, academic, theoretical understanding of gender is more important than the gender therapist's clinically informed understanding. second, time DOES matter when it comes to elective cosmetic surgery that only has the potential to cause harm to your body.

my point here is to question why the born this way narrative is receiving this backlash in academia today. and I actually think there are a couple of reasons. first, academia is about the constant outflow of new work and new concepts. the world that queer theorists have constructed is not the real world. (which is funny, and you'd think they might get that of all people.) because the work builds upon itself, this rejection of the once-ubiquitous born this way narrative seems to be a natural continuation of trans theory and the mind/body dichotomy that has been reconstructed by queer theorists. the constant reach toward euphoria is ultimately something very religious in nature and not something that can be rooted in observable physical reality as homosexuality is. at any time one can "see the light" and become a convert, lured in by promises of euphoria and the satisfaction of a deep, internal longing that you didn't even know you had. to the true believers, this is a beautiful idea, and why wouldn't they want to share it?

the other reason i believe that they are now rejecting this narrative is that it is necessary to undermine the concept of biologically driven homosexuality because it doesn't fit in the narrative of sexuality tied to gender as something fluid and mutable as opposed to sex/genitalia. if someone is gay by nature, then they are attracted to same-sex genitalia and not the culturally created construct of one's gender. therefore being homosexual is not only a null category, but one that undermines the entire basis of present-day queer theory.

i just want to finish by saying it's truly laughable that through thousands of pages of dense, convoluted academic writing, queer theorists have returned to a mirror image of the conservative understanding of identity. i think that's just the result of faith-based ideology.

#radblr #radfem #radical feminist safe #radical feminist community #radical feminists please interact #radical feminism #radical feminists do touch #radical feminists please touch #radical feminst #lesbian radfems

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littlestartemis · 2 years

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Super Lesbian Animal RPG Review (spoiler free)

(copied from my steam review)

While I'm tempted to just make a one sentence "sounds gay I'm in" review and call it a day, I genuinely feel like that would be a disservice to everything I experienced with it.

Point by point, starting with music, I loved everything about this game. The music has a retro FEEL to it, without being straight up chiptune. It's very relaxed and pleasant most times, which makes the off kilter and upsetting sounds of some of the more important dungeons all the more impactful. The battle themes hit hard, character themes hit all the right notes. Absolutely no complaints.

The writing is incredibly clever, and overall just entertaining. In my opinion, the best way to make a compelling original world is thus: no matter how ridiculous the world may seem to us on the outside, everyone inside of it should treat it seriously. Because for them, it IS their reality. While the dialogue is very cheeky, and genuinely funny on frequent occasions, it never feels like its shattering your immersion to look into the camera and go "would you get a load of THIS nonsense?" The characters are believable and grounded despite living in a world of magical multicolor furries, and their relationships and dynamics feel real enough to make you care about them. At no point did I go out of my way to speak with someone or investigate something and come out disappointed. Every additional dialogue path and optional conversation was a treat, and the lore and worldbuilding felt fantastically well thought through.

Mechanically, while it is a very Classic style turn based RPG at its core, it feels like it does just enough unique with its additional mechanics to add depth without becoming obtuse or hard to grasp. Everything is simple to execute, without being boring, and even at max level I found myself mostly engaged with even common endgame enemies. Not much more to say here, but I truly enjoyed the gameplay without getting bored of fighting enemies, and never felt the need to grind.

The art direction is additionally truly gorgeous. I played at fullscreen for the entire game, and while initially it might look a LITTLE bit fuzzy compared to playing on its native windowed resolution, I genuinely don't think it hurts the aesthetic much. Everything is cohesive, vibrant, and overall the entire game has a very cozy look and feel to it. I am a resident Desert World Hater and this one was a treat to explore and discover. If you have a problem with the character designs, then I recommend you reexamine your personal biases and yank the stick out of your rear. Same can be said for the "Lesbian" element of the game. It's in the title for a reason.

My only complaint, cliche as it sounds, is that there wasn't more of it. Ultimately a roughly 30 hour adventure for me, playing to 100% completion. But I don't think your dollar equates to your playtime, so this was hardly a concern. Would I have liked to have gotten another 10 hours out of it? 20? Double that? Obviously, I'm in love with this world and cast. But what I did get was a tightly packed, neatly made gift of an experience start to finish.

This is easily in my top 3 games of 2022, by a wide mile. It's criminally cheap. Do yourself a favor, get it, play it, enjoy it, let go and let the world take you. To simply say "it's worth it" would be an understatement, and I look forward to anything else this creator presents in the future.

#SLARPG #Super Lesbian Animal RPG #arte-missed the point

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baelmoder · 1 year

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it really is a godsend that nobody is here

i've always felt like i lived in a shadow, maybe of some building that nobody else could really see, despite all of them living within it. now i think that building is god, but it is a dead and uncaring god, or it is asleep, and i dont want to awaken it. everything is sunlight, and god is the sun, and sunlight burns me because i am unfit for it. who knows what kind of unholy bullshit is going to come out of that building when i tickle its belly the residents already hate me lets shelf that for a second lol

i left twitter, let's say, more than two years ago. i was on it for a few years? and before that i was basically never actually on social media. there were a few moments where i /tried/ to enter some community or another? like i joined a souncloud mashup server once (the atrium), and i briefly entered a discord for an anime essay channel, but i left and i got kicked out because i was saying ass backwards reactionary logic shit. so the biggest thing i ever did was Be Kae Dotmoe, and what that meant was, plunging blindly into anitwitter, orbiting around the plasuible deniability right wing podcaster losers like Polyphemus, until I found kayfaraday, resident extremely weird christian chiptune artist who at least creatively had the same affect as me, of the sort of nonsensical schizophrenia on which postmodernist ficiton thrives and upon which fascism subsists. nazism, like, relies on genocide to build the pyramids, and relies on people like me to put aliens in its thrusters.

and then i met good people. i met a bunch of lesbian lolicons is the insulting thing to call them. i like women, and i am a girl, and i hate the world of adults so id like to think we were cut from the same cloth? but maybe because i still have something i havent gotten diagnosed, which i doubt because ive met therians, ive met littles, ive met people with adhd and bpd and clinical schizophrenia, people who are plural and shit. but i havent met people like me. they couldnt put up with it. i hurt them a lot. so i had to leave. also i got bored of the nazis when they started being predictable, and also, like, obviously evil and wanting me dead i guess but who doesnt right.

So i left, not for Drama and not for Discourse, but because, like much of my life, i felt like i wasnt welcome and i wasnt making much of it. also? I just couldnt handle it anymore. i grew incredibly jealous, it made me feel physically sick to see people happy. to be themselves, to be with the people they loved. to do things that expressed this happiness about themselves and others, and the things they shared. i lived more than an ocean away. it felt like i never had a chance, and that feeling overwhelmed me. i've always been living under the ocean, but i guess the submarine depressurised? i dont know. im still alive anyway, im here, but its so quiet now. anyway, i was also getting really paranoid, on one hand nobody talked about me so i was going to die alone and never get to be kae, on the other hand the few people who did were surely badmouthing me in places i wasnt invited to. they let me hang around but i was never invited to the parties. i know of this metaphor because i read it in american stories about school children and stuff. i dont relate to it personally because when i was in school i didnt even "get to hand around". the only two people i talked to was a kid with aspergers and a furry. we talked about ytp and mlp. well, the point is, they dont talk to me anymore anyway. i randomly came out to a schoolmate i knew from back then? i helped her out a few times? I printed her musical score, she was in chinese orchestra. i asked for a favour in return, that being a hug. i didnt love her or anything, i just really needed it? and in all that time twitter is basically over anyway. tumblrs still alive, but like. im not Doing A Thing. Im never going to Do A Thing again. im "over it".

i guess what im really getting to, though, is, im trying to figure out what I /Am/ or what Im /For/. like, what is this machine or tool or toy built for. Me and keffie clicked, we hella schizoposted? I wasnt putting it on. i know the nazis are completely disingenous but theres a trace of genuine fun behind all the larping, costumes is fun. but i wasnt even slightly cynical, i was really just.. fully sincerely and desperately myself, all the time. i cant help but be myself, even if myself never works. so like Im SOMETHING, that nervous energy and constant bullshit and rambling sentences and trying to link concepts. and yea? I figured out im a girl? Im like, another one of the million trans girls with a mommy kink who identifies with being a puppy but who still likes cock or whatever. im not denying that im not special, i dont hate to be one of many. but also im a failure, even around these people. i cant live up to them, even if theyre nothing to honour. they hate me, because im marked by something i cant even see. So like, what is that

Why, even when i found an ensemble cast, do i never succeed in contributing to the narrative? to canon or episodic structure? Im like an npc, im a wandering trader,the comic relief, except not very well liked anyway. im like if the doctor told me to see the master clown pagliacci but i was jared leto. i dont fit here. i didnt feel right, when i was in the army. i dont feel right when im working right now, in a medical lab. i couldnt fit in with the girls even when they were closer to me than any other group of people i could classify.

so, really, i think im starting to get sympathetic to machines, to ai. i briefly edated a schizotypal adhd trans girl (lol hi vicky) and she was talking about like, uhhhh, D&G and like, machines. I didnt like Machine because machine + autism to me always sounded very teleological, very speicfically western philosophy and consequently Science as we know it, the modern material physical consensus reality thingamagic with dialectical monism. but im getting it now maybe

Im not built, for being around people, or relevant. I was born, to be put in a plastic box, in the middle of nowhere, with holes on all sides, where, among a nest of scaffolding structures, unlimited paper, plush toys and string, i develop weapons of mass destruction in magic systems that have never existed and will never come to exist. and every once in a while, id be let out, for a walk, or for a treat, and to remember long lost friends, who spin in axes i cannot comprehend in a magic system i cannot understand

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facepalming-since-chernobyl · 2 years

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as a resident lesbian AND karamel fan since their first talk while he was in that jail cell, i would like to ask you to please stop telling other lgbt people what they should feel or think or say. everyone sending anons are saying theyre not gay but speaking over lgbt people and that isnt ok. if you dont like the stereotype then ok but this is getting uncomfortable for me, watching str8t people talk over actual lgbt people. i get some gay vibes off sadie too tbh. can we just move on ffs??

oh and saying its insulting to be called a lesbian, as a lesbian, is really hurtful. to the other anon please dont say things like that. ty

Anon, but where the other people sending messages said they were straight? And where exactly they said what lgbt people should think, feel or say? I know my English reading skills suck in general, but I seriously don't know to what messages you refer? And i want to know, because it seems I massively lack awarness and if I want to change it, I need know what exactly.

As I said, I have nothing against Saddie being lesbian. But can you tell me if you felt it earlier, when the first pics from the set were released (the yelling, drinking, showing middle finger pics) or now, after the black and white hat pic?

Also, I'm pretty sure the other anon didn't say that being called a lesbian is insulting, just said he/she is not a lesbian. Anon spoke about LL's comments in general "I think Leigh's comments just come off as insulting, but maybe that's her goal." Not only that one comment, but other that were mentioned here in the past too, covering other topics, I think.

#anons

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hsm-sapphic-selfship-fanfiction · 23 days

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Humuhumunukunukuapua’a (June 2007)

While on nighttime maintenance shift, mostly to audit paperwork and make sure the residents are satiated I saw Sharpay and Ryan come downstairs in ridiculous Hawaiian costumes

“Sharpay!” I whispered “what the hell? I know you want to spark the rumour mill with Troy, but THIS!” I looked her up and down “that’s not even a real hula skirt” Sharpay suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me in. Why am I aroused? I pray that the dripping sounds are the fountain and not the sound of me having to admit my fantasies about the blonde at the worst time possible. She shoved a costume into my chest, commanding me to “change”. “But Miss Evans, this is Hawaiian culture you’re appropriating for whatever plan you wa…” suddenly, she grabs a fistful of my hair and quietly growls “do what I say or say goodbye to your job here, and I will have to spank you for that, after all, do good girls misbehave at their jobs?” “No, Miss Evans” she let go, leading me to fall to my knees “I love you Miss Evans” I kiss her feet before running off to change. Ryan, stood there slack jawed, I could barely hear Sharpay say, “it’s all a joke, I would never fire her, I’d just spank her, I’m not a monster”

***

The other girls found me and helped dress and groom me, “it’s a short piece, and all you need to say is Humuhumunukunukuapua’a, malahiki malaniki hoo, humuhumunukunukuapua’a ooh, awawa waka diki waka diki pu pu pu” they said comfortingly

“Humu humu… nuka nuka, apua ah” I practiced until Sharpay snuck up behind me and hugged me from behind “oh hi ducky” i murmured. she chirped back “hey kitty”. We conversed back and forth even during our trust falls, until Sharpay said, “sorry kitty but I gotta go on now and become Tiki” I cringed internally “see you the other side pumpkin”

***

After the song literally about a Prince who is a pig headed fish, Sharpay was all giggles and fun “Go pick out a wine maid, time to celebrate our win, I’ve made everyone think I’m crushing on Troy, Gabriella’s probably getting into trouble with Fulton right now, meaning she gets into a strop with me, everyone thinks I screwed them out of a summer. I interrupt “and Ryan?” She smiles and laughs “he’s a good kid, and he likes the others too much to side with me, that’s by design” I look confused “don’t you think this is a lot for one plan, I mean, what’s the prize if you win, oh yeah people are distracted from your autistic lesbianism, but you make yourself unlikeable in the process”

“Y-you like me… and Zeke likes me”

“That’s not my point, he’s a horny teenager”

“Then, what is your point?”

“Long term friends, that’s my point” the hair ruffling and stroking from Sharpay turned to a quick and sharp tug. She firmly ordered me to get a wine and to mull it in the kitchen for her

I had my grandmother’s 70 year old Manischewitz stored away in my room so I used that and boiled it in two bowls, the regular bowl with the usual ginger, Serrano peppers and sauce, raisins, garlic powder, Oregano, etc, and the Princess bowl, with grated habanero, ginger, cloves, rosemary, juniper and sloe berries, beetroot, Prunes, blueberries and pineapple juice. I poured six glasses of each and served, with Sharpay congratulating me on my hard work. Amazingly enough the next morning she even told me about how she was feeling so tense that night and how everything felt radically cleared that morning and that she wanted to extend my contract when summer was done in order to “give her body order” sure, love, sure

#high school musical #sharpay evans #proship #proselfship #proship selfship #self ship #bd/sm relationship #my s/is #my s/i in HSM universe is ethnically Jewish on her mother’s side

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jonesy-and-max · 11 months

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part 17: Jonesy & Jamie

Jonesy fussed with her bangs in the rearview mirror as she drove towards her date with destiny at the Silver Mine. Her eyes darted from the mirror, back to the road in front of her, squirmy without her hat. She felt naked, but at the same time a bit free, like at least for tonight she wasn’t your everyday Jonesy. She wasn’t the Jonesy she had been for the last nineteen years of her life. Maybe for tonight she could be better, she could be someone Jamie Reynolds would want to hang with, maybe even kiss. She pressed her knees against the steering wheel, keeping the car straight, as she lit her inhaler/pipe and took as big a hit as her lungs could hold. She needed to chill out and fast. She thought of taking a few hits of Squirt, but had a feeling in her gut that the universe would let her know when it was time to light one of those bad boys up. As it was, they still rested safely snug in the inner rim of her cap.

The Silver Mine was absolutely packed that night. Having a band like Sleater-Kinney come through town was a huge deal, especially for a small town like Lake’s End and the even smaller punk community that resided there. The venue itself was a pub/bar/performance showcase, built inside a small industrial warehouse. It was the most popular place, and easily the coolest place, to go for the college aged crowd. Teenagers from the surrounding area were known to sneak in constantly, but no one ever seemed to get in trouble for it.

Jonesy found a place to park on one of the nearby side streets and walked briskly to the bustling parking lot of the Silver Mine. People of all sizes, shapes, ethnicities, and social cultures arrived and congregated in the parking lot. They smoked and laughed, kissed their partners, and talked and talked and talked. Jonesy stooped anxiously through the crowd of punks and hipsters, desperately searching for any sign of Jamie Reynolds. She chewed on her thumbnail and stood her full height, standing on tippy toes to try and see where they could be.

“Jonesy!” A melodic voice called.

She looked around, finally landing on the direction the voice had come from. Sitting on the trunk of her green Honda was Jamie Reynolds, five beautifully androgynous people hung around her and stared at Jonesy as she called her name. Jonesy let out a short breath at the sight of her and tugged her polo down, unconsciously self conscious.

Here we go. No turning back, now. Jonesy took another deep breath and tried to focus on not sweating. She tried not to think about how she was walking, Am I walking weird? How do I normally walk? Is it normal? Do I walk like a crazy person?? Just one foot in front of the other. Same as every other day. Jonesy stiffly made her way over to Jamie Reynolds, nearly tripping on her own feet.

“Hey! Jamie Reynolds!” Jonesy trotted over.

“Jonesy! I am so happy you came!” Jamie jumped off the car and ran up to Jonesy.

Jonesy blushed, “I mean, how can I say no to a night out with…uh,” She caught herself, “A night out to, uh…see Sleater-Kinney!”

“Seriously!” Jamie clocked her hesitation, but ignored it.

The athletic, impeccably styled, androgynously, feminine boy that stood next to Jamie with their arms crossed, looked Jonesy up and down.

“Someone reeks of pot.”

Jonesy blushed, “Oh, um.” She smelled herself.

“It’s fine. I’m just deadly allergic, that's all.��

“Jasper, settle down. You’re not allergic, you just can’t handle your high.” Jamie rolled her eyes and smirked.

Jamie took Jonesy’s hand and pulled her in close, and smelled her neck. A wave of goosebumps shuddered Jonesy’s body.

“I think she smells fucking incredible. Earthy, witchy.” Jamie pulled Jonesy’s hand to her, taking another smell with her eyes closed, then opening them just so, “I love it.”

“Christ, you’re such a lesbian, Jay,” Another gorgeous friend of Jamie’s poked her in the side, causing Jamie to giggle and play fight with the poker.

“Jonesy! Let me introduce you,” Jamie wrestled herself away and stood in front of the group, arm around Jonesy’s waist. “This is Jonesy (don’t call her Lindsay), she’s a gorgeous, powerful, punk, badass who runs the video store.”

“Well, I don’t run it, I just, well, me and my friend Max, we just love the place and -” Jonesy blah blah blahed all over the place.

Jamie ignored her word salad and pressed on, “Jonesy, these are my closest friends. We all met at either theater camp or band camp. They're my real family…” She looked at them with loving eyes as all six of them held hands, performing for an audience of one (or six).

“This is Tag.” An athletic, gorgeous, traditionally masculine boy, with sunkissed caramel skin. Long, wavy brown hair you could lose your hands in, and impossibly blue eyes you could drown in.

“This is Jen.” A waifish boy with soulful eyes, “This is Mickey,” A short, strong girl, wearing all black, with broad shoulders and shaved black hair. She wore subtle black makeup, her eyeliner was impeccable, and she had one Ankh earring in her left ear. Jonesy blushed, Mickey was an absolute hunk. Jamie pulled her along, “You already met Jasper,” They rolled their eyes. “And this is Usagi, she’s my half sister from Japan.”

Jonesy had never met anyone from another country before, “Dude, that’s so awesome.” She extended her hand for a shake.

Usagi took a drag of her clove cigarette and blew the smoke in Jonesy’s face.

Jonesy coughed and snarled.

“She has problems with most social interactions,” Jamie scowled at her friend, “And overprotective! That’s why I’m here. I keep these guys in line, cause they’d just be lost without me, right?”

Her friends all chuckled and made snarky little in-jokey chatter back at her in sarcastic agreement.

“She thinks she’s the main character!” Jasper nudged Tag with their shoulder.

“There’s a shocker!” Mickey rolled her eyes.

They all laughed together, Jonesy attempted to join in. Jesus Christ, I wish Max was here. Jonesy sweated and suddenly became very aware of her tongue.

Tag pulled out a six pack that had been reduced by half, with a twist and a tug he released a can of Coors Light, offering it to her, “Pre-game?” Jonesy could tell that smile of his was dangerous. She was sure he’d broken a lot of hearts with that smile.

“Hell yeah, dude.” Jonesy took the can and cracked it open, appreciating the first welcoming gesture she’d experienced from Jamie’s clique.

Jonesy had a couple more beers, finally starting to loosen up when Jamie ordered the party to move into the Silver Mine. They all cheered in agreement and readied themselves for a night of dancing, drinking, and flirting.

Jamie leaned into Jonesy’s ear, “My cousin is the bouncer, he always lets us in.”

“That’s so dope!”

“That’s so dope!” Jasper mocked Jonesy to Jamie’s face.

“Shut up!” Jamie laughed and swatted at Jasper, who grinned and ground their heel on what was left of their clove cigarette. She turned towards Jonesy, “Please don’t beat my douchebag friend up.”

“I’m afraid they’re leaving me with little recourse.” Jonesy deadpanned.

Jamie made an evil laugh, Jonesy grinned and let Jamie pull her along towards the entrance. She was a puppy on Jamie’s leash, she could’ve pulled her off a bridge and she would’ve thanked her. Jonesy was part of Jamie’s crew now as she walked side by side with her, their fingers intertwined. It was unbelievable, it was like a dream, Jonesy couldn’t keep her eyes off of Jamie. She sparkled and shined and being in the glow of her light was intoxicating. Jamie said something to her cousin, the bouncer, an absolute tank of a man, but Jonesy wasn’t paying attention. Jamie looked at Jonesy, gesturing to her and saying something to her cousin, Jonesy just nodded and smiled. Jamie pulled her in closer as the two of them pushed through the double doors of the Silver Mine.

Inside, the Mine was packed. The band wasn’t on stage yet, so people were still getting drinks at the bar and others were ordering food on the second floor. Upstairs, people were starting to claim their spots against the guard rails, drinking and smoking. The whole place was warm, with a humidity generated by its clientele. A smoky haze hung just above their heads, the overhead lighting breaking through like a twilight canopy. Jamie’s friends scattered into the crowd, except for Jasper and Usagi, who locked arms and headed for the stairs leading up to the second floor. Jamie placed the palm of her hand on Jonesy’s lower back and slid it around her waist again, pulling her towards the bar. Jonesy’s ears turned hot and bright red, her heart pounding in her chest. Jonesy thanked God that she had had the guts to wear her midriff polo as Jamie’s hand gripped her hip.

“There’s a good one.” Jamie narrowed her eyes on her prey.

Jamie pulled Jonesy through the thick of people trying to order drinks until her elbow was resting on the table of the bar.

“Hey!” She said, gazing up at a young man with a kind face and big brown eyes. He wore a smart, powder blue, button up dress shirt over a white undertee, and a small gold cross around his neck.

When he realized Jamie was looking in his direction, he looked around almost bewildered, then pointed at himself.

“Me? He, me?” His smile was awkward, but cute.

“Yes, you!” Jamie playfully touched his arm, Jonesy couldn’t pull her gaze from Jamie.

He was clearly flattered.

“So, like, it’s my girl’s birthday today and we could really use a couple beers.” Jamie put on a sweet, ditzy persona, “You see, she just turned…” Jamie slowly, suggestively, slid her hand from Jonesy’s hip, up her waist, under her shirt, finding a firm grip on her ribs, “...eighteen.”

The brown eyed boy had watched the entire journey of Jamie’s hand with stunned amazement. His imagination ignited, he was snapped back to reality when he heard the word eighteen. Jamie had put a breathy emphasis on that number. The boy swallowed hard and blurted out a laugh.

“Wow! That’s…” He didn’t know what to do with his hands, “Yeah. I mean, I’d love to help you two celebrate!”

“Oh my gawd, you are so awesome!” Jamie turned to Jonesy as the boy ordered them some drinks. Jamie gave Jonesy a little shake and a mischievous grin. Jonesy chuckled nervously, staring at Jamie’s lips.

After handing them their beers, Jamie pretended to see her friends, talking over the boy about how she needed to go, her friends were over there, “thank you, you’re so sweet!” She steamrolled him hard, whooped it up and once again pulled Jonesy along.

She found a dark spot behind a pillar and laughed, “That was too easy.” Jamie was inches from Jonesy’s face.

“Yeah, he was totally hypnotized by you.”

“Come on, the moment he heard you were ‘eighteen’ he practically jizzed in his pants! Haha!”

Jonesy laughed along, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“I noticed you weren’t wearing your hat. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen you without it.”

“You…” Jonesy went for it, “You’ve ‘noticed’ me?”

“Well, I’ve seen you around.”

Jonesy’s back was against the pillar, Jamie pressed up against her.

“Jonesy,” Jamie suddenly seemed a little awkward, the first time Jonesy had ever seen her almost vulnerable, “I don’t know if this is dumb or whatever, but…”

Holy shit holy shit. Ho-ly SHIT, is this happening? This is happening, right? Holy shit shit shit shit! Jonesy closed her eyes and moved in, her heart in her throat, beating like a bass drum.

Suddenly the lights went low, the sound of reverb on a guitar and some microphone feedback, cut through the din of the Silver Mine attendees. The crowd went quiet, then broke out into cheers and applause. Jonesy winced and Jamie leaned her head around the pillar to see what was up.

“The show’s starting!” Jamie grabbed Jonesy’s hand and pulled her into the crowd gathering in front of the stage.

“Aw, man.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, man! Uh, hell yeah!” Jonesy wiped the sweat forming underneath her bangs.

Jamie squeezed and elbowed her way through the crowd while Jonesy provided backup and defense. They reached a wall of people, ass to elbows, that could not be breached. Jonesy had an idea.

“Do you trust me?” Jonesy looked Jamie dead in the eyes.

“...” Jamie considered for a moment, “Absolutely, I do.”

Jonesy grasped her hand and spun her behind her, getting down on one knee.

“Get on!”

Jamie hopped onto Jonesy’s back, gripping her tight around her collarbone. Jonesy braced herself, and charged forward, letting the combined weight and momentum do its job, they burst through the human barrier. As Tucker, Brownstein, and Macfarlane took to the stage, Jamie and Jonesy were enveloped by the crowd and released into the desperately patient pit about to unleash. It churned and simmered, its inhabitants vibrating with the energy of a supernova. The opening chords of “Little Mouth” erupted from the stage and it was almost too much for the crowd to handle. Cheers ignited from the crowd and the pit became a thunderous whirlpool, its energy finally released. Jamie and Jonesy were lost within, becoming one with the roiling mass of humanity. Inside they cheered, shouted, threw fists, stomped, and thrashed. At times crashing into each other, oftentimes protecting each other from the uninhibited violence of the pit denizens.

After a few more songs, Jamie and Jonesy found their way out, in search of provisions. A couple of older punks hung in the back near the bar and tables, the girls wasted no time flirting with the good natured elder asskickers, joking, sharing some laughs and a basket of fries. The older men flirted back, buying them a round of shots. They bought them another couple shots for the road as Jamie and Jonesy weaved through the crowd, happening to run into Tag who was surrounded by more than a few starry-eyed suitors. He handed Jamie and Jonesy a couple of cocktails as he charmed and infatuated those around him. Jamie just rolled her eyes, finished her drink, and pulled Jonesy along, once again. They finally found Jasper in a circular booth, the rest of Jamie’s crew had joined back up there as well. The booth was full, a few extra people had been picked up at that point, single-serving girlfriends and boyfriends for the night, so Jonesy pulled over a chair to sit on the outside. Jasper smirked, keeping an eye on Jonesy, enjoying her awkwardness. Jamie noticed the cliche symbolism of Jonesy’s outsider status.

“Jonesy, sit here!” Jamie had taken the spot at the end of the booth. She got up, pulled Jonesy into the seat and jumped on her lap. “There! Now we can all fit!”

Jonesy’s ears went red and she could feel the sweat on her back begin to form.

“Haha! Cool, yeah!” Fuck, she smells good.

Jamie took Jonesy’s hands and wrapped them around her waist. Jonesy’s cheeks flushed red.

“This show fucking rules!” Jamie shouted to her friends, all in agreement.

“It’s okay, I guess. They were better in New York.” Jasper was unimpressed as usual.

Jamie laughed, Jonesy noticed Jamie found Jasper’s acerbic asides to be hilarious, which led her to thinking maybe this is just Jasper’s way of joking around. They were just kind of a dick for the irony of it. Jonesy could get her head around that. She loosened up a little, starting to embrace the vibe of Jamie’s crew. Once you got past the insufferable, hipster, snottiness, you could see it was possibly self-aware.

“I can’t explain why. So, don’t ask me to, because I won’t even answer you.” Jasper continued, “You would know if you knew.”

“Would I?”

“You would.”

“But, only if I knew?”

“I mean, if you knew, then you would’ve been there to know. But you weren’t. And you don’t. And you can’t.”

“Are you having a stroke, Jasper?” Jonesy raised an eyebrow.

Jamie giggled, “Yeah, like, are you good, dude?”

“No, I’m not!” Jasper smirked and drank their Manhattan.

“So, how do you know each other, anyway?” Mickey asked.

“Oh, I’ve known Jonesy since we were in, like, Junior High together?” Jamie turned to Jonesy.

“I mean, we went to the same school, but Jamie didn’t know me. She’s a year older. And I wasn’t exactly cool.”

“I knew you!”

“How??” Jonesy was genuinely puzzled, to her knowledge, she was exclusively with Max until he eventually dropped out. Jonesy had pined after Jamie from afar since day one of seventh grade, but she always assumed she had been all but invisible to everyone else.

“Are you kidding? Everyone knew you guys. That time you guys released all those stray cats into the school…”

“They needed someplace to live!”

“That time you and Max scammed everybody with your fake exorcisms.”

“I maintain my innocence. You look at those guys and you tell me God hath not forsaken them!”

“Oh! That time you got the principal arrested for being a werewolf!”

Jonesy rubbed the back of her neck and shrugged, “He wasn’t a werewolf, but he was a pervert.”

“Animal control shot him with a tranquilizer!” Jamie and her crew laughed.

“He was being hostile!” Jonesy joined them, “He shouldn’t’ve tried to bite that cop!” She thought for a moment, “You know, when you say all that stuff together like that…”

“Like I said, Jonesy, how could I not know who you were?”

“Who’s this Max guy? Is he your boyfriend?” Jen asked.

“Oh! God, no, haha,” said Jonesy, “He’s my best friend.” Jonesy suddenly thought of what had brought her to the Silver Mine. Did I overreact? I mean, how could he do what he did? Gina? That’s fucked up. I have a right to be pissed! I miss him, though. I can’t remember the last time we were apart for this long. Is that weird? I think I’m doing fine without him.

“She’s single!” Jamie shouted to her friends.

“I don’t know, sounds like you spend a lot of time with this Max guy.” Mickey teased.

“I’m not…into him like that. He’s not…what I’m looking for…” Jonesy attempted to be as stealthy as she could.

“What are you looking for, exactly?” Mickey smiled knowingly.

“You know…what…everyone is looking for, I guess…” The sweat in Jonesy’s pits began to soak through her polo.

Jamie noticed Jonesy getting uncomfortable, “Stop playing with your food, Michelle!”

“Oh it’s full names, Jameena?” Mickey flipped off Jamie.

“Come on, Jonesy, let's dance!” Jamie flipped off Mickey in return, hopping off of Jonesy’s lap and taking her by the hand.

Jonesy looked back as Mickey toodalooed after them.

“What did you mean when you said she was ‘playing with her food?” Jonesy suddenly realized just how drunk she’d gotten. Jamie had been feeding her drinks all night and she hadn’t really thought about how many she had, but now she could feel the familiar slosh in her head. She hadn’t been this drunk since she and Max had lifted a bottle of Jameson at the liquor store a few years ago. “Does she wanna bang me, dude??”

Jamie was feeling good, not as melty as Jonesy, but warm and dropping her inhibitions. She wasn’t afraid of telling Jonesy the truth, “Oh yeah. She thinks you’re cute! But she can’t have you, cause you’re all mine tonight.”

“Me? I’m mine?”

Jamie shushed her, “Shhh, don’t tell you, but I think Jonesy is really hot, in this like, Joey Ramone kinda way. Like, you know how Joey Ramone is kind of funny lookin’, but you’d still fuck ‘im? Cause he’s a bad ass? Like that. You’re face is different. In a really good way.” Jamie’s mouth was faster than her brain, “I’m sorry, you’re not ugly! I’m drunk! I don’t know what I’m saying!”

“All I heard was Jamie fucking Reynolds thinks I’m hot! I’ll take it.” Jonesy was more than willing to make compromises on her dignity for the adoration of Jamie Reynolds. “Like I give a fuck at this point!” Jonesy laughed along with Jamie. Jonesy pulled Jamie in close, “I’ll be your Joey Ramone, baby.”

Jamie giggled and pulled Jonesy’s face in close. Their lips almost touching, Jonesy closed her eyes, ready for the moment to finally happen.

“Got your hat!”

Jonesy opened her eyes and Jamie had somehow unclasped her cap from her jean loop and was now wearing it, backwards, of course.

“Hey!” Jonesy weakly snatched at it, “Careful!”

Jamie laughed, putting two hands on the hat so Jonesy couldn’t take it back.

“Hold up.” Jame felt the rim, “What’s this?” She pulled out the two joints of Squirt Jonesy was saving. “Oh shit! Is this…” She ran them underneath her nose, getting a solid sniff, “It is! This is Kenny’s Squirt!”

“I’m saving those, Jamie, be careful!”

“Jonesy! Please, please, please can we smoke one of these? Please, please, pleeeaaase?” She gave her the big ol’ puppy eyes. Jonesy was nowhere near strong enough to say no to Jamie Reynolds begging her to smoke weed together.

“...Of course. Jesus, come on.”

“Yay, yay, yay!” Jamie clapped her hands and giggled with excitement.

The smoke detector in the bathroom had been rendered useless ages ago. You couldn’t smoke in the building, but the bathrooms had become fair game. No one said shit, turning a blind eye to the health code and fire code violations that had begun stacking up in the Silver Mine. It would only be two years later that the place would burn to the ground thanks to a poorly placed cigarette. Luckily no one would be seriously injured, but Lake’s End would lose a major landmark. A place so many teenagers and young adults would experience important milestones. Getting drunk, seeing shows, smoking weed, getting felt up, dates, break ups, all of these precious moments were housed within the very flammable walls of the Silver Mine. Tonight, on opening day of Chain-Slaughter 6, one of those milestones was already in the making.

Jonesy pocketed one joint, and held the other between her lips, lighting it. She and Jamie hung out in the back corner of the women’s bathroom, Jamie sat on the sink while Jonesy leaned against the cool, tile wall. Jonesy took a drag and passed it over to Jamie.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Jamie exhaled and passed the joint to Jonesy.

“Why now?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and me. Me. Here.” Jonesy inhaled and held it for as long as she could before exhaling, “We hardly know each other. I think we’ve had a total of, like, five conversations since junior high. So, why did you want me to come out with you and your friends?” Jonesy passed the joint back.

“I don’t know. I mean, that whole thing with that Farley girl left a bad taste in my mouth. And then I saw you standing out there in the Snap-Mart parking lot.” Jamie inhaled and held it in for a moment, slowly releasing the smoke into the recycled bathroom air. “Do you believe in signs? Like, from the universe?”

“Dude, yes!”

“I just felt like, after the video store, and then seeing you out there. It was like, the universe wanted me to be with you tonight.”

“B-be with me?” Jonesy coughed, choking in surprise.

“I’m glad I was able to get you away from Max for the night. Get to know just you, even just a little bit.” Jamie took another hit and hopped off the sink, “He must've been pissed.”

“Well,” Jonesy hadn’t actually given Max time to properly react, “I think maybe he was just sad he wasn’t going to be there to help me pick out an outfit,” She chuckled to herself. Come to think of it, knowing Max, he might’ve ditched opening day all together so Jonesy could’ve had her night out with Jamie. Even if he hadn’t been invited. Jonesy knew that was true and it made her feel homesick for her counterpart.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jamie ignored Jonesy’s response.

“Uh. Yeah, sure.”

“I have, like, a feeling, and maybe I’m way off base, but,” Jamie made sure no one was listening, “I get this feeling that you might like me?”

Jonesy went completely red and some internal mechanism hit the emergency sweat button. She was way too drunk and way too high for any kind of calm, cool reaction.

“What??” Jonesy scoffed, “That’s…that’s insane. First off, like, we’re both…I mean, you’re a girl…and I’m a girl, too. Both ladies. I’m not…I’m just picky when it comes to…” Jonesy wiped the sweat from her forehead, “Did someone tell you something? Cause, that’s…wack…son. Wiggity wack! I’m gonna…kick…someone’s butt over these allegations!”

Jamie laughed, “Yo, yo, yo! It’s cool!”

Jonesy continued to make scoffing, panicky noises. Jamie took her by the hands.

“Jonesy, it’s cool.” Jamie was feeling really good tonight. The drinks, the excellent weed, Jamie was in love with life. The music, all the people, the warm air of the bathroom, everything just felt amazing. Jonesy’s hands were rough, calloused from playing guitar, toughened by skateboarding falls, and strengthened by a lifetime of suburban backwoods adventures. They were warm in Jamie’s soft, manicured hands. She ran her thumb over Jonesy’s knuckles, taking her time to feel the scars that adorned them, some indented into her skin, others raised and smooth. Damn, that’s hot, Jamie thought to herself. In the fluorescent light of the bathroom Jonesy looked exceptionally pretty. Her eyes shined, full of life, her pale skin flushed with bashful excitement, only served to endear Jamie more.

“Come with me.” Jamie pulled Jonesy into one of the stalls, she couldn’t’ve cared less if anyone saw them.

“WHUH?” Jonesy’s eyes went wide with panic.

Kyle Richard had just turned twenty one and in celebration of the occasion, he, his friends, and his girlfriend went into the city and partied, literally, until the sun came up the next morning. They boarded the earliest train they could get, hungover, some of them still drunk, some of them still high, some of them still both. They ate bacon egg and cheese bagels for breakfast and picked on hashbrowns slowly, so as to not upset their stomachs too much. Greasy food was always a balm to be slathered on an aggressive hangover. Kyle’s girlfriend slept on his shoulder on the train as he finished his hashbrown and hers, slipping it out of her dozy fingers. Miserably, he had to go to work that afternoon, he worked second shift at the mall doing security. It wasn’t glamorous, but it gave him a sense of purpose, and he enjoyed making teenagers cry whenever the opportunity presented itself. That was a week ago. And in that week he had barely even seen his girlfriend, in fact, if he hadn’t known any better, it almost felt like she was avoiding him. The two of them had a…dramatic relationship. Had he cheated? Sure, there had been an accident or two through the years. Had she cheated? Not from her perspective, but from a more honest perspective, the answer was yes, she had.

She hadn’t been answering the phone, and after Kyle had already stopped by her apartment to see if she was there, there was only one place left she would be on a friday night in Lake’s End. Honestly, he should’ve gone to the Silver Mine first, it was essentially her second home at this point. The parking lot was pretty empty at this point, save for a few smokers hanging around, taking a break from the concert inside. Some hipster band Kyle’d never heard of was playing, so he could already tell it would be a packed house tonight. He hated the Silver Mine, just some place teenagers could get drunk and stoners could smoke their dope. They violated so many health and safety laws, it made his skin crawl. If only he could’ve gotten into the police academy, he would’ve shut this place down on his first day in uniform.

Kyle marched towards the entrance, determined to finally get the upperhand in the relationship. She would finally have to admit she was cheating on him, that is, if he was able to catch her in the act. As he stormed through the parking lot, suddenly, from the corner of his eye he saw something large and furry climbing a pipe on the side of the building.

WUH-BAM!

“FwOOF!” The figure body slammed itself onto the lid of the dumpster, bounced off and landed on the pavement with a fart, “My balls!”

Kyle could clearly see him now, a stocky, scruffy dude in a leather jacket. The dude picked his glasses up off the ground, inspected them and returned them to his face.

“Yo, what the fuck are you doing?” Kyle was never one to mince words.

Max was surprised, taking a defensive stance and raising his fists, ready for a fight.

“Shit! Look, man, uh, dumpsters are public property, anything in there is fair use.”

“You were clearly trying to climb into that window.”

“Perhaps…” Max lowered his fists, but raised an eyebrow, looking at Kyle up and down, “Are you a narc?”

“Fuck, no.” He lied.

“Well, then, if you’d kindly, like, go away. I’m on a mission.” Max began climbing the drainage pipe that led up to the small, rectangular window he was never going to be able to fit through.

“A mission?” Kyle crossed his arms, he was vaguely intrigued by this scrappy weirdo.

“Yeah, my best friend’s in trouble and desperately needs my help. I have to get to Jonesy before something really bad happens.”

“Hm. I respect that little dude.”

Max slipped back down the pipe, landing on his feet. He dusted himself off, “I'm not so little.”

“I’m kind of on a mission, too.” Kyle walked over and slapped Max on the arm, causing him to stagger to the left a step, “Here’s what’s up, I’m looking for my girlfriend in there. She kinda forgot to tell me she was going out tonight and when she does that, it usually means she’s here with someone she doesn’t want me to know about.”

“Damn, that sucks, dude.”

“So here’s the deal: If I get you into the Mine to find your buddy, you have to be my backup when I need to kick some ass.” Kyle looked Max up and down, “You look like you can hold your own. At the very least, I need you to be my lookout.” Kyle extended his hand, “What’d’ya say?”

Max didn’t super like being indebted to some preppy fuck, but then again, he needed an easier way into the Silver Mine, and Jonesy was in trouble after all. He would do anything to get to Jonesy’s side.

Max shook his hand with gusto, “You got yourself a deal, Sodapop!”

“My name’s Kyle.”

“Oh, uh. Nah, you know, Sodapop? Rob Lowe in The Outsiders? Cause you’re…” Max gave up, “Very good looking- Nevermind! I’m Max.”

“I don’t really care.”

“I feel like we’re really bonding, the two of us.” Max deadpanned.

He dusted himself off again and rustled his own hair before jogging after Kyle.

“Max…” Kyle mused to himself, as much as Kyle had the ability to muse, “You know, you look kind of familiar, in a weird way.”

“Honestly, I was just thinking the same thing about you.” They looked at each other, their brains both trying to muscle their way through the static of their minds.

“You kinda remind me of this kid I knew back in junior high.”

“Oh yeah?” Max’s mind, incredibly, somehow was able to work faster and better than Kyle’s and he began to recognize his new partner as soon as he began to lay it all out.

“Yeah. So, back then I played hockey, but I blew my knee out. This kid said he would ‘exorcize the demons’ from my knee.” Kyle scoffed, “I was desperate to try anything. So after seeing this kid perform an exorcism on the girl’s bathroom, he seemed legit, you know?”

Max suddenly recalled Jonesy and his’ exorcists for hire “business” from when they were teenagers. They made a few hundred bucks that year. They also made a lot of enemies that year. But, come on! It was all in good fun! Surely no one could hold a grudge against a couple’a loveable scamps just trying to make a (not so) honest buck! Max tried to reassure himself.

“Wowee! Demons, eh?” Max chuckled, his eyes dodging back and forth. “I would never mess with that kind of voodoo business! …So, uh…did it work?”

“It did. For about a day.”

Max now noticed the limp Kyle walked with, every now and then he’d give a little hop, putting more weight onto his right leg then his left.

“But the minute I got out on the ice…” Kyle trailed off, balling his fist tight, “Let’s just say if I ever see that dude again, I’m gonna cave his face in. Comprende?”

“HA-ha-ha!” Max laughed in fear, “Comprende mucho! HA-ha-HA! I bet…I mean, I’m sure he’s…long dead by now!”

“He better be.” Kyle growled.

“A guy like that? I’m sure one of his many enemies has already murdered him, so there’s no need to dwell on that ever again!” Max hesitated and aborted a jolly little punch to Kyle’s chiseled tricep.

Kyle ignored him, ironically, telling his story made him forget why he was telling the story in the first place. After giving the bouncer, Rudy, a nod and a fist bump, the two of them passed through the entrance doors of the Silver Mine without issue. Kyle tended to only be able to focus on one idea at a time and now that he was inside, all he could think about was finding Jamie fucking Reynolds.

#opening day #story #oc #original story #ao3 #writing #original characters #ao3 writer #wattpad #clerks #90s #nostalgia #videocore #Jonesy and Max #i havent posted this to AO3 or wattpad yet #i want to get closer to the end before i do #almost done #maybe one more chapter to go

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