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misserabella · 2 years

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EDDIE MUNSON X FEM! INNOCENT CATHOLIC READER

REMINDER THAT IF YOU FEEL YOU COULD GET OFFENDED BY THIS POST THERE IS NO NEED TO READ IT! I WOULD HATE TO MAKE ANY OF YOU THINK THAT THAT WAS THE INTENTION OF IT WHEN IT TRULLY ISN'T, I DEEPLY RESPECT ALL TYPES OF RELIGIONS! <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

Synopsis;; you didn't know what was happening with you, only that you wanted to dance with the devil under the name of Eddie Munson.

inspired by amazing writers such as @eddiemunsonhotgf and @dinodinodin0 ♡

CW;; references to the bible and church (also, eddie is not a believer and talks about his sinning and also is harsh about god, AGAIN DON'T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY PLEASE), mocking of god, cursing, drug use, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, smut, p in v sex, masturbation, dacryphilia, worshipping kink, god kink, overstimulation, a little bit of perv!Eddie, squirting, spanking, non protected sex (GUYS STDS ARE REAL, WRAP THE DONG UP), cream pie, finger fucking, chocking, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

(this actually got a little bit out of hand…)

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

Word count;; 9k

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“Pray to me. Worship me.”

To be honest, Eddie gave a absolute and incredibly huge fuck about ‘the above’. If there were rules any supposed God had put on a silly book then there was him to break every and each one of them.

It was easy really, look.

“Thou shalt not steal.”

Jesus, what the hell? And literally speaking. Come on, he was not really gonna die from lightning if he borrowed a couple of rings from the punk store, was he?

2. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.”

I mean… More than one mother he has already fucked, so there was that…

3. “Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

… Yeah…

4. “Thou shall not take the name of thy God in vain.”

God could suck his cock, honestly.

5. “Honor thy father and mother.”

Say what now? Didn’t knew her. And him? He could suck his cock too.

6. “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.”

Oh yeah, sure. No lies, blah, blah, sin!, blah, blah. He was always lying (justifiable). Even to himself, for fucks sake! If you went and asked him if he wanted to fuck you, will he say yes? Well, that was not a great example, but y’all get the point.

7. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods.”

Would you count as one of your father’s goods? ‘Cause if that’s the case… He couldn’t really help himself. He was going to make you his any way or the other.

8. “Thou shalt not kill.”

Well, except for that. He really hadn’t done that…

Well, as he was saying…

9. “Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day.”

With how you looked in that tiny little navy skirt and the way your tits pushed against your white catholic highschool shirt? He didn’t think he would be able to keep holy even in a normal day.

And lastly…

10. “I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt not have any gods before Me.”

Oh, but he had one. You.

You were this kind of fucking angel sent from heaven. With your beautiful and silky hair falling to your back in waves, the prettiest and shiny eyes he had ever seen and rosy fully glossed lips that parted to sing along with the church’s choir. With that wonderful body of yours that he would absolutely go down on his knees to worship, you and those curves, ass and thighs that he so has dreamed of making a mess of with his lips.

You had the sweetest voice and personality he has ever known, always so caring, so giving and so sensitive… Oh god, his cock pushed against his black jeans every single time a tear would cascade down your cheeks when you volunteered for those in need, too overwhelmed as you prayed for them.

He wanted so bad for you to pray for him instead, down on your knees, with those pretty lips…

He was no catholic, he never was. But for you? Jesus, he would even enroll in one of those goddamn religious schools, cut his hair and go around like a goddamn prep church boy spreading God’s word if that meant he could stay as close to you as he could.

You had noticed, of course. Who wouldn’t? He was the black sheep amongst all those white ones as the pastor went on and on towards the end of the mass. He was there every Sunday, just to see you. And sooner or later your eyes had drifted to the end of the room and met his. He felt as if he could die a happy man there, when you gave him a sweet smile before getting back to praying.

To your eyes he seemed… Different. Different than any other boy you had ever met. What was comprensible since you were always surrounded by your very well mannered and stiff classmates. If any of them were there, they would probably start saying something about how people like him would end up being abandoned by god and in hell.

You could almost hear them and your father to stay away from his kind when the priest announced that all of you shall receive communion bread from your neighbor. You didn’t know why, but before noticing, you were drifting away from the crowd and towards the back with one of the hosts in your hands, towards him.

His eyebrows rose when he noticed that you were approaching him, no one had before. So he felt clumsy as he stood up from the wood bench in which he had been sitting for the last one and a half hours.

Your eyes met his when you were close enough, and he simply stared at you, at your soft skin, long lashes and cute nose. He was taken back when your hands rose from below and towards his lips. Your cheeks were pink and your eyes darted towards one of the angels carved in the wood walls. He then understood what was going on when he noticed the little bread medallion on your fingers. Fuck, he hadn’t done the communion, so was he not supposed to eat that?

His eyes went back to your expecting face, who was now looking at his indecisive one, attentive.

Fuck it.

He thought as he leaned down and took it with his tongue. You felt your face redden when his bottom lip brush against your finger tips, his brown eyes closing as he leaned back tall, looking down at you with a smirk.

“Thanks, gorgeous.” you slightly jumped on your spot. His voice was so… You couldn’t even describe it with words. What it did to you, how your whole body seemed to have been set on fire and your hands trembled as you nodded, unable to even speak up.

You both stared at each other for what it seemed to be hours on end before you could recompose yourself and turn around to head back to your sit on the front. You were flushed, and you softly slapped your cheeks to focus. And you tried, you really tried, and yet, there you were, sneaking peeks to the metal head every now and then just to find out that he was already staring at you, making you stupidly blush every single time.

Oh yeah, Eddie loved mass now.

The best day of the week was Sunday. No discussion. Maybe a common teenager would actually prefer Friday, but Sunday was the only day of the week he actually got to see you, so that’s that. He could understand his uncle’s confused gaze every weekend when he would tell him he was going to church, but it was fun anyways. He could even see smoke coming out of his ears trying yo understand why him would be going to mass every week.

But oh, well. Anything to get a glimpse of you.

He couldn’t understand it either. It was like an obsession, taking out the stalking shit. He just couldn’t get enough of you and your discreet peeks at him, of how every time you would come to him in mass when the host had to be given and of how you always seemed to blush around him. It was instantaneous, the connection.

Maybe it was true that opposites attract. But he couldn’t focus on that at the moment, his whole being was focused on you.

It was late at night and mass had just finished, everyone was saying their goodbyes at the doors and outside, going to ride back to their homes.

By now, he knew that you always stayed inside for a little bit more, maybe to help the pastor, or pray just one last time before leaving, who knows? He would just wait for you, anyways, blunt on hand and eyes on the wood doors.

The smoke burned his throat as he dragged a new hit from it, and the cold night’s air was hitting his face and blowing his curly hair. The sky was full of stars, but the only sight he would die for was you.

You shivered as you stepped out of the church, waving a goodbye to the pastor with one of your sweets smiles, which disappeared rather quickly when the cold air hit your bare skin. Your uniform was really not made for winter-like nights, and the thin sweatshirt that you had brought with you even less. You groaned when you remembered that today neither of your parents could come pick you up and that you had to walk back home. Good thing was that you lived nearby so it wouldn’t take you long.

You smiled to a few of the families that said their goodbyes, your eyes strolling though the plaza ‘till they met the more wooded part of it and at the same time, a pair of brown ones that stared at you, glistening under the fire of the blunt in between those soft lips that touched your fingers every Sunday. Your cheeks went hot pretty quickly as you looked the other way, your steps not waiting to start moving towards the street, but you stopped halfway, something inside you tugging the other way around. You fisted your hands and squeezed your eyes shut as you stood there, indecisive but knowing damn well what you wanted. Eddie’s eyebrows rose, awaiting for your next move as he stared at your back and silk hair. Surprise filled his factions when you turned around in just a mere second, starting to walk towards him still with your eyes closed shut. As if that would help you…

Cute.

He had to bit down a smile, still looking away and leaning in the tree on his side side while getting a new drag as you closed the distance.

He stared at you when you had finally come to meet him, your eyes darting away from him just to go back in less than a few seconds. He fought the urge to smile once again when he saw you try and say something, struggling to find a way how to start.

He was so close… So close that you could smell the earthy smoke —not truly knowing what it was—that surrounded him and his stupidly addictive cologne. Okay, breathe. You can do this. You can do this.

“Hi.” you stuttered, looking up at him since he was a few inches taller than you.

He smirked as he hit the blunt one more time before temporarily turning it off since he wouldn’t want you to be around the smoke.

“Hi, sweetheart.” he calmly said, slowly blowing off the smoke away from you, saving the rest of his blunt in his pocket. His mind was the complete opposite of his appearance, it was a mess. Holy shit, you were so close. And, fuck, you were talking to him. For the first time ever. This was a fucking dream.

Your cheeks burned when you heard the little nickname, a shy smile pursing your lips. Your brain was probably burning now due to all the thinking you were doing, trying to think about something to say to him. Hell, this was hard. “I saw you on mass.” you muttered, wanting to really kick yourself due to the stupidness that you’ve said. That was something he already knew.

Eddie smiled, giving you a chuckle that made your heart skip a beat. God you were so beautiful… “I know, I saw you too, gorgeous.” And he was high. What only made his infatuation worse. “Are you not going home? No one coming to get you?” he inquired you.

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna walk the way back, my parents couldn’t come today.” you smiled to what he frowned.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he inquired back, chuckling a little bit. “Beautiful girls like you shouldn’t walk alone at night, doll.”

You froze when one of his hands reached to brush back your locks from your face, making your stomach turn.

“We wouldn’t want any bad guy hurting you, would we?” you shook your head in response, to what he hummed. “That’s right… So, why don’t you let me take you home, sweetheart?” he offered you, cautious to not come out as a creep or something like that. He really wanted you to get home safe though.

“Would that be okay?” you inquired, making him smile.

“Of course, gorgeous.” he frowned when he saw you shiver, quickly getting rid of his jacked to hand it to you. “Take this too, I’m sure you are freezing with that uniform on.” you blushed when his eyes scanned your bare legs, your soft hands bumping against his more tougher ones when you muttered a little ‘thanks’ and pushed the warm vest on your shoulders. You felt like drowning, not only because it was absolutely huge on you, but because it smelled like him. With that woody string that you couldn’t really put your finger on.

He mouthed a ‘fuck’ when he saw you on his jacket, your innocent eyes staring at him as you melted on the denim. You looked so beautiful that it made a boner start to grow on his pants. But he pushed the dirty thoughts that filled his mind to the back of it and pressed his palm on your lower back. “Let’s go, beautiful.” he smiled at you as you both walked towards his van, which’s door he opened for you before getting on the driver’s seat and starting the car. Music filled your ears when the radio got turned on, only a whisper to your ears as you were so focused on the way his veiny and big hands gripped the wheel and manhandled it to start driving away.

He made sure you had your seatbelt on, but really didn’t mind to even put his on before getting to the road.

“Where to, sweetheart?” he inquired you, turning down the music a little bit as his eyes quickly found yours, nodding when you gave him your direction.

You both were silent during the drive, not an awkward kind of it, though, more like a warm one. Your eyes wandered around the messy van, which was filled with metal tapes, some beer cans, cigarettes that had stumbled out of the ashtray and notebooks and book on the backseats, which were clearly from D&D.

“You play the guitar?” you inquired when you noticed one red pick hanging from his neck, something you hadn’t been able to see since it has been hidden under his jacket.

He smiled at your question, his body shaking slightly when you leaned over him and picked the pick in between your fingers. The design was really beautiful. “I do, actually, I’m even on a band.” your eyes widened.

“Really? What’s its name?”

“Corroded Coffin.” you nodded. “We play at the Hideout from time to time.”

“How cool, I’ve never met someone who played the electric guitar, on my school they’re forbidden. They only teach us how to play the piano.” you sighed.

“Well, If you liked I could play for you sometime.” you seemed exited at his offer.

“I would love that! I’m sure you’re amazing.” he felt himself slightly blushing, looking at you with a little grin before shrugging.

“I guess I’m good with my fingers.” he chuckled when you only smiled wider, pretty shiny eyes shining under the moonlight and completely oblivious of the lustful meaning of his words. What an innocent girl. “Okay, how about I play for you…, If you play for me too? What do you say, hm?” he said, pulling over in front of your house and stopping the car to turn to look at you. “Do we have a deal, gorgeous?” he inquired while offering you one of his hands on a shake.

You bit your bottom lip anxiously. “Okay.” you muttered, talking his hand in between yours, amazed by how his rough fingertips stayed warm even in the coldest of nights and just how long his fingers were compared to yours. A lightning went down though your whole body when his free hand reached your face, thumb pressing against your bottom lip as his eyes took in just how perfectly sinful they seemed. He dreamed of someday tasting them, breaking them with his teeth.

“I can’t wait.” he whispered, your doe eyes staring into his when he flashed you a smile and pulled away. “Now, get home safe, gorgeous. Don’t keep your parents waiting.” you nodded, following his orders and getting off of the van, not before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek, a shy giggle falling off your lips.

“Thank you for taking me home. I’ll see you next Sunday!” you waved goodbye as you walked towards your door, cheeks flushed and a big smile.

He gave you a wave just as you closed the front door behind your back, his raised hand pressing against the tingling skin of his cheek, where your lips had rested.

She’ll be the death of me…

He thought as he stared his van once again.

And that was just the start of everything.

You and Eddie became close pretty quickly. Was he the best influence? Absolutely not, since he had found a way to take you to the last church’s bench just to keep you giggling and blushing all the way through mass.

He had even introduced you to his friends. They were really cool…, different. There was this little genius named Dustin, who along with his friends always played D&D Friday afternoons, Steve and Robin, who worked on the Film Store and were always discussing the best films of history, and Nancy, the sweetest yet fearless girl you had ever met. At first you felt like an intruder, but they seemed to like you as much as you liked them, since they started to invite you to your hangouts and always ask Eddie about you when they had the chance.

Your parents were surprised, if not astonished, at first when they met Eddie and your group. They were so used to those prude bible lover classmates of yours that it was a shock for them. But once they saw just how happy it all made you, they decided that they’d accept it only if you continued with your bible studies and went to church every Sunday, what you obviously weren’t planning on stop doing.

Something forbidden though, was having boys at home, even more in your room.

But the first time that Eddie knocked on your window a Friday night it all want to… well, Hell.

You were laying on your bed after having had a long bath and fully clothed on your flared night dress, reading a little bit of one of the books that Eddie had lended you: Lord of the Rings. He said that once you had finished the first one he would give you the second. You would lie if you said you understood something, if not anything. But you weren’t that far on the book yet, so maybe you just had to give it time. You were lost on the inked papers when suddenly someone knocked at your window, startling you. With widened eyes you turned just to see a smiling metal head waving at you and pointing at the window lock with a little smile. You quickly closed the book and walked towards it, unlocking it just to see the curly haired get in without making a sound.

“Eddie?” you clasped over your mouth when you found yourself speaking too loud, whispering when your lips parted once again. “What are you doing here!?”

“Just wanted to see you, gorgeous. Is that a sin?” he mocked you, wandering around your bedroom and taking every single detail in as you hurriedly closed and locked your door.

Eddie found himself mesmerized by your room, it was a complete opposite of his: clean, organized, pink…

You grasped away from his hands one of your teddy bears that he had took to inspect, his brown eyes back on you.

“You know you can’t be here! What if my parents found out?” he hushed you with a soft smile on his lips, hands on your shoulders.

“They won’t. I promise, alright? I parked the van one block down your neighborhood, they won’t even suspect. Never saw me climb in too, so we’re safe.” you seemed relieved, falling on your bed and him following, sitting on his book and pulling it off under him just to smile and look at you. “You’re reading it!” you looked at him.

“Well yeah, at least I’m trying. Everything is so confusing…” he let out a little chuckle.

“You know that if you need my help you just want to ask me, sweetheart. I can explain to you the lore in less than thirty minutes from all the times that I’ve read the saga.”

You giggled when he bumped the book on your head, making him let out a soft laughter too before he would make you blush —like always— by complimenting just how beautiful you looked that night.

Even though you always feared him getting caught by one of your parents every single time he sneaked in and, getting you grounded, with every new secret visit, that fear slowly disappeared.

Eddie made you feel good, and safe. He always talked to you about his day, giving you as much details as he could just so you could feel how being a Hawkins High student felt like. Of course, he took out Jason’s bullying and how everyone thought of him as a freak in fear you’d end up thinking about him the same way they thought about him, which was stupid, since you adored Eddie.

He was always the sweetest, always taking care of you, making sure you were warm every night after church, comfortable on his van’s seat… Making sure you had something to eat, trying his best to make you feel like the most important thing in the whole world… It made your heart beat pretty quickly when he would take your hand when you walked down the streets, making you go on the inside part and telling you to be careful with the rain poodles in case you’d go and slip.

He always let you hide on his chest when you watched scary movies with him on his trailer, and gave you his shirt and sweats —which were too big for you— to sleep if you ever decided to spend the night. He even lent you his bed and slept on the couch. He was a gentleman.

Or that’s what he wanted you to think. ‘Cause he really was no saint. He had to fought a boner every time you’d sleep over, or fall asleep on his chest after a long movie night, or ignore the way your tongue swirled around an ice cream, or how your tits bounced while running for him and pressed against his chest, or fight the urge to touch when while reading your little cotton panties would show under your night gown, or when your skirt would rile up a little bit too much exposing your perfect thighs… Fuck. He had had to go to the bathroom multiple times to masturbate and get it over with or else he would feel like going crazy.

He wanted you, really wanted you. Wanted to make you choke on his dick, to touch you over your panties in the last church’s bench while the mass went on, make you grind on him in the confessional, he wanted to hear you moan in his ear as he pounded in you in Steve’s bathroom while the others watched a movie downstairs, he wanted to mark your neck just so you would struggle to hide them from your catholic little teacher and friends. God, he was the devil, and you were that pretty little angel that he so wanted to corrupt all for himself.

He had dreamed about you, crying while being too cock drunk, begging for him to fuck you harder. He would wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air and with cum in his underwear when he once dreamed about you calling him your god.

He felt sick. He was sick. Sick for wanting to hurt you, to cuff you to his bed as he ate you out over and over again ‘till you couldn’t cum anymore, for taking a knife and cutting his initials on your flesh only to lick clean the wound and then let you taste it on his lips, he wanted to fill you up with his cum and watch it drip out of your tight little cunt just to get hard again and fuck you one more time. He wanted to spank you so you wouldn’t be able to sit on your chair next morning, he wanted to choke you and hear your whimpers as he fucked you stupid.

He had even stolen your used panties from the dirty laundry once that he had sneaked on your bathroom under the excuse to pee, just to fuck his fist —once he was back in his trailer— with them and lick the crotch as he pleasured himself while fantasizing about it being your pussy instead. He had even risked waking you up while masturbating next to you in your slumber, for fucks sakes!

He wanted to hear you scream his name so bad… Hear you beg for him to do anything he wanted to you, to fill you up, to break you, to…

“Eddie?” you sweet voice filled his ears, pulling him away from his train of thought. You two were alone for the night in your house, your parents having gone away on a trip due to work and leaving you all alone, to what you’ve asked Eddie if he could stay with you since you were scared. After a couple of minutes, he was knocking on your door with all types of movies and snacks. And there you were, in your room, under the dim light of your lamp and the television, which played ‘The Exorcist’.

It was not the first night the two of you had spent alone in your room, he had slept over each time your parents were away just to keep you company and hugged you ‘till you had fallen asleep. But something was wrong that night. Well, you had been feeling kind of strange for a while now.

It all started a couple of weeks ago where one of your friends had come to school with flushed cheeks and a scarf around her neck, which was strange since it was not that cold yet. It was not ‘till recess when she had told you all about it and taken of her scarf to show her little secret. She was full of hickeys, something you’ve learned not too long ago. You didn’t understand what had happened ‘till she whispered about the weekend he had spend with his boyfriend on her house, while his parents were away for vacation. She had given all of you clear details about how she had gotten those and how his boyfriend had —and you quoted— wrecked the shit out of her. Even though you were quite lost, you knew that whatever she had done was a sin, since they were out of marriage. But when you told her so she just went and told you ‘As if you didn’t have a boy that you’d like to fuck too.’ Your eyes had widened at her words, cheeks flushing and confusion settling on your head when suddenly Eddie’s face came to your mind.

That day, you spent the whole school time thinking about it, fire on your stomach when suddenly you’d imagined yourself with your neck full of bruises just like your friends but this time being Eddie the one that had sucked them on you. Was then when you started feeling strange, your whole body flushing and a really uncomfortable tingle in your lower parts that had you awkwardly brushing against your chair from time to time, what only made it worse.

You thought it had gone away, but then you had met Eddie the next day in church and that feeling had come back to haunt you, worsening with the little strokes that his fingertips gave to the thigh where his hand rested. You had tried and praying it away, too embarrassed to even think about what that exactly meant and trying to erase your friend’s words out of your head.

Although everything went down hill when you woke up one night startled and with slick in your panties due to a very indecent dream you had had. You didn’t understood why, but you had taken the teddy bear that Eddie was always messing with and pushed it in between your thighs in hopes that it would stop that tingly feeling that so crazy was driving you, only to find yourself pushing against it when you felt good… Really good even. Even more when you went ahead and went though your dream one more time. It was Eddie, slowly kissing your neck, skin glistening due to his tongue and little open mouthed kissed and bites that he had given you, and not really knowing how, that same mouth had ended up finding its way in between your thighs and buried himself there. But you got scared as your stomach tightened and pushed it away, gasping for air with tears in your eyes as you grasped tightly your rosary in between your fingers and prayed and prayed over and over again. Although the pain never left.

You couldn’t even look at Eddie’s face due to the embarrassment that night after church, and prayed the whole day after that, scared that some demon had come to hurt you on your sleep.

What would Eddie think of you? What would God think about you?

You had tried everything. Everything to push it away, to forget about it.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he was drawing little circles on your bare thighs, your head against his shoulder and chest, your arms around his waist.

Yet there was it, that stupid feeling once again, making you all flushed and wet down there due to just a pair of simple touches from your best friend.

“Can you… Can you please stop touching me?” you inquired him with a soft and hurt voice, trying really hard not to brush yourself against your bed sheets for that relief you had felt once with your plush. No. It’s wrong. It’s wrong…

He seemed surprised at first at your words, but quickly pulled his hand away from your skin, worry on his voice. “I’m sorry, gorgeous, was I making you feel uncomfortable?”

Surprisingly enough, you whined when you felt the urge to ask him to touch you again, feeling so overwhelmed and frustrated and scared that tears started to form on your eyes. Eddie’s widened when he heard your little gasps and hiccups, being quick to stop the movie and turn to you, his eyes finding your teary ones.

“Hey…” his voice was filled with sadness as his hands cupped your rosy cheeks, his eyebrows turned and face worried. “What’s wrong, gorgeous?” his thumbs swayed the tears away as you cried, shattering his heart.

“I— I don’t feel good.” you muttered, making him worry even more.

“Why? Are you feeling sick? Does it hurt somewhere?” you nodded, crying even harder, your hands fisting his shirt. “Where? Where does it hurt?” he inquired you but you simply shook your head.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you.” and you truly couldn’t, what would Eddie think of you? He would hate you! He would leave you alone and then you two wouldn’t be friends anymore.

He looked so concerned he seemed pale. “Tell me where it hurts, baby, please?” he inquired and you only buried your face on his neck. “Please baby, please?”

You hid even more before you could mumble something his ears didn’t catch, your breath on his skin making him slightly shiver.

New tears damped his tee as you cried on his neck, him not truly understanding, taking your face in between his hands once more and away from his neck to try and understand as he tried to push away that lingering pleasure of seeing your tears.

“I don’t understand, sweetheart. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just… I just can’t make it stop!” you frustratedly whimpered, your thighs pushing together.

“What is it, gorgeous? You know you can always tell me anything, I’m here for you, okay? I’m here for you.” he promised, giving you a slight kiss on your forehead.

“It hurts very bad, Eddie.” and when he softly asked you again where you muttered a “Down… Down there.” your pretty voice came out as a whisper, but he was still able to hear it, his eyes drifting to your legs, which pressed tightly against the other.

“Down there, baby?” you nodded.

“It feels hot and hurts when you touch me and I can’t make it stop. I’m sorry, I’m veryveryvery sorry Eddie, please don’t be mad, please?” you begged him, his heart skipping a beat when you confirmed his guessing.

You were… You were, fuck.

“I’m not mad, doll.” he gave you a sweet smile as he pushed the last few tears away from your cheeks.

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” he nodded, gulping hard when you squirmed under his touch once one of his hands had found his way to your thighs. “But I need to you show me where it hurts, okay sweetheart? I don’t really know what you mean.” he said, rubbing circles on your warm skin.

Oh, he knew what you meant. He perfectly knew. But it was too good to be true. You? Hot and bothered because of him? God was really playing with him right now, right? This couldn’t be…

“Can you do that for me, hm?” you nodded when his soft voice reached you, your own shaky little hand taking his just to push your thighs apart and slowly start to drag it inwards, a sigh scaping your lips.

This was one of those goddamn dreams, it had to be. It had to… Jesus H Crisht.

“There.” you stuttered when his palm was fully cupping your clothed cunt, the warmth and wetness in your panties making him moan.

“Is there where it hurts, baby?” you nodded, your eyes closing as your teeth captured your bottom lip. “Since when does it hurt, hm?” he inquired, trying really hard to stay still and not push those goddamn beautiful panties away to push his fingers roughly inside you and make you scream.

“Since a couple of days.” ‘Since the dream’. You wanted to add.

“My poor baby, all frustrated and bothered. You must have really had a bad time…” you nodded, almost crying once again, when his other hand cupped your wet and warm cheek, his lips on your ear as he whispered. “I know what’s wrong with you.”

“You know?” you inquired, your voice holding a little bit of hope in all that list that you really couldn’t understand.

“Mmh, mmh.” he muttered, thumb pressing against your bottom lip, eyes on it as his tongue dampened his own. “It happens to me too… All the time. But only when I’m with you.” you gasped at his words, quivering when his minty breath hit your face. “I know how to make it feel better. Do you want me to make it feel better, gorgeous?” you quickly nodded, your hips bucking towards his hand when his fingertips slowly and softly made its way down your slit, still not pressing into your wet folds.

“Yes please, Eddie. Please.” you begged, making him grin at your broken pleads, even more when your head fell backwards and you moaned when his touch became rougher, his body moving ‘till he now rested behind you, your back against his chest.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked, his fingers touching your clit over your pink panties. You nodded. “Words, gorgeous. Use your words.” his index pressed harder and you whined, your fingers fisting the floral sheets under you.

“Yes. Yes. Feels… Feels good, Eddie.” you found a way to babble out, too out of it.

“Look at you, I’m only touching you over your panties and you are already like this.” he chuckled. “Such a good dirty girl.” you whimpered at his words, hips pushing against his touch, shaking when his lips found your neck. “Why don’t you be good for me and get rid of your panties, mh?”

You were quick to push them down your thighs, your slick forming a thick string in between the cotton and your cunt that made Eddie groan, dick fully hard underneath his jeans.

“Good girl.” he praised you, his hand going back in between your thighs, taking your breath away. “Does that feel better now?” you nodded, incredibly overwhelmed by the difference that it was having him touching you under you clothes then above. Hell, if you had been close to cumming with just your teddy bear, you were now seconds away from bursting. “I bet it does. So pretty.” his middle finger pressed against your entrance, circling it and making you moan his name.

“Eddie.” he groaned when it fell from your lips, your nails digging on his thighs as you pulsed against his fingertips. “More.” you didn’t truly know what you were asking for, but the words came on it’s own as you whimpered, pushing against his finger.

“Does my pretty girl want more?” you answered with a plead ‘yes, please’. “Then open up for me a little bit more, baby.” he said against your neck, sucking slightly on your skin and making you moan as your thighs parted to their limits. “That’s it.” you cried out when his finger slowly pushed against the ring of muscles, sinking in when it gave out.

“Eddie…” you whimpered, the strange feeling of his finger inside of, you slowly pulling backwards just to push back in once again, making your head spin, the wet sounds of your pussy receiving his digits making him lose his mind.

“Fuck.” he groaned, his hard dick pushing against your lower back. He was so hard he swore he could cum just with your whimpers and moans. “That’s it baby, you’re being so good…” your nails dug harder on his thighs when he tried his luck by pushing another finger in, this one stinging but not for long since his thumb pressed against your clit and his two fingers curved to hit your g spot.

You then became a mumbling mess, begging for that feeling again, for more from him and crying and moaning his name over and over again.

You were feeling once again that strange and overwhelming pressure in your lower stomach. And he knew, since your walls were tightening around his fingers, that you were close. Close to the best feeling that you had yet to know.

“Eddie, I…”

“You close, gorgeous? Gonna cum all over my fingers?” he muttered against the skin of your neck. “Gonna scream my name as you cum, hm?”

You didn’t know what it was, but you were so close, so close.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Let me have it.” and with a last breath you broke down in cries and high pitched moans, his name falling off your lips as the best thing you had ever experienced hit you. It was warm, and so intense that it made you lose focus of your surroundings, making you go blind as Eddie groaned in your neck, biting down on your soft skin. “Atta girl.” you whimpered as his fingers helped you ride out your orgasm, your thighs twitching and tears in your eyes as your walls fluttered around his rough and thick fingers. “Fuck baby, that was so hot.”

You gasped for air as you came down, your head against his shoulder and entrance twitching when his cum covered fingers left you and found its way to his mouth, licking them clean and tasting you with a hum.

You whined at the sight, making him smirk. “What is it, want a taste sweetheart?” you nodded, half-lided eyes shining with pleasure. “Then open your mouth for me.” you did so as he turned your face with one of his hands just to lean on you, his tongue sloppy but hungry in your mouth and his free hand groped one of your breasts, making you moan.

It was your first kiss, and even if you had imagined it a thousand times how it would be before, it was definitely not like that. It was messy, and hot, and really difficult to follow. That’s why you found yourself pulling him back in from his neck, wanting more of his lips on yours and your taste in his mouth. But he just wouldn’t give it to you, chuckling mere inches from your face making you whine.

“Nuh-uh, that’s not how we ask for things, beautiful.”

“Please, Eddie…” you whispered against his lips, his thumb pulling on your bottom lip ‘till your mouth was open for him once again.

“Stick your tongue out.” he ordered, and you followed, moaning when he leaned in once again, his tongue bruising your own and making your eyes roll when his free hand snuck back to your thighs, this time ascending to your tummy, all the way up ‘till his fingertips bumped against your under boobs. “Fuck, you are not wearing a bra, baby?” you shook your head, his dick twitching against your back, but later against your thighs once he had pushed you on your back and quickly topped you. “Such a tease…” he mumbled against the skin on your neck, giving you a harsh bite that made you cry and pushed him flush against you, his hands taking a hold on your pretty tits under your shirt, your nipples hard and begging to be touched.

“Eddie, please… Kiss me, please.” you pleaded for him to go back to your lips, to your tongue, intoxicated by his touch, his words and his hard dick pressing against your skin. You so wanted to be touched again, to be relieved from that pain that once again grew in between your thighs.

“So pretty begging for me, do you want it that bad?” you nodded, squirming under his touch and letting out a hurt whimper when he pinched and pulled your nipples, leaving that tingle and warmth spread on your skin. “Cant hear you baby.”

“I want it, please, please, please…” your hips pushed against his when he found his way in between your legs, wet pussy against the rough denim of his crotch. “Please, Eddie, it hurts.” new tears came to your eyes, moaning over and over again when he started to dry hump against you, rubbing your sensitive clit and making you see stars.

“Such a greedy little bitch.” you cried out at his words, all that sweet talk leaving him when his palm hardly fell on the flesh of your thigh, making your body jolt. “Gave you my fingers and yet you don’t find it enough?” the next slap made you push harder against his cock, making him groan in your chest as he snapped the buttons of your shirt just to let his tongue freely lap at your tits, biting and sucking hardly on your skin, leaving beautiful marks behind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you cried, one of your hands instantly going to take a hold on the little cross that dangled from your neck, something you did as you prayed and in times where you felt like giving into sin.

“You gonna pray, whore? Gonna pray to god while I fuck you?” he inquired, his grip on your wrists as he pushed your hands away from your necklace and over your head. You moaned when the denim brushed over your cunt once again, it dampening due to how wet you were. “He’s not the one making you feel better, sweetheart. You should be praying to me. It’s me who you should be begging and for which you’d go down on your knees, don’t you think, hm?” you nodded even though the grip on your wrists pained you and his teeth harshly dug on the skin of your neck, ‘cause it felt so good, better than anything you’ve experienced before. “What a dirty slut, giving in to me just so I make you cum, isn’t that right? Say it. Say you want me to make you cum all over my cock.” your body grew on goosebumps to his orders, you babbling and trying to make sense of the words who left your lips, receiving a harsh slap when you could find a way to pull them in order. “Come on, sweetheart, I know you want it. You want me to make you feel good again, right? You want to make me feel good?” you quickly nodded, eyes closed as he dry humped against your aching cunt. You no longer wanted his fingers, you were in need of something bigger, something that would fill you up to the brim and make you choke out on it. “Then say it, baby. I know you can.”

Your lips parted in a cry when one of his hands left your wrists just to find its way to your clit, thighs shaking as you felt the pressure start to build again in your stomach, lifting you higher and higher.

“Please, Eddie. Make me…” you whimpered when his circling didn’t stop. “I want to cum on your cock.” you managed to say, not really caring anymore about the eyes that watched you up from the sky. If God loved you…, then why would he make this a sin? Why could something that felt so good be bad? Maybe Eddie was right, maybe it was him your truly God.

You found yourself tugging against his hand and trying to push him back to your core when he pulled away, leaving you with an orgasm that never came and shaking on your place, begging in between little whispers and mutters.

“Fuck. Look at you. All messed up and I haven’t even begun to fuck you. You are gonna do good for me, isn’t that right baby? You are gonna take it, gonna take my cock and cum on it over and over again, and fucking take it.” when he finally freed your wrists, your hands quickly searched up for him, his own unbuckling his belt as you nodded, pushing his jeans and boxers —wet with precum — down his thighs, freeing his aching and swollen dick, which bumped against his happy trail. You eyes widened at the sight. So that was what had been poking you that whole time. It was strangely beautiful. Mushroom tip wet and red, great length and girth with a couple of veins on its side… It had a little curve too. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me, gorgeous?” you nodded, eyes never leaving his cock when his hand gripped and started moving around it, soft groans that made your pussy clench leaving his lips. “Then why don’t you open up yourself for me, hm? Let me see that pretty pussy of yours.” you moaned at his hungry gaze, tongue sliding through his bottom lip as your hands snaked down your chest and stomach to your thighs and later on, your folds, your fingers digging on your wetness just to open them up, giving him a full view of your twitching hole and clit. “Fuck. Atta girl. You’re so good baby, so good for me.” you whimpered, hips pushing against his own when he was once again in between your thighs, tip sliding though your folds and bumping your clit, making you moan and your head fall back.

Your hands quickly found the bottom of his shirt, and later, his bare back, your eyes wandering on the ink that decorated his skin. You’d seen it before, of course, since he mostly wandered around shirtless in his van, but it never failed to amaze you. It was just so beautiful… He moaned when your nails dig on his shoulder blades, his dick twitching against your entrance and slightly pushing against it and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Eddie, I need you, please God, I need you…” you babbled out, pushing against him and pulling him closer, the grip on your hip tightened as he smirked.

“Who are you begging to baby? Me or God?” his mouth hovered over your neck, his tongue flattening in a long wet strip from your collarbones to your ear, whispering there and making your skin prickle. “Or maybe I’m both?” you moaned and he just smiled wider. “Yeah?” his eyebrows rose as you nodded, bottom lip in between your teeth and breath hitching when his tip pushed inwards once again, teasing you. “Am I your God, sweetheart?” you nodded again, moaning when he softly bit your jaw. “Then pray to me.” he mumbled, his tip finally pushing and gaining a lustful and painful whine from your lips. “Worship me.” he groaned as he slowly thrusted in your wetness, cursing under his breath since you were so tight he felt like exploding.

Sure, it hurt. It was your first time. You hadn’t even ever touched yourself before that night, Eddie’s fingers doing the honors to let you know that that kind of pleasure was possible in a human being. And that it was okay. Your bedroom floor hadn’t cracked open to let you fall to Hell, like you’d feared, instead, rising you to Heaven, higher and higher above the clouds and nearer the sun.

He was so big that you felt like dying, so heavy and warm inside you that had you all messed up and crying under him due to the desire and pleasure that surrendered you to his touch. Your tears bringing him to groan as he bottomed out, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t yet believe that he was inside you, fucking you, making you cry and beg for him. “Fuck.” he cursed, trying to focus on not cumming on the spot, trying to ignore the way your walls surrounded him and your body twitched, nails digging in his back as you rocked against him. “So good, baby. You’re such a good girl.” you whimpered, his hands wondering around your body and giving you soft squeezes as encouragement. He was waiting for you, waiting for the pain to dissipate and you to get used to him being deep inside you. When your rocking became more noticeable, he smiled at your pretty moans.

“Eddie…” you called out for him, gasping for air when he pulled out ‘till only the tip remained inside and thrusted back in, hitting something inside you that made you see stars and cry out.

“That’s it.” he cooed, pounding on you once again, hair caressing your chest and his lips brushing against yours. “Such a pretty girl taking my cock.” you whimpered, his tongue pushing inside your mouth and kissing you dirtily as his groans made you gasp. It was too much. Too much. “Take it, doll. Take my cock. Just like that, fuck. Good girl.” you moaned his name as his hips started to take up on speed. “You like that? Like my cock? This sweet pussy of yours seems to love it.” he smirked as a new thrust let you hear the dirt sounds of your juices against his dick. “So greedy, sucking me in so good. Such a slut.” you screamed when his hand fell harshly against the side of your thigh.

The only thing you could do was moan his name over and over again, the constant hitting to that sweet spot inside you driving you crazy and nearing you to that now known feeling of relief.

“Look at you, so cock drunk you can’t even talk.” he laughed, thrusting harder, deeper, faster… “You’re drooling all over yourself, baby.” you gagged when two of his fingers went into your mouth, drool dampening them and spilling over your chin. “What a pretty girl. So pretty letting me fuck her just how I want.” he moaned when your walls tightened around him. “Taking me so good. Such a good little toy.” you cried, his fingers making your pleading all muffled and broken. “You liked that, baby? Like me to treat you badly?” another slap on your thigh had you nodding like crazy, his name falling off of tour lips when his fingers left your mouth only to wrap around your throat, making the oxygen hardly full your lungs and blood flow to your brain.“I’m sure you’d let me cum in you, isn’t that right. I can bet you even want it. Want my cum filling you up so good you’d beg me for it every goddamn day, isn’t that right, gorgeous?” you nodded, begging for it and making him grunt on your mouth, his tongue pushing against your lips. You choked at the feeling of his fingers digging on your neck, his name falling off your lips like a church song.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…” new tears streamed down your face when his fingers found your clit. And by the way you were tightening around him he new you were close.

“Gonna cum baby? Gonna cum on my cock?” you nodded, moans closer to each other. “What a good girl. Cum for me baby, let me hear you.” you didn’t even wait to do so, cumming so hard you swore the world was falling to pieces around you, your sweet choked out whimpers making him lose control, fucking you harshly and mercilessly, your hands leaving his shoulders to press against his stomach, scratching him when he wouldn’t even let you rest from your high, which never seemed to finish.

“Too much, it’s… It’s too much, Eddie, please…” you begged, choked by his hand, feeling the constant pounding build something different inside you. “Stop! Stop… Something’s… Something’s gonna come out!” you begged, but he didn’t seemed to listen, too out of it due to just how pretty you looked crying and getting the shit fucked out of you by his cock.

He moaned at your arching back and high pitched scream, juices gushing out of your pussy and dampening his cock, thighs and your sheets. His eyes widened when he seemed to understand what had just happened.

“Did you just… Fuck baby. Did you just squirted?” you were a crying mess under him, too overwhelmed to even answer or really understand what had just happened. “Fuck, that was so hot. I’m gonna fucking cum.” he moaned as his thrusts became sloppier and his groans louder, fucking you faster but not as deep as he sought his own release while his name fell off your lips over and over again. “y/n, ah fuck, so good, I’m gonna cum so hard… Gonna fill you up so good, so full…” he moaned when after one, two, three more deep thrusts he spilled in you, painting your walls in white and making you moan at the feeling, your name falling off his lips on whimpers when his arms gave out and fell on top of you.

The two were a goddamn mess, all sticky and sweaty, you whimpered when he kissed you once again, this kiss being sloppier and more lazy, sweet. A little gasp left your lips when his fingers tightened around your necklace and pulled, stealing it from your neck. “You won’t be needing this anymore.” he smirked, instead taking his own off his neck, the one with his red pick dangling, and pulling it over your head. “Since from now on you’d be on your knees for me, hm?” you nodded, sighing when his lips where back to yours, hissing a little bit when he pulled out of you, cum dripping down your thighs onto the wet sheets as he put on your own necklace, the cross shining under your lamp’s light. “You’re mine now, sweetheart.”

thanks to everyone who comments, likes and reblogs, it really helps this blog to reach more and more people!!! hope y’all liked this post! <3

also, thanks for the 400 followers! y’all are the best!!!!

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things season 4 #st4 #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader

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spooky-bunnys · 10 months

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Hear me out peh yah meets gothic reader and at first peh assumes that the reader is a vampire and peh just does everything in his way to protect his “vampire” crush. I mean him always holding an umbrella for the reader, make sure there is no garlic near him (can just imagine pah offering the reader garlic bread only for peh to slap it out of pah hand), crosses and stakes are thrown far away from the reader and whenever the reader says “I’m kinda hungry” peh immediately shows his neck and replies with “make it quick”

If that’s alright with you

So sorry for the late reply. A lots been going on and as excited as I was to write this I had no idea how to go by it to be honest. But here you go! Also I hope you guys like my new theme!

When Peh-yan met (Name) he was surprised. Very surprised. He had never seen anyone like him. He looked....different.

He had extremely pale skin. He had a pitch black parasol covering him from the sun. Clothes as dark as his umbrella. But it was the Rosari stood out the most.

So he immediately knew this guy was a Vampire. Cause what human would be like that?! (Literally me if I could man) But he was confused on why he was so nice to him.

Vampires in books and Manga were said to be beauitful but rude and uncaring. (Name) was different though, while yes he was beautiful. He was kind and caring.

Peh-yan watched carefully from behind the corner, as (Name) was playing with a small black cat. The soft smile on the male's face made Peh-yan's heart skip a beat.

He looked so sweet and gentle. Peh-yan had leaned a bit too far and fell. Startling not only the cat but the "undead" male.

(Name) looked at the fallen male then turned to where the cat was. He was a bit sad he couldn't play with the animal for longer but he needed to get home anyways. He turned and slowly made his way home. Completely forgetting about the fallen male he left behind.

Peh-yan looked around noticing the dark male disappeared. So it was true! He even had the speed of a Vampire! (No hun you were just stuck in a gay day dream) No matter though he will keep the male's real identity a secret! He will protect (Name) with his life!

It's been about a month since (Name) met Peh. The taller male had been acting extremely weird in his opinion. Like how on their walk home Peh steered him away from the church. While also scared away the kids that were playing outside of it. Yelling about keep him safe from being hurt.

(Name) didn't know how a church or a group of kids with sticks can hurt him. He sighed petting another cat as the tall male held his parasol. Keeping him protected from the sun.

That was another thing. Whenever they see each other, Peh immediately takes his parasol away and always covers him. While (Name) found this sweet, he just didn't know why the male was so keen on keeping him "safe". He knows Peh doesn't mean any harm its just.....he's acting weird wen "protecting" him.

Like how at school earlier, Peh literally slapped a piece of garlic bread out of his best friends hand! Going on and on about how garlic can harm him. (Name) had tried explaining to Peh that while he didn't like garlic, it doesn't harm him. But he wasn't able to since he had scared off a few girls. Who had been praying for their food.

(Name) picked up the cat. Smiling softly. He loved animals. Cat were his biggest weakness. After giving the cat some more scratches, (Name) let the cat go before looking over at his "protector". "Hey Peh I'm getting kind of hungry."

Now what (Name) expected was for the male to led them to a restaurant. Not for him to pull (Name) into an alley and tell (Name) to be quick.

"Huh?"

(Name) was stooped. Peh leaned close and showed his neck. His face serious and ears red. (Name) had never been so confused in his whole life. What was he doing?

"Peh?"

"Go ahead (Name). Just please be gentle. This is my first time."

Okay what the hell is going on?

"First time for what?!"

Peh stuck his neck out more, pulling his shirt slightly down. "Go ahead. I made sure to wash my neck in case this happens."

"Peh why would you need to wash your neck?" (Name) tilted his head confused. He didn't understand what was going on here anymore.

Peh pulled away and shyly looked to the side. "S-So if you needed blood I could give you some of mine." (Name) choked on air. Even more confused. What is going on?

"Why would I need blood?" Peh looked confused. "Do you not need blood to live?" "Doesn't everyone?" "Well not everyone is a Vampire though!"

Vampire? Who the hell was a vampire?Vampire?! "I'm not a Vampire though." Peh stared at him. "You're not?" (Name) shook his head. Quietly laughing. "No Peh. Is that what this has been about?"

The taller male wouldn't meet his eyes. (Name) gave a soft laugh. Peh looked confused at the (hair color) male's reaction. (Name) smiled brightly and wiped away the tears that had came to his eyes.

"Peh, I'm not a vampire. What made you think that?" The taller male the began explaining how (Name) acted like a vampire. Which (Name) expained how he wasn't one.

"You always use an umbrella to stay out of the sun!" -Peh

"I get sunburned easil." -(Name)

"Your extremely pale!" -Peh

"I got my pale skin color from my grandmother." -(Name)

"You're always wearing dark clothes!" -Peh

"The color black is my happy color. I'm also goth Peh." -(Name)

"Then what about that cross thing you're always wearing?!" -Peh

"It's a family heirloom. Its also a Rosari." -(Name)

Peh looked stooped. He had to admit. Those were good reasons...or maybe (Name) really WAS a vampire but he had to keep it a secret. But he wouldn't take his blood though....maybe he didn't like people blood?

Peh nodded looking determined. "Don't worry (Name)! Your secret is safe with me!"

(Name) groaned and face-palmed.

#male reader #x male reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x male reader #peh yan x male reader #peh yan #toman #tokyo manji gang

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catholic-character-tournament · 1 year

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Round 1 - Side A

Propaganda below ⬇️

Claude Frollo Propaganda:

This man got horny and his response was “that woman must burn”

I love him so much. More seriously Book Frollo is much more ambivalent than Disney Movie Frollo which makes sense because we're talking about Victor Hugo VS a children's movie. He didn't kill Quasimodo's mom, he took him in (when himself was only nineteen and already in charge of his own baby brother since their parents had died not long before) when he was left on the church's doorstep. I mean, he does quite a few reprehensible and slightly evil stuff afterwards but he had a good start, you know ? He taught Quasi to communicate by signs when he became deaf because of the bells. He was also very much into alchemy which was pretty cool. His behavior towards Esmeralda was still very much not okay but I'd like to point out that Phoebus is also a jerk in this one. And Quasi's quite a bit amoral because no intelligent enough to understand some stuff

I actually haven't gotten very far through the book yet but from the musical (not the disney one the other one it's SO GOOD) I can confirm he sucks at being catholic. literally tells a child over and over that he's ugly and unlovable until he fully believes it and won't let the kid go outside. https://genius.com/Alan-menken-out-there-lyrics (lyrics to the song in which frollo convinces quasimodo he's unlovable. ableist as hell and shitty in every way you can possibly imagine and it breaks my heart every time. feel free to listen to the actual track but it doesn’t get good until about 40 seconds in) frollo keeps saying it's good and right to punish sinners himself, and it's not right that the wicked go unpunished. there's a really satisfying moment in the musical where quasimodo sees him for what he is and repeats his words back to him (7:45 - 8:54, frollo is the one with the insanely deep voice) and it gives me goosebumps every time to hear that "yes you do" link to that video: https://youtu.be/HL7WZcTIgus

I honestly wrote this submission because I suffered from severe insomnia for being reminded that I might have poor taste when it comes to enjoying media since I enjoy Disney version of Frollo even after I watched other versions of this character. (I am so sorry the host yes I am that annoying anon lying in the dark little corner of your ask box. I have no other thing to do in my life so hello again) His character is different from the original novel version, and to be honest as an adoption, that is NOT necessarily WRONG. He had more struggles with his pride and his self-imagine in the Catholic framework. "Beata Maria, you know I am a righteous man, of my virtue I am justly proud" as the opening line of his villain song, clearly states his main struggle throughout the movie--pride and self-imagine (super-ego) vs lust and instinct (id). Once his self-imagine in the Catholic framework was on shaking ground, he bent his twisted sense of "righteous" to make him less painful. Tbh, the novel version used the example of Bruno d’Ast to justify his hornyness, so it's just classical Frollo behaviour no matter which version it is. (SMASH THE TABLE) HAVE YOU READ~~THE NOVEL~~ I REPEAT: HIS CHARACTER IS NOT JUST "I HATE WITCHCRAFT AND I AM HORNY AND RACIST". I REPEAT: HIS CHARACTER IS NOT JUST "I HATE WITCHCRAFT AND I AM HORNY AND RACIST". I REPEAT: HIS CHARACTER IS NOT JUST "I HATE WITCHCRAFT AND I AM HORNY AND RACIST". I am sorry for the noise pollution in your submission Google form. I should have taken my sedatives regularly. I am truly sorry. Also please don't bully me in the debate, novel/musical enjoyers. LOOK, I AIN'T YOUR ENEMY. I LOVE NOVEL/MUSICAL FROLLO, I JUST LOVE DISNEY VERSION AS WELL, I AM AS TORMENTED AS YOUR FAVORITE CATHOLIC PRIEST. I am not a native tongue, so I tried my best to express my thoughts/feelings/justification why Disney version should be a qualified candidate as well. If you tried to debate with me, I would be drowned in my poor English. Sorry again.

Javert Propaganda:

His whole deal is like, “can someone still be good even if they’ve broken the law? Can you still be godly if you’re a felon” He really believes that by upholding the law, he is absolutely in the moral right all the time. And when he realizes that’s not true, it absolutely destroys him

he is the law and the law is not mocked <3 he is also. so gay. i'm sorry i refuse to believe you're even a little heterosexual if you chase jean valjean for like over 20 years for breaking parole and/or bread theft and recognise him by his muscles and have a major moral crisis as soon as he's nice to you one (1) time also he gets called out by a child that one time?? that was fun ALSO HE UHH???? THINKS HE SCREWED UP ONE TIME AND LIKE. ASKS HIS BOSS TO FIRE HIM???? (the boss is valjean he doesn't know that yet dw abt it) also uh uhm. he jumps into a river,,,, but before he does that he feels the need to put his hat on the fence nearby so it doesn't get wet lmao he's so silly goofy <3333

#les miserables #cct polls #the hunchback of notre dame #hunchback musical #claude frollo #judge claude frollo #inspector javert #victor hugo #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #tumblr tournament

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controversial-blorbo-bracket · 8 months

Text

Controversial Character Tournament Round 2: Light Yagami from Death Note vs Edelgard von Hresvelg from Fire Emblem: Three Houses

(remember that these characters are fictional and your fellow tumblr users are real. please be normal in the notes, i will not hesitate to block if you harass people)

Propaganda under the cut, may contain spoilers:

Light Yagami:

LOVE: - "He does some messed up things but have you considered: fucked up protagonists rock :)" HATE: - "this man makes me sick. ive genuinely had manic episodes over hating him. i have trauma from his existence in general. not even because of the murder. because hes a sexist cheater :(" - "My cousin and I frequently debate this. I think despite his 'intentions' he's ultimately a despicable character who cares for nobody but himself. She disagrees and says that he is just trying to do the right thing and making a difference in the world (she still thinks his actions are wrong, but she doesn't think he himself is despicable)" BOTH: - "I mean cmon man"

Edelgard Von Hresvelg:

LOVE: "People either claim she's the hero or the irredeemable villain with no in between. She's also my lovely wife who has never done anything wrong in her life." "I never even finished her route and remember nothing of what happens in that game but I DO remember the absolute warzone the fandom turned into because of her. She staged a coup and overthrew the head of the government/church and I think that's pretty cool of her. "But she committed war crimes!" God forbid women do anything." "I lied in the previous question. I don't hate her or love her in fact I have never even played this game. But I keep finding people making up Discourse™ featuring wild accusations of bigotry towards both Edelgard fans and Edelgard haters so I feel that she belongs here. (Also my friend hates her. but HER friend loves Edelgard. So even in my small social circle there is a clear polarization.)" "ok I don't have any solid propaganda because my opinion of her is more positive-neutral, but. she fits the spirit of this poll. trust me." "[three houses spoilers] Yes she started a war but it was the only apparent way to break the chokehold the church had over everyone in Fodlan. Also she’s the only lord you can gay marry so I’m hopelessly biased" "every time i go into the tag its either "edelgard is perfect no notes!!" or "edelgard is literally a fascist!!!". ive never seen someone with a neutral opinion of her. i yearn for battle." "I know very little about her to be quite honest! But good god. As a fire emblem fan for the GBA and engage. I have NEVER seen such a decisive character like Edelgard. Jesus Christ. I still find stuff in those tags. What the hell!!!" "I don’t even go to Fire Emblem but even I know that Edelgard has never done anything wrong, ever, in her entire life, and that if she did any war crimes they were a SUPER effective use of girl power. source: I am a lesbian. (realtalk I genuinely love a noble-minded extremist revolutionary and think Edelgard is a great character, so it’s kind of a shame that opinion on her seems to simply split down the line of “whether the person wants to kiss Edelgard or Dimitri more.”)"

HATE: "So on the one hand, she's fully willing to kill and burn and murder her way to a "better future" at the expense of the present, but on the other hand she's pretty cool and #girlboss. She's also a canon gay romance option, but idk if that makes her more or less problematic." "I just. I understand why people like her. I really do. And I don't have anything new to say for why I dislike her. Edelgard fans and stans have heard everything. She has great points and motivation, but her methods are wrong. She hitches her ideals to the first good opportunity and never reconsiders her allegiance when things go off the rails. She hates the church for "lying to people" and proceeds to lie to her own populace herself in her own route. She gives Claude an opportunity to live because she knows he believes in her goals. But Dimitri and his Kingdom are too beholden to the church to ever be offered such mercy. She herself acknowledges that the change she wants to see is more quickly enacted through war than subtle and slow societal change. She recognizes the human toll of her actions, but she justifies it through flowery language and an insistence that the change needs to happen now or it never will. I honestly find her so interesting, and I agree with a lot of her thoughts about the need for societal change in the world of FE:3H. But people latched onto her and propped her up as someone who can do no wrong. And that just never sat right with me. I just think she’s a hypocrite who got put in front of a shiny means to her end and was immediately blind to every other opportunity around her." BOTH: - "I dont even play fire emblem but I cant escape people not shutting up about how much they love or hate her" - "You said there were no hate answers for her...and I don't really hate her so it wouldn't be right but I wanted to balance things out some. She's the perfect storm of a character who sounds right and progressive and has a route all to herself that doesn't contradict that...but once you play other routes, it becomes clear she's kind of. full of misinformation. And attacking people who don't deserve it. Also a LOT of the divisiveness I'm willing to blame on the writers rather than her, for having her both be Evil Tyrant we NEED to take down and Sad Uwu Baby who just wants to eat cake and laze around and loves You the Player SO MUCH."

#poll #4 submissions #12 submissions #round 2 #yagami light #light death note #light yagami #death note #edelgard von hresvelg #fe3h edelgard #edelgard fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem 3 houses

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punkpandapatrixk · 10 months

Text

The Kind of Sad You Can’t Understand

Certain days I feel very deeply that I want to cry but I don’t know why.

For such a long time I lived with this kind of mood without being able to express it anywhere, not to anyone. I was struggling for my sanity; I was constantly thinking of destroying myself; and I was hoping someone would see me, and rush to save me. But nobody ever saw that of me.

I was a badass. I was a cool girl. I seemed to everybody else a smart, talented, expensive girl who's got all her shit together. Even on days she wasn't all that together, she had an enviable life anyway. I appeared on the outside too glamorous for anybody to even imagine that on the inside I was rotting. I was this close to being dead, all the time.

Who in their simple-mindedness would've thought a girl like that could be so macabre all the time? And that’s how I experienced an entire life witnessing people’s lack of empathy. I guess my point of view was fragmented but that was how life was for me anyway. Ironically, some intuitive peeps who were able to see the macabre in me thought I was frightening more than anything HAHAHAH That was all the same in the end. Enough with the gossips. I don’t know what normal people expect from everybody else they meet, to be honest. I don’t know what I’d expected from them either.

I guess it’s because the society I grew up in was like that that I couldn’t bring myself to show anybody my distress. Trauma. Mental illness. Disordered personality. All of that was nothing but insanity. And insane people don’t belong in society.

So simple. Yet so cruel.

Thank you, Jesus. Mother Mary. Catholic Church. Thanks for all the rejection. I’m SO happy now!

That’s fucking twisted.

In a society brimming with nothing but pretenders, we meet and chit and chat and act like all of our troubles are manageable to say the least. ‘Yeah, it’s not that bad, to be honest.' But it was; you've just got to pose real strong otherwise people think you're a loser. 'I guess I’m OK.’ But you weren't; you've just got to really make it sound like you're still keeping it together. 'I'll be just fine.' But you wouldn't know; you didn't even know if you'd still wanna be alive tomorrow.

In the midst of all those meaningless exchanges, I hated quite nothing more than to hear, especially from men, how strong I was as a woman. I hated it like I'd never hated anything in my life.

It was suffocating to be seen as holding it together when you were literally breaking at the seams...

I wanted someone to be able to notice I was screaming on the inside. That I was gasping for air every second I was sitting there listening to their trivial chitter chatter. Who cares about your silly drama? Would you care for mine if you knew my life was on the line? And I hated those expectant eyes. All of them. Were they expecting me to share in their self-made woes and console them in the end? HAH. Go to hell, losers.

I always thought, none of MY problems were created by my own reckless behaviours that would've obviously hurt myself or others. Not in the beginning, at least. Unlike some idiots, I was never into drugs, one night stands, or even smoking; I never caused anybody any trouble. So why did everybody cause me trouble when all I wanted was just a peaceful, normal life? Shit, what even was my IDEA of a normal life? I can't remember now.

Certain days I feel very deeply that I want to cry but I don’t know why. There's always not enough reason to do so now. Haah... If it weren't for my abundance of Aquarius, which makes me incredibly lazy and antisocial, I'd have paraded around town and rallied to become a Neo Hitler and kill everybody in this rotten world. I hated this world so much.

The first ever PAC I put out here was ‘What’s Your Crazy?’ What ever was my reason for writing that? I was crazy and I needed some explanation.

I used to look like the girl in the third pic before I chopped all of my hair off everyone began to suspect I was gay. I wasn’t gay; I was depressed. Those unassuming idiots.

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 months

Text

For ST Rarepair Roulette 💕 @st-rarepair-roulette

Word Count: ~5,000

Ships: Billy Hargrove x Chrissy Cunningham and Heather Holloway x Jason Carver.

Warnings: Implied/referenced child abuse, lots of arguing and misunderstandings, very mild references to sexual content.

~~~~~~

“No. Nope. I don’t believe that for one second.”

Gossip. That’s all it is. Heather and Chrissy laying on the former’s bed, legs up against the wall, long hair dangling over the opposite edge of the bed, exchanging silly gossip.

Never the mean kind, Chrissy won’t allow that, it’s mostly their respective crushes and fascinations from school they talk about.

Or specifically, lately how much Heather doesn’t like Chrissy’s taste in boys. Or anybody, for that matter. In her heart of hearts, she knows Heather is just protective.

Still, Chrissy tosses a little stuffed fuzzball of an animal at her friend for that comment, “Hetty! Rude!”

“Look I’m sorry, I just can’t believe that Hargrove has like, actual feelings. I don’t trust him.” Heather elaborates, through her laughter.

See, she’d say the same every time, they both know that. What matters is whether Chrissy is bold enough to go through with it. She never has been so far. It’s one thing to have a crush, but to have someone openly pining back, that’s something more rare.

An opportunity Chrissy wouldn’t like to lose just to please her best friend.

She’ll try to win her over, “One date won’t be bad.”

But Heather will make excuse after excuse, “Every girl says that before the worst night of her life.”

Chrissy rolls onto her front, sighing so heavily the weight of Heather’s mattress lifts up, like she’s turned to the most stressed little helium balloon and floated away. Maybe she did, off into her imagination, taking her common sense with her.

Maybe she’ll entertain Heather’s concerns, but only if they’re productive, “Well how did you know Jason was being genuine?”

Heather's boyfriend. Track and basketball star, high class social asshole. Chrissys has never been a fan, to be entirely honest. Her earliest memories of Jason Carver were of him shoving over smaller kids in their church group and treating every recess game as pro-level sports. She still doesn’t see what Heather finds so charming about him.

She hopes maybe he’d changed, assumes he’d have had to to win over a critical heart like the one guarded in Heather’s chest.

Oh but Heather gives no such benefit of the doubt to anybody else, “I /don’t/ know it. But /my/ boyfriend doesn’t run over innocent children in his free time.. or whatever the hell it is Billy Hargrove gets up to.”

Chrissy has to laugh at that, it's so absurd, “Oh- He does not! Billy’s /nice./”

“Prove it.” Heather challenges, popping a gum bubble between her teeth to assert her seriousness.

“Hetty.” Chrissy warns, uninterested in playing that game.

Her friend isn’t having it. Heather rolls her brown eyes with so much force she literally rolls over on the bed, sprawling out over top of Chrissy like a beloved golden retriever with no respect for sharing space. It’s always been comfortable with her, coexisting without regard to self consciousness and mothers opinions and Godly image. Probably why she lets Heather get away with being a little catty sometimes.

Like now, as she claims, “Oh come on. Make it a game, have some fun, but show me he’s genuine. Or else I’m kicking his ass.”

“Fine.” Chrissy wants to be stern, but she cracks a little smile, her real, bright one, “If I'm supposed to threaten to kick Jason’s butt, I don’t think I’d be able to.”

Heather hums in thought before presenting a solution, “I’ll do the ‘defending of our honor’ if you help me test Jay back.”

“Pinky promise you’ll be nicer to Billy once we get proof?”

“That’s /if/ we get proof, but you have my word.”

The deal is sealed. They lock pinky fingers, one soft pink nailed and one a flaming red shade. In the ten years they’d been friends since Heather joined their class in 1st grade, not a single pinky promise between them has been broken. It just isn’t done.

Admittedly, that’s a lot of pressure. Talking about cute boys doesn’t feel as fun anymore.

Chrissy’s fluttery feelings start to set in, fidgeting with her hands to hope to drive them off. If she had her bracelets on, she’d shake them and enjoy the way they ring from the hard plastics and metals banging together, but it’s late, she’s in her pjs without jewelry. She picks her nails instead.

Redirecting, Heather hands her a stuffed Winnie the Pooh, and asks a question she knows will catch her off guard, “Soooo. What are you gonna do?”

“Hetty, I haven’t had time to think!” Chrissy complains, squishing poor Pooh between her hands, choosing to abuse the stuffed toy with her anxiety instead of her own skin.

“Oh come on. What do boys care about? Cars, sex, and sports. Pick one and he’ll show his true colors.” Heather says it likes it’s all just so easy, and she already knows it all.

Chrissy isn’t as sure. She considers her options,

“Um, sports sounds the least dangerous.. maybe?”

“Until he tackles your little ass.” Heather points out.

There’s a moment where they both sort of stop moving. They both know what Heather is about to do, but Chrissy's defenses are useless to stop it. She scrunches her body up as tiny as can be, but Heather has pounced, poking her sides gently where she knows her friend is ticklish.

Chrissy used to get all self conscious when Heather would do things like that. Not just touching her skin, so close to where she feels her strongest insecurities, but even jokes, little digs that had nothing to do with Chrissy’s appearance would get her down.

They have Billy to thank for the change. Dating or not, William Hargrove isn’t one to hide his affections. Everyone knows he’s had a thing for Chrissy for a while. It’s deciphering whether he’s chasing tail, or chasing the sweet girl he’d shown enough interest in to replenish her view of herself, hung around and flirted and laughed with so freely it healed a part of her broken heart.

She thinks maybe repaying him a little would increase the chances of getting the ball rolling, and getting Heather’s trust. “What if I cheer special for him during one of his games?”

“Uh, no!” Heather shakes her head, rolled curls bouncing in their pillow curlers back and forth, ”That just makes /you/ public about it. And he can spin that if he’s being an ass for real.”

“But I don’t think-“ Chrissy starts to argue, brow knotted.

Heather holds one of her hands, showing she is doing this because she cares, even if she’s being a little harsh, “Honey, I know I’m a cynical bitch, but I don’t want to see you hurt. Save yourself the embarrassment.”

“I don’t- Heather, it’s not embarrassing to be in love!”

A gasp, slow realization dawning. “You’re right. Oh my god, Chrissy you’re so right!!”

Heather kicks her legs with glee, fuzzy slippers going flying. Right out of a movie, she squeals with delight, infecting Chrissy too with her sudden joy.

Chrissy giggles, going along with it, “I am?”

“Uh, yes! It’s perfect!” Heather scoots closer until they’re shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the ceiling together. She talks with her hands, like she’s painting the picture for her. “Don’t /cheer/ his name. /Wear/ it.”

Only, Chrissy doesn’t think she gets it, “...How?”

“His varsity jacket! If a boy gives you his varsity jacket, it’s serious business. They protect those damn things like a firstborn daughter. If you can get Billy to give you his jacket, you might as well be hitched!” Heather explains, a ball of enthusiasm.

Chrissy knows her longing heart starts racing, probably obvious to Heather too this close together, “You actually think that would work?”

Heather flips up so she’s sitting, burning some of her energy in her dramatic motions, “Duh! You show up to a game repping his varsity, baby, that deal is sealed. I’m talking a proposal at the end-zone. A wedding between quarters. I’m talkin’ baby-making under the bleachers-“

Chrissy, face as hot pink as her pj tank top, interrupts all that, “Okay! Okay. That’s… I get it.”

“Do I make you blush, fair lady?” Heather drawls, in an impression of a boy, eyebrow arched, chest puffed out, lips curled, her voiced dropped ridiculously deep-

Chrissy covers her face, trying desperately not to laugh at the ridiculous attempt, “Heatherrr!!”

Heather clutches her chest like she’s wounded, taking on a sort of accent almost from how badly she’s doing her impression, “Ah! My apologies, maiden. How ungentlemanly of me.”

“Nobody talks like that! /Billy/ doesn’t talk like that!!” Chrissy argues, though she giggles at the unseriousness of it all. So it took a while, but Heather always does know how to make her feel better.

They drop the boy talk for a while, choosing to sneak downstairs and grab some snacks at two in the morning once Heather’s parents were definitely asleep, coming back up with a strange homemade trail mix. Dark chocolate chips, raisins, pretzels, almonds and strawberries. Certainly nothing outside of Chrissy’s comfort zone, careful not to push the limits of her recovery, though it’ll probably give them both a stomachache in a few hours regardless.

Leaned against some bean bag chairs right under the open window, enjoying the birdsong and cricket chirps, they share their homemade creation, and better, more smiles and lighthearted stories. Like they used to, before highschool drama and all.

Nearing 4, Heather turns to her, uncharacteristically dead serious, and declares, “I hope he makes you this happy.”

The realness inspires Chrissy to do the prying now, switching roles, hoping her friend will open up to her in kind, “Does Jason make you happy?”

“/Jason/ does. Our parents practically arranging for us to be married from the time we were newborns, hm not so much.” Heather sighs, drawing her knees in. She doesn’t quite shut down, it’s more for comfort, self assurance, which Chrissy understands. She gives her space to collect her thoughts.

“He’s my guy best friend. And I love him. In more than the best friend way. It’d be stupid not to end up together. But god there’s so much pressure!”

“I think you should do the jacket thing too.” Chrissy offers carefully, “I’m doing it to prove /my/ date isn’t a one-hit creep. You can do it just to remind yourself why you love your boy. And that he loves you. ‘Cause I know he does, Heather. But I know you’re afraid he doesn’t.”

Heather has tears in her eyes and a sad smile when she looks at Chrissy, “What is with you quiet girls and secretly being psychics?”

Oh how Chrissy wished she truly were a psychic.

At the beginning, she wasn’t nervous at all. Her and Heather bullshitted all the time, it wasn’t anything serious. But they’re all four on a date, wandering downtown around the various second hand stores, a typical stop for one couple, and the complete opposite for the others.

Seemed as good a time as any to go through with their silly plan, it wasn’t like it would hurt anything. Except she’d tried all kinds of things to get Billy to give her his jacket, and so far, none of them worked even a little! Not browsing through a selection of jackets at the stores, not shivering dramatically, not clinging to his side either.

Chrissy felt a chip in her little heart every time, feeling like maybe Heather was right. All over a jacket. She’d have her heart broken for a little bit of wool and leather.

With her boyfriend's name on it. Her boyfriend who actually holds her hand, and tells her she’s pretty, and doesn’t creep his hands under his skirt constantly.

She doesn’t know if she could get over losing that.

Her gait down the strip is admittedly less spirited, lingering behind Heather and Jay, but Billy never leaves her behind. He engages her in conversation too, hair blowing all over the place around his face, “How the fuck do you go outside in this shit?”

Chrissy looks at him, wearing an amused little smile, “Like, ever?”

“Yeah /ever/, Princess.” Billy sarcastically, but lightheartedly bumps her shoulder lightly with his arm, “Jesus, I should take you to California. Gonna miss winters without tiny fucking knives falling from the sky.”

Heather doesn’t lose track of that comment for a minute. Excited for Chrissy, she tries to plant the seed for their plan,

“What’s the matter, Billy? You too cold?”

“Hell no. But I’m not a chick the size of a baby deer.” Billy remarks, taking the bait perfectly well, rubbing Chrissy’s arms and feeling how cold she is, “Shit, you’re fucking frozen, Chris. Here.”

And without even thinking he peels off his varsity jacket and starts to hand it over.

Used to the cold, and despite her excitement wanting to make sure Billy doesn’t get uncomfortable, Chrissy protests, “No, no, no. Keep it. I can’t let your California sunshine freeze over.”

Billy disregards that, slinging it over her shoulders anyways, “Yeah, well I’m not letting all the fuckin’ little pixies that fly around your head freeze to death either.”

Jason scoffs at him, turning around to walk backwards with the group, teasing, “Dude, what does that even mean?”

Without even looking Heather flicks his ear, getting his attention back, “Just because you don’t understand romance doesn’t mean nobody can.”

He looks at her like a kicked puppy, but Jason is nothing if not stubborn, “Pixies? Sunshine? What happened to- beautiful and charming and butterflies in the stomach?”

“I don’t know, Jason. Maybe you should fall in love again and find out.”

“Who would I fall in love with? Nobody can beat you, Holloway.”

Heather rolls her eyes, flicking her hair like an agitated horse would it’s tail, “Ah, see you almost got a couple points there. Almost. You’re in the negatives though for using my last name.”

He tries to recover it suavely, “I could call you Carver instead?”

But that isn’t Heather's way. She counters intensely, “No. I’m not being a child bride, thank you very much. Besides, who says I’m taking your name? Maybe I could call you Holloway.”

“The.. I- Okay.” Jason just sputters, turning pink up to his ears.

Behind them, still lingering a good ways back, Chrissy hums, warm and cozy in her boyfriend’s jacket, “What are they even arguing about?”

Billy laughs about that, shrugs his shoulders, “Hell if I know. They lost me a long time ago.”

“It’s funny. Heather didn’t think you were good for me, but she fights with Jason all the time.” Chrissy informs him.

Billy stops dead in his tracks. Gently uses his hold on Chrissy's hand to spin her around to face him as he fell behind,

“Hold on. Take a step back. Heather thinks /what/ about me?”

Chrissy’s nerves spike so quickly she gets a little dizzy, “Please don't take it personally. I want my two favorite people to like each other. Please.”

Her beau steadies her, instead of freaking out, “No problem. I just find it.. fuckin’ weird.”

“It’s because of the way you drive. And smoke. And act. She thinks it’s bad for me.” Chrissy blurts, knowing it’s unkind but needing him to believe that she had no part in it.

He doesn’t seem too phased by having Heather’s disapproval, apparently learning faster than most people do, “Big fucking deal. At least you know I love you, right?”

“Mhm.” Chrissy nods her assurance, standing on her tiptoes to kiss Billy’s cheek and seal the promise.

“Right. Tell her she’s the one making Jason cry his damn eyes out the second he gets tipsy on a sip of anything stronger than a fuckin’ soda pop. I’m tellin’ you, Holloway has ripped out his heart and shoved it up his own pansy ass.” Billy sounds bitter, but not overly mean.

It’s something he’s thought about before. Good to know the gossip street goes both ways.

It’s why Chrissy doesn’t feel too bad telling Billy now, “She doesn’t mean to. I think she’s scared.”

“Sacred of Carver?…. He hurt her?” His voice drops, as angry and mean as Heather warned her about.

They don’t talk much about serious things, serious isn’t their kind of fun, but Chrissy knows about Billy’s life at home. About the type of man Billy could’ve been destined to be.

She rushes to make sure he doesn’t turn on his own friend for thinking Jason was the same way, “Oh no! No, not at all. Never. It’s her mom and her daddy. They sort of forced her to date Jason. She wasn’t ready. I think she’s ready now and doesn’t want to admit it. ‘Cause that would be like taking their orders.”

“Fuckin’ parents.” Billy eventually grumbles, not knowing what else to say.

It seems to be a common theme in their group. A bonding experience for all four of them, whether or not they’re open about it.

Chrissy doesn’t really feel like talking about that stuff anymore, sort of just mumbling, “Yeah.”

Because Billy is perfect, and none of the things Heather says at all, and the actual bullies in their lives makes her want to just hide. Billy notices the drop in her mood, and silently slings an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side as they walk. Keeping her close. Safe.

Maybe someday things will work out beyond Hawkins. They have to. Winning the jacket was a silly, small victory, but it was a step.

Now Chrissy just wants, more than anything, her friends to be happy.

She holds onto Billy’s hand a little tighter.

The next time Heather and Jason get together, it’s for a study date at the end of that week. With Heather being a year above, the only class they have in common is the Biology two class Heather failed last year. There’s coloring sheets of bones and cells to be completed, so it’s not like they need each other’s help, but sitting on Heather’s bed coloring with colored pencils didn’t seem like a bad deal either way.

At some point, surrounded by all the color, Heather realizes something,

“Honey. We’re going shopping this weekend.”

Jason barely looks up from his work, focused on being neat close to the lines, “For?”

“Clothes. You’ve worn three white polos this week. I’m bringing some color into your life.” Heather pokes him with the flat end of the white pencil for emphasis.

Jason blinks, caught off his guard, “I wear green sometimes.”

“School colors don’t count. Yellow either.”

“I think I have, maybe, /one/ blue shirt.”

Heather digs in the pile for a turquoise-ish pencil, “Blue! Blue’s.. good! That’s definitely on God’s rainbow. Maybe a nice pair of blue jeans too, for once-“

That’s where Jason cuts it off. Because that’s where Heather went from playfully sharp to flat-out insulting, “Heather, please.”

She stays on the defensive, “I’m just saying. There’s nothing wrong with branching out from your choir boy uniform. That’s all.”

Sometimes it’s like she thinks if she pokes a bruise enough, it’ll make her seem like she’s strong enough to cause them. Like she’s all in charge and nothing can stop her.

Jason doesn’t want to stop her, he just wants her basic respect, “So what do you suggest?”

Not even sarcastic, just genuinely enthusiastic to share, Heather starts, “Pastels! Your hair is way too strawberry to be a dark dresser. Unless you go with emeralds, no more tacky green. Ooh, or even if you grow it out some! You know, actually-“

Jason runs his fingers over his neatly parted hair, protecting it, not hiding the concerned squeak to his voice, “No thank you, I happen to like my hair short.”

“Again, baby. Boring.” Heather just rolls her eyes, once again. Sometimes it’s like that’s all she knows how to do.

It stings.

“Look, if nothing I do is ever going to be good enough-“

Heather doesn't entertain that in the least. She slaps her hand over his homework page, making him look at her, “It’s not /you/. You know that it’s not you.”

No, he didn’t know that. Jason looks at her, confused, “What?”

“Just because you dress yourself, and you drive your stupid little station wagon around parading your image, doesn’t mean there’s not that voice in the back of your head. Maybe… maybe a tight fist too. Telling you what to do. You’re afraid.” Heather talks with her hands, just enough that Jason can see through it.

That she’s being showy to hide something.

Doesn’t mean he’s not been rendered self conscious and bare-souled all the same. He doesn’t like that, even after months with Heather not feeling safe showing her all his tender parts like that, “I don’t want to hear this from you.”

“Oh, so a girl can’t have opinions, huh? I should just spread my legs now and let something else do all the talking?” Heather heats the argument.

Jason just lets his head fall back, frustrated, “I don’t- You /know/ I don’t want that.”

“Oh please do enlighten me then, your graciousness.” Heather forces what Jason is thinking out of him.

So he lets it go, without regard to her feelings, even though he hadn’t wanted to, “Look, I’m not stupid. I know your parents are a problem, Heather. Everyone that’s read the paper knows Tom Holloway isn’t a kind man. You try to hide it, but you can’t keep it from me. And you can’t- just take it all out on me!”

“I wasn’t-“ Heather tries to backpedal.

He still doesn’t let her, “You were! You always have! Nobody has the key to the lock on your heart, but I’ve been trying anyways. And you just shut. me. down!”

“Jason…”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry we didn’t meet for real until high school. I’m sorry I can’t save you because I’ve got my own.. shit to deal with. But, and forgive me for using His name in vain, Jesus fucking Christ Heather!”

“Jason..” Heather repeats, clearly more misty eyed than before, and opens her arms. A hug is letting him in physically, letting him get close even when the words aren’t easy.

Mostly, she hadn’t realized Jason could read her as easily as she could read him.

He takes the vulnerability to mean it’s safe to say, “I love you.”

“I know.” Is Heather’s response. It’s not easy to say it back, not when she chokes on it every time she tries to say it to her ‘problems,’ let alone a highschool boyfriend she was never supposed to fall for, not in her own heart.

It’s enough. Jason keeps holding her, lips against her shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

Heather repeats herself, “I know.”

Nothing else felt right to say. Because she /was/ sorry too, but saying it second would feel ingenuine. At least, she’d read it that way.

She closes her eyes and feels exhausted. It’s not supposed to be this hard. Their school years are drawing to a close, and yet she can’t even admit her own parents treat her like shit.

Maybe a silent tear drop or two drips off the end of her nose behind Jason’s back. If he noticed, he didn’t say a word.

After a while, Heather needs to do something, sitting and thinking and regretting not doing anything to help, “Can we call Chrissy and Billy and go get some ice cream or something?”

“Sure. I think I owe that to you for keeping myself so.. alone.” Jason admits, bashful but genuine.

And isn’t that just the thing. Heather gives him a tiny smile back, “Ditto, baby.”

Ice cream ran into the evening, all of them itching for an excuse to stay out. Chrissy was the last to finish her bowl of two raspberry scoops with sprinkles, half of it melted into sludge by the last spoonful, and even that’s not a distraction enough.

It’s early spring, which means, as the group informed Billy, that the Hawkins drive-in theater was opening back up. Nobody even needed to discuss it to know that’s what they wanted to do. There were a variety of chick-flicks and even more horror sequels in the box office, which meant the two week delay at the drive-in would make for some good choices at least. Most Hawkins residents would take their trucks out there, not some prissy little station wagon, but it would do.

At least, it should, but Billy started getting impatient with cruising along under the speed limit out to the wooded hill where the drive-in is, “Can’t this piece of shit go faster?”

Heather turned around slightly to face and scold him, “Well, we coulda brought yours if you hadn’t decided to buy the extra tiny, no room for fun model.”

Billy just snorted humorlessly, “We could fit if there was any actual fun going on. Leaving room for the Lord or whatever is what fucks it up.”

For that comment, knowing their company, Chrissy pushed Billy’s arm gently. Still, she didn’t seem to disagree too harshly, since she smiled through when he kissed her next.

Heather seemed irritated, though that tends to be her default honestly, as she huffed, “Not everyone’s a sleaze like you, Hargrove. Get used to it.”

Billy hadn’t even justified it with a response, just waved her off and used the same arm to swing it over the seat behind Chrissy. She was wearing his jacket again, hadn’t taken it off all week, curled into his side and wearing his name. In that bubbly way she does, she was also wiggling her hands about, not nervous, but happy.

Content.

Heather and Jason still had a ways to go to reach contentment.

The pair stay in the car for the movie, their counterparts in a blanket on the grass instead. Cali boy is out there freezing his ass off, but he’d said anything would be better than being trapped with relationship drama.

Heather and Jason try to ignore him.

They fail.

Jason turns to her not even a full twenty minutes after that comment starts working it’s way under his skin, “Heather?”

“Hm?” She hums to show she’s listening, but doesn’t look his way.

That’s not enough for what needs to be said, so he repeats, “Heather.”

“Yeah, that’s me. You need something?”

“I wanted- I just…. I’m sorry.”

Her pretty features screw up in confusion, “For what?”

“For not being good enough.” Jason informs, like it was the most clear thing, “You’d be happier with a guy like Billy. Maybe you could call up Steve-“

“No, fuck you if you think I could ever leave you.” She spits.

And then she grabs Jason by the collar of his polo and kisses him.

It’s nothing chaste, nothing at all like their usual peck of the lips. This is roaming tongues and hands.

Heather reigns herself in when she feels Jason’s hands, holding her hips up under the back of her shirt, shaking.

“I’m not gonna make you do anything. Sex isn’t my endgame.”

He sort of freezes, like it hadn’t occurred to him that Heather wouldn’t mind helping him in his devotion to modesty, “So what is?”

“An apartment. Maybe get a cat. I want to share a space with you long before we do marriage shit.” Heather explains lightly, smile on her face.

Jason relaxes his shoulders, “Make it a dog and we’ll see. Dogs are better.”

“Oh, ha-ha. Make it one of each and I’ll forgive you for that comment.”

Heather kisses him again, without any heat or intensity this time, just gentle, soft affection. She even lets him touch her hair, despite usually slapping his hands away for that. It helps that she’d brushed it out to be restyled before bed tonight, but still, she would have let him even if her curls were laying perfect.

When they pull away, Heather lays her head on Jason’s shoulder. Instead of watching Cat’s Eye on the screen, her gaze falls to their friends huddled up outside, and she muses, “How much you wanna bet Chrissy and Billy run away into the sunset?”

“I hope they do. Hawkins is Hell on earth.” Jason asserts, clearly serious because he usually wouldn’t even mention a place like that.

Heather sighs slightly, “Literally. The kidnappings, the murders. I can’t take much more of it.”

Confident, Jason says, “I’m sure they’d make room for us then. If we wanted to go with them.”

That has Heather sitting up straighter, surprised, “You would live in California?”

Sunny skies, living free- it didn’t seem very much his pace. The order and the mundanity of Midwestern life seemed better for Jason.

He just shrugs for now, “Who knows? We’ll see when we get there.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Heather wonders aloud, as she knows it, finding that Jason prefers to have his entire life planned out.

He only sounds a little tense as he tries to sound brave and strong, “Getting there.”

The tension between them had to have been coming from there. She wanted nothing more than to rebel and escape, while he, even when he was feeling crushed by the weight of parental disapproval, was nothing short of desperate to be back in their graces.

If Heather could be more open to discussion when that made her uncomfortable, and Jason less complicit to begin with, the pair would probably be on the right path again.

She lays her head on him again, and this time, Jason takes his arm out of one sleeve of his varsity jacket, slinging it around her like a blanket. Her heart absolutely soars. The promise to Chrissy was fulfilled, she and her honey were working out just fine now, after she’d gotten Billy’s jacket.

That’s gotta be a sign that things will work out for Heather too.

“Hey, Jason?”

“Hm?”

She feels compelled to finally confess, “I love you.”

It’s Jason this time who, after a soft little kiss to her forehead, says, “I know.”

#strr2024 #billy hargrove #chrissy cunningham #calicheer #billy x chrissy #heather holloway #jason carver #choirguard #heathson #jason x heather #my writing #ej writer #st rarepairs

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the-magpie-archives · 1 year

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Okay so this October just gone I went to a panel at comicon that Jonathan Sims was speaking at, and it was great! I'm obviously a fan of his work and some other great writers were on it too, so I really enjoyed it. During this panel, Jonathan said something along the lines of 'A really unnerving piece of cover art can go a long way to prime your audience'. So I thought "huh yeah that makes sense!" yknow, however the phrase goes, we all do judge a book by it's cover to some extent and it definitely helps to be in the right mood for what you're about to read. But I don't think I really fully understood until just now exactly how right he was.

I'm a uni student so obviously I'm pretty broke, but I'd been wanting to read Thirteen Storeys for ages, so you can imagine my excitement when I found a second hand copy for £1.50! It wasn't in the great condition, but it was good enough, and I'd take any hardcover for that price!

The arrival of the book happened to coincide with my sleep schedule being even more messed up than usual, but this was kinda welcome in context! I love horror, but I read a lot of it so I'm a little desensitised; this combined with doing ghost hunting for fun means that horror media is the best for me when I'm sleep deprived and on edge.

As expected from the first couple chapters the writing was excellent and the story delightfully engaging, but to my pleasant surprise it was really quite creepy! And made all the more enjoyable by how relatable it is. For some reason though, chapter three really got under my skin. Stuff with kids freaks me out in general, that creeping sense of dread as the story builds up to its climax, and an odd memory from (much hated) church as a child all built together to make it stick in my mind for the entire day, and following night.

I mostly read late at night so when I picked the book up again to carry on, I was still thinking about chapter three, still freaked out, and still sleep deprived as hell. I kept thinking about the woman I bought the book from, I'm not sure why. I guess I was thinking about kids and wondering if she had any that would've messed with the book to get it into that condition, but whatever. I kept reading, enjoying it just as much, if not more for the lingering taste of chapter three.

By the time I put the book down it was around 3am, and i was pleasantly spooked enough to go to sleep. I don't know why but I stopped for a moment to look at the cover, partially examining the marks and scratches, partially admiring the design.

That's when I saw 'PENNY' written messily on the back and when I tell you my heart DROPPED. I don't know what I thought! But my 3am mind was racing, scared as FUCK. Had this random woman's kid read the book? Had they just decided to scribble out the first name they read when they opened it? Why that one!?!? Why could it not be LITERALLY ANY OTHER NAME???

And that is when I realised that it is PART OF THE FUCKING COVER ART. Well played Sims, well fucking played. In one simple design detail I was forced through the entire emotional journey of the story again in SECONDS. I could've dropped dead. (though to be honest, someone found dead clutching a copy of the book would probably be good publicity considering).

So yeah, moral of the story? Good cover art can do ALL MANNERS OF THINGS to your audience. For my sake, use it wisely.

#Jonathan Sims deserves to know that the cover art of his book scared me in that moment more than I've been scared by real actual ghosts #Kudos to whoever thought of that because holy fucking shit #It genuinely had me terrified and nothing does that these days #It's also worth noting that I wrote this post like‚ just after it'd happened‚ hence the aggression 💀#I forgot about it for a few months but I think it's funny so it's coming out of the drafts #thirteen storeys #Jonathan Sims #Jonny sims #horror books #horror writing

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leastdatablebracket · 9 months

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QUARTER FINALS, MATCH 3

Propaganda under the cut! (tw rape)

Laito Sakamaki

Propaganda

I really could've picked any of the boys from that series really but this dude literally keeps referring to the MC as little bitch. Also, asshole wears a fedora. The fact he made the most datable poll astounds me

He's not a nice man with Yui (the protagonist) and even do some deplorable things with her when she SAYS she doesn't want to. He has a sobbing backstory and uses that to do whatever he wants. He should go to a psychiatrist. In jail.

He is a rapist! In both the anime and the games, he sexually harasses Yui. I can't remember if it was more explicit in the games, but there was a cutaway scene in the church Yui grew up in where he forces himself on her. Like the other vampire brothers, he enjoys causing her pain and suffering, and he particularly likes playing mind games with her along with his usual shit. Canonically, Yui is just the last girl in a very, very long line of "sacrificial brides" who the brothers all ended up killing in one way or another. Laito may look and act like a teenager, but he's an immortal vampire and he knows what he's doing.

This man repeatedly assaults the protagonist (Yui) because he wants to "taint" her. At first he only strips her and touches her only laughing when she says no because "well what a perverted woman, why aren't you being honest with yourself" and it's implied that he rapes her. There's a scene where Yui contemplate suicide (keep in mind she's religious and try to keep her faith even while abused so it's a big deal) because she can't take it anymore, and then Laito shows up in her bath and makes her harm herself. He humiliates her in public. He's just horrible. His excuse is that his mother abused him and he convinced himself he liked it and he loved her. At the end of his route Yui is totally broken in my opinion, convinced she is tainted now and losing her faith in god. Granted he isn't the worst of his brothers but this man is definitely undatable. While he softens in later games, this man is horrible.

Peter King

Propaganda

Oh I could go ON AND ON but here’s a list: He’s a stalker, he showed up late to a date HE REQUESTED, he killed either your landlord, roommate, or coworker (depending on route) and stuck them in a freezer, lied to the police about it, followed by a car ride either consisting of traumadumping about his family (valid tbh) or him talking about how much he wants to fuck your brains out, then you finding a bloody knife in his glove compartment, asking about it, and him smashing your head into the window to shut you up while he takes you to his house. He is The Worse Datable, as well as The Only Datable because well…he killed the others…and kidnapped you….

FUCK THIS DUDE!!! Country Human looking-ass bitch, I want him dead and obliterated

Many violence, Yandere behavior, cut your leg off in a semi-canon series of illustrations, smashed your head into the passenger side window of his creepy van, chloroformed you in your own house, brought you flowers that were probably tainted with his own blood, given context from another route. Generally a terrible person. Also just very strange to look at :/

He knows what he did….😒

He broke into Y/N’s house and chloroformed them. Generally a really creepy and perverted guy. TK is better :/

Send that man to Worst Datable Hell! Put him in the trash file (he’s a pseudo-sentient AI, similar to Monika, so this threat is valid)! He sometimes looks like a kicked puppy when talking to you, but with your small contributions, we can make him look even more like a kicked puppy! Vote Peter King for Worst Datable Datable Character today! Bonus: Funny canon facts about him! - He can��t swim - He’s allergic to peanuts - He has to wear glasses, but usually wears contacts - He had an emo/goth phase in high school - He’s a YouTuber; he does product reviews - He has very strong mother issues (understandably) - He will respond to and greatly enjoy the nickname “Cockbite” (there are many other names he enjoys, but this one’s the funniest to me)

#quarter finals

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ramennoodlezzzao3 · 20 days

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nobody asked me to answer, but I’m gonna anyways 😝

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats

Idk how to do that lol

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?

I couldn’t find any fics that I wanted bc I’m too specific, so I started writing. It was purely for fun and I wasn’t fully thinking about the fact that people might actually read it AND enjoy it lol

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

me and some of my moots from TikTok created this playlist lol (it’s, like, 14 hours long)

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? Idk what that means but ima go off of what I’m thinking and that is just editing while proof reading and I enjoy it! 10/10

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

🙏👉😁🔥💀 (no, it’s not abt the burning church 💀🙏)

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

I’m new here, I have no EXTREMELY close moots so idk. But @paul-ster seems pretty chill so probably them (

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

I HAVE SO MANY I LOVE! But if I had to choose rn Soracha for the author and “Ron Weasley and His First Year at Hogwarts” by snoopy_owl. Two of my favs!

💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now?

none, believe it or not. I constantly check it for ao3 updates. But I also have three separate yt accounts so I get regular emails abt comments and updates and I normally check them everyday. The only exception is one email I use for spam sites like grammarly, that email has 408 unread emails.

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

@fictionalcharactergraveyard

🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?

ooo, neither tbh. Unless its a one-shot or a mini fic where I add a S/O or like my unpublished Uber fic where I had to add several OG characters, I don’t like adding new ones bc I think it disrupts the story a lot and I normally don’t read fics when people do that. And personally, unless it’s the ones that are supposed to be halrious and satire, I think self-inserts are kinda cringey bc most people who write them over-sexulize the characters and add weird stuff in that makes me cringe (key word: MOST not ALL) but also I just cant imagine myself dating someone let alone my comfort characters.

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

I don’t think I have any

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?

I just can’t get into the writing mood. But when I start it’s really hard to stop

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

PURLY! I love to think Curly calls pony “Mi Amor” or like calls him pet names in Spanish. I think it’s really cute

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

literally don’t be fake as hell. Don’t be all shy and sweet like, if you are comeback or Yapping king/queen then tell me bc we can yap together. Like, If I can call you Pookie within the first four interactions, we are besties, considered us married at that point

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

I’m redecorating my room, I got a new puppy, and- wait, bitch, who gives a fuck, let’s be honest 💀🙏

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

can’t say bc it’s an unpublished chapter of a on going fic 😝

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

Harry Potter is kinda an ass

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I don’t write anything too bizarre so I can’t think of anything

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

strive to accomplish what you set as a goal, not what society set as a standard or a must

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

My comfort character gets ignored hard core, makes new friends, get into shenanigans, and then a lot of angst ensues. Who would write it best? Mmm…Fictionalcharacter graveyard or Soracha

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

if you have a scene you want to write for a fic, start writing it but ONLY WRITE THE DIALOGUE. You can add who said it but I do it all the time and it gives me new ideas and gradually helps me continue a fic. It’s also easier to add detail in between when you are focused on that instead of getting to the next dialogue scene.

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

Nick Sturniolos iconic “Then he will taste the rainbow while he goes out”

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

“I LOVE THIS, I CAN’T WAIT FOR ANOTHER CHAPTER!” Then they go on an entire yap session about how they think the fic will turn out or parts they’re excited for. It always makes me happy to see someone enjoy my hobby as much as I do even though we have different perspectives 🤭

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

Alr, ik im gonna get backlash but i cant stand Cherry Valence. 1. I will give it to her, she’s a downright badass.

2. her hair is really pretty

3. She was nice to pony at the drive in, I’ll give her some points (still don’t like her too much tho)

🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told?

Not much. Okay, this is gonna sound so fricking clique but that last lie I told was “Yeah, I’m fine, just tired” even though I know damn well I’m probably depressed asf

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately

I have only older siblings and every time one moves out, I stop talking to them so I don’t become the annoying youngest sister, so I’m afraid their gonna forget about me, and they probably will. I only have two siblings that still live with me so that’s only two more people left to forget me before I’m totally alone lol. (Depressed, see?)

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?

book writers that can describe really well.

🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing

I think I’m too impatient and give myself an unrealistic deadline for stuff

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises?

I like them a lot!

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

I’ll add that later lol

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

it was a name my family wouldn’t be able to find. I’m embarrassed to write bc my family LOVES to pick out your insecurities and hobbies and never let you live them down.

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

again, I’m new here, so nobody here is my “supporter” but @shae-pine has liked all of my posts so ig them? I got to say, that “The Youngest (The Favorite)” fic I really liked! Ur also just the sweetest person ever! 😭🫶🏻

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

I have 7 (I had 8 but my cat passed away yesterday, RIP in the comments for Sophie 🩵)

I won’t post pics because that’s a large file 😭🙏

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

I DONT HAVE THE LINK BUT I LOVE THIS

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

self insert, too much OOC scenes, pairings I don’t like, oc’s/characters unless it’s the character I’m reading abt, pure smut or p*rn, over sexulization or romanticizing R*pe, over detailed non-con, specific characters are dead, and the fic doesn’t focus on a character that I wanna read about.

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #ao3 #fanfic #ao3 writer #harry potter #ron weasley #questions #writers on tumblr #Spotify

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peterman-spideyparker · 2 years

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All About Timing (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Author’s Note: So many ideas, so little time. I literally wrote this in thirty minutes on my phone after scrolling through this hell site and seeing this gif again and it looks like he’s in front of a church (I know I still need to watch Kin I’m working on it) and I’m also definitely not tinkering with a role reversal sorta similar idea yes I am I’m a dirty rotten liar. I promise I’m working on Steven/Marc/Jake fics. There’s just a circus on fire in my head right now. Okay, enjoy! :)

Summary: Remaining friends with Matt after a breakup was fine—you care for him and know you need him in your life. But Matt unloads a bombshell on you minutes before you walk down the aisle.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, love confessions, guilt/heartache, Catholic guilt?

Other Characters: Father Lantom

Word Count: 1,314

“I know it’s bad timing,” Matt starts as he stands in front of the door.

“Bad timing?” you repeat. “I’m getting married in ten minutes, Matt.”

“I know,” he says, his voice terribly quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“Matt, whatever you’re gonna say, please don’t,” your voice wavering ever so slightly.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

You close your eyes and sigh, praying that you keep calm though this. “Matt—.”

“I know I don’t have any right to be telling you this now. It’s selfish of me.” Even though he keeps it silent silent, you know him well enough to distinguish the pattern of his shaking breath as he tries to keep himself composed. “But you should know everything before you make this commitment. I have never stopped loving you. I thought pushing you away would keep you safe, and it has. I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy. But at the same time, watching you fall in love with someone else—(Y/N), you needed to know. You’ve only ever asked me to be honest with you.”

Matt dips his head, letting the weight of his words hang in the air before he starts to turn.

“No!“ you shout in a fury, halting his movements. “No, Matthew. You can’t just come in here, say those things, and walk away!”

“(Y/N)—.”

“What did you think was going to happen after telling me this? I would rush into you arms, call everything off, and we start again?”

You watch as a tear rolls down his cheek from behind his glasses. You don’t need super senses to know the guilt he feels about dropping this all on you now.

“You deserved to know,” he says softly.

“No, I didn’t. And you don’t get to decide that for me. Get out, Matt,” you say, your voice cold and calculated—a tone you have never taken with him. “Go.”

Matt’s expressive face contorts into pure pain as he uses all of his strength to keep his bottom lip from trembling and breaking down then and there, turning like a wounded animal as your words lay thick in the air.

“If you didn’t feel the same way about Matthew, you wouldn’t still be thinking about his words,” Father Lantom says as he sits in the pew next to you.

“I don’t need the lecture right now, Father,” you say weakly, your voice thick with tears. “I’ve already been yelled at by my fian—ex-fiancé and his family, I know my parents aren’t thrilled with me, and I yelled at one of the people I’m—was closest with. So whatever you’re going to say right now, respectfully, I don’t want to hear it.��

You watch Father Lantom nod in your peripheral vision.

“Is there anything you want to talk about, then?” he tries.

You shake your head. “No. I made my decision, and now I have to deal with the consequences. Still a little time for self-loathing, though, first.”

Quietly, Father Lantom gets up from his spot next to you, smoothing his robes. “Just know that your relationship isn’t severed. It’s only strained.”

As you listen to Father Lantom’s footsteps grown more faint up the aisle, you reach for your phone, your fingers hovering over Matt’s contact information. After a solid ten minutes, you quickly tap the phone icon, fearing you’ll lose your courage otherwise. You’re not surprised when you get his voicemail, but you can’t help but worry slightly.

“Hi Matt,” you start. “I don’t blame you for not picking up—I wouldn’t pick up the phone for me, either. I just want to apologize for how I said what I said. I was upset and my mind was racing, and . . . I understand if you don’t speak to me again—.” You move the phone away from your ear to try and collect yourself so you don’t leave a message of you just weeping. You’re still so frustrated—at yourself, at Matt, at Father Lantom for being right—you can’t finish the message. “—I’m sorry, Matt.“ You press the little red end button and bury your face in your hands, starting to weep once more in the quiet church.

“Tissue?” you hear someone ask. You’re so absorbed in your tears, you almost didn’t hear them. Looking up through blurry eyes, you can make out Matt’s familiar frame. Taking in his slumped posture and how quickly he has a tissue ready, it registers that his voice is hoarse, scratchy from tears of his own. You take the tissue from his fingers without a word, wiping the tears from your eyes before moving it to your running nose.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here, still,” Matt continues. “I was hoping to find Father Lantom.”

“He went . . . somewhere,” you sniffle, playing with the tissue in your hands. “I’m just basking in the carnage.”

“Can I?” he asks softly.

“Yeah,” you breathe, scooching over, even though you don’t need to.

“I’m sorry I ruined your wedding,” Matt says after a pregnant pause. “I was being selfish.”

“You didn’t ruin it, Matt,” you say. “It took two people to make this wedding go down in flames, and you’re taking to the guiltier one right now.”

“I’m not trying to excuse or justify anything, but I should have told you earlier,” Matt says quietly. “I’m sorry for waiting until the worst possible moment. I just never wanted to be dishonest with you, especially after what we went through after you found out about what else I do.”

“To be fair, the worst possible moment would have been during the ceremony,” you say. While misery loves company, it also really loves when Matt has a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m sorry that your fiancé and his family got so mad at you.”

“I’m not surprised that you heard that,” you admit. “But to be fair, they probably heard it all the way in Norway, so.”

That gets a small, breathy chuckle out of him, and you can feel your heart skip a beat as the sound rings like music in your ears.

“I ruined us, did I?” you ask softly, the question having pounded away at your chest since the moment you told Matt to leave, the guilt of hurting your friend like that becoming all too much. Those words you said to him have been running through your mind on loop, making you sick to your stomach since you uttered them.

Matt wraps you in his arms just before an ugly, wet sob can blubber from your lips. He holds onto you tight and lets you bury your face in his neck, his large hand holding onto the back of your head.

“No,” he breathes as you weep into his suit. “No, angel, never. You were mad and had every right to be.”

You sigh and pull back from him. “Matt, it’s more than that,” you tell him. “I love you so much, I literally don’t know what to do with it. It’s so confusing. I just know that I don’t want to be without you. And I only really, truly realized that after I snapped and thought I lost you forever.”

Matt rests his forehead on yours, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to soothe you.

“I don’t know where we go from here,” you whisper.

“We try again,” he says carefully. “We try again, and we make it work. Because next time you’re in a dress like this, I want to be the one waiting for you to tell you how much I love you in front of God and in front of everyone.”

Matt wraps you in a hug once more, and for this first time all day, your heart finally feels at ease—and you know Matt’s does, too.

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andromedaexists · 11 months

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Devout: An Anthology of Angels || ed. Quinton Li

★★★★☆

TW: MENTIONED AT THE START OF EACH SHORT STORY

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Okay, let’s get the important information out of the way first: I was lucky enough to receive an ARC of this lovely anthology in exchange for an honest review.

Dope! Now to my thoughts. I think the scream really encompasses my thoughts on it! Devout is an amazing anthology full of stories that push the boundaries of what we consider holy.

It has a really strong start with a piece by Freydís Moon that really makes the trans body holy. Honestly, a good majority of these stories make what is considered heretical in today’s society into something that is so much more.

There are also quite a few stories that push the divine, the pure, into Desecration. I love those stories, it makes me think and makes me confront my own beliefs and what I consider to be holy.

Then, it ends with five star hit after five star hit! They really stacked the beginning and end of this anthology and I LOVE THAT!

I fully expected this to be amazing with names like Freydís Moon, Morgan Dante, Tyler Battaglia, and Rafael Nicolás being thrown around, and I was not disappointed. I am so honored to be selected to read this early and tell you all to read it.

I don’t have much more to say here, I broke down my thoughts on each story as I read it. I have those thoughts down below in order of how they appear in the anthology

I know it’s tempting, authors of Devout, to want to see what I individually rated your stories. But please, if you do look at it, remember that my rating is not a reflection on you as an author. Sometimes stories just don’t line up with everyone, and that is okay. I love all of you and you are all amazing, no matter what I thought of your story. (also reviews are for readers, not for authors. Please keep that in mind).

The Angels at Harvest Church - Freydís Moon

TW: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, MENTION OF SNAKES/SNAKE BITES, OFF-PAGE TRANSPHOBIA

“I am made to be yours, my King on Earth, my Morning Star. Have mercy, please”

“You look at him and see fire in his eyes. Brimstone. Chaos. Rebirth.

This short story is one hell of a way to open this anthology, holy shit. Quite literally holy shit, too!

This story makes the trans body holy. That is the best way I can describe it. It is the closest thing I’ve had to a religious experience since I left the church. Sure, it is smut, but it is also so much more than that (not that smut is bad or lesser in any way, as we all know I love a good smut story)

10/10, I haven't read the other stories yet but I know this is going to be one of my favorites.

★★★★★

I Know My Father - Dorian Yosef Webber

The next entry in the anthology is a poem, or, I am assuming it is a poem since my kindle said “fuck you” to the formatting. I’m not gonna lie, this issue with my kindle made me put down Devout for a moment. I imagine it’s beautiful on literally any other reader and on paper, but my little kindle paperwhite just cannot handle it.

Actually, I do have the kindle app on my phone, let me see how it looks there. Yeah, okay, it definitely makes more sense and comes across as a poem on my phone. I ordered the paperback copy of Devout as well so I will be able to fully see it in its beauty then!

As for the content of the poem, maybe it’s because I’m just not a poetry person but I didn’t understand it at first. I do now, and I love the story! There is something in my little heart that is drawn to names that are not the one you are born with, and this story renames its protag so effortlessly that I had to do a double take to make sure we were still talking about the same person!

Some quotes that I absolutely love are: (only two because this is a short poem and I don’t wanna give away too much)

Bless me the way you bless your Father

Your name is now Israel, he breathes against sweat-slick skin, for you have conquered both man and divine

Like, this poem (now that I understand it) is so… filling? I’m not sure how I would describe it. It feels to me the same as sitting in a pew at church before mass when there’s only you and the Father there, doing your own things and not interacting with each other. Y’know? (is my roman catholic upbringing shining through, yet? lmao)

★★★★☆

Seasons of God - Angela Sun

This short story came with content warnings that I will also put here. TW: SUICIDE, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, BODY HORROR, UNDERTONES OF SEXUAL HARASSMENT AND GROOMING, MENTIONS OF RAPE, MISOGYNY

Now that we’ve got those down, let's talk about the story! I… didn’t like it. It feels very rushed to me, like the author is trying to fit a novel into a short story.

The premise is definitely there! I said it once with Sugar People and I will say it again: I fucking love stories about abuse in the Church and the victim winning.

But where it really lacks is just that. Sure, Rui got as good of an ending as she could have, but it’s all so rushed. I have no idea what’s going on because it’s just thing after thing after thing, we don’t get to learn about any of the characters or where they are or anything. There is no atmosphere to this story and it desperately needs some.

Like, I don’t think I can sum this up in a better way than just: I don’t understand. I haven’t even talked about the body horror because honestly there wasn’t any. There are moments that are supposed to be body horror, but they are like one or two lines here and there and they are not described. At all.

That being said, I really think this would make an amazing premise for a novel. I think the extended format would do wonders for this story and I greatly look forward to what this author has lined up for the future

★★☆☆☆

Resta Con Me - Ian Haramaki

TW: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF DEAD BODIES, MENTIONS OF ALCOHOLIC/ABUSIVE PARENT, VIOLENCE, OPEN DOOR SMUT

I am SCREAMING omg this short story, y’all.

This short story is what I wish the last one was. Not in content, I love that the stories don’t resemble each other. But this one had the backstory and the length but also the atmosphere. I hate comparing two artists' work to each other though, so that is all I will say.

This story is AMAZING I am absolutely living for Dani omg, like he is the most laid back and unconcerned person in existence I’m SCREAMING

Some quotes that just made me fucking cackle (both said by Dani because ofc they were):

“Do you two mind? This is a library.”

“Anyway, be not afraid or whatever.”

I’m actually finding it really hard to talk about this story without spoiling it, since everything else about the story is just incoherent screaming. But yeah, I loved it!

★★★★★

Seraphim - Ian Haramaki

Stunning, beautiful. I really don’t have much to say on this, art is a soft spot of mine and I love seeing it in this collection.

With Wings Like Madeleines - Dorian Yosef Weber

TW: REFERENCES TO EATING DISORDERS, SEXUAL ASSAULT/ABUSE

I mean, this story isn’t the worst. It’s kind of meh in my opinion, I’m just not quite sure what the point of it is. It’s very… I’m not an angel, but I’m not not an angel, and I can’t see angels, but I choose not to see demons, and I’m human and dirty. Which, I mean, mood.

I guess this story just confused me more than I normally care for in a story, it feels like it’s not going anywhere. I do really like the mention of a prophet having a hot coal put in his mouth, though. That was fun and a really cool play to get us to try and understand what’s going on with the protagonist!

★★★☆☆

And the Mountains Melt Like Wax - Tyler Battaglia

TW: FIRE, DEATH, PANIC ATTACKS, BODY HORROR

Oh this story trips the same part of my brain that The Binding of Bloom Mountain did! It’s nature, it’s horror, it’s not Appalachia this time but I mean it’s on a mountain all the same.

The inclusion of body horror and things that just aren’t right in natural and peaceful scenes such as hiking up a mountain will always hold the world for me. Especially with the tender show of love and care, like I am actually crying after reading this story. Sure, the angel in here is all kinds of fucked up and bug-like, but it’s also so loving and caring. It genuinely cares for Abel (the main character).

I mean, this line perfectly describes it:

It was awful. It was beautiful. It was Godly. It was Hellish. It was the most ordinary miracle of all.

I also quite love the play on Cain and Abel, twisting the story so that (SPOILERS) Abel is the one to kill, and Cain is the one to take care of his brother. I love that.

★★★★★

The Mountains, The Mountains, The Mountains - Tyler Battaglia

Stunning, gorgeous, we all know I love art. It fits so perfectly after the last story, too, with the mountains. I love this piece.

We Suffer In Fire - Tyler Battaglia

TW: FIRE, DEATH, MURDER, RELIGIOUS FANATICISM, MONSTER/BODY HORROR

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA holy shit??????? I’m screaming, this short story is the perspective of the firesetter from the first Tyler short story AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

This short story is the mental ramblings of a clinically insane person who believes himself to be the Hand of God, the person to call forward something by sacrificing people through fire. Omg, I love this so much.

I love that we get to see both sides of the story, first in And The Mountains Melt Like Wax from the perspective of a firefighter and then from the perspective of the person who set the fire.

This story is very short, and while I am sad about that I think it was the perfect length for what it is.

This story is amazing, my God.

★★★★★

Divine Body - Daniel Marie James

This poem is beautiful. It is a lot shorter than the poems we’ve seen thus far, but no less impactful. It gets its point across very plainly and clearly, and I really appreciate it for that!

★★★★☆

halfway to heaven - Freydís Moon

Right off the bat with this poem, the font is different. It is smaller. This is fine on my kindle paperwhite since I can always just change the font size, but I anticipate having a hard time with it once my paperback arrives. I am not terribly visually impaired, but it is still rather hard to make out some of the words without making the text much, much larger (and that’s already making it larger than my previously too-large setting). I normally read on a 7 or 8 on the kindle paperwhite, but I read this story with a size 10 font.

Other than that, I really like this poem. I think this is my favorite poem so far, I would even say my favorite poem in the whole anthology (sorry, rafa). It is downright lyrical, and boy am I a sucker for music. Even the formatting of this poem with its strange spacing screams SING ME.

I really don’t have much else to say on this poem, it is genuinely a lovely piece that speaks to the more musical part of my soul and I love it for that!

★★★★★

Fade To Black - Morgan Dante

TW: MENTIONS OF HEAVENLY VIOLENCE (ANGEL FACE MELTING), MENTIONS OF NB TRANSMASC CHARACTER DEALING WITH DEADNAMING AND TRANSPHOBIA AND MISGENDERING, EMETOPHOBIA

This story is not for me. It has a lot of the same issues I found with Seasons of God, it’s fast paced with no real time to take in anything. All in all, the tone of the story, the way it was told, and the style it was told in are just not for me.

★★☆☆☆

Misery in Company - Morgan Dante

TW: DEATH, MENTION OF OFFSCREEN VIOLENCE

Now this story, this is one that I can get behind. It feels very fleshed out, and though there are a few plot inconsistencies (in my opinion), I think it’s really great!

The pace is much slower in this piece as compared to the first one, which I greatly appreciate. I feel like we got to actually experience the story and the characters, got to truly know them.

This is a continuation of the first piece, or, well, a bigger part of a brief mention in the earlier story. It really pulled at my heart strings for a bit. The story started to fall apart towards the end, it seems like it shifts from a love narrative to an abusive acceptance. This is not a tone I like to read, and I really would have preferred if we stayed with the loving overtone of the first half of the story.

Overall, I like it! I probably wouldn’t read it again, but I am a chronic single reader anyways. It takes a lot to get me to re-read anything lol

★★★★☆

Enfleshed - Cas Trudeau

TW: INTERNALIZED GENDER DYSPHORIA, DISCUSSIONS OF GENDER SELF-ACTUALIZATION

I mean this in the best way possible but this poem reads like a medieval translation of an ancient latin or greek poem. Reading this felt like I was reading something for class, and though I struggle with poetry and struggle to understand its nuance even I can tell that the words hold deep meaning.

★★★★☆

Swarm Behavior - Aurélio Loren

TW: SEX, BODY HORROR, VAGUE MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT, GORE, INSECTS

Not gonna lie, I have no idea what I just read. Timeline, who? It seems to jump between two different time frames with no distinction between them other than just knowing that something new was happening in a different place.

That’s not to say I didn’t like it, no no. I really enjoyed this piece once I understood that and was able to go back and mentally jigsaw the timeline together. This piece has some real thick and heavy body horror, like I’m talking it made me a bit queasy type of body horror. Maybe that was the bugs, though. I am really not a fan of bugs.

Speaking of! I added insects to the list of TWs for this short, it wasn’t originally included I think because the name implies but but! Better safe than sorry and hoo boy was that a lot of bug stuff, my god.

★★★☆☆

Recovered Contents From an Angel’s Stomach - Rae Novotny

TW: MENTIONED ANIMAL DEATH & CRUELTY, BODILY FLUIDS, BODY HORROR, CANNIBALISM, DEATH, GORE, STRONG LANGUAGE

Hooooo boy this story. This story feels so different from the rest in this anthology and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. In this story, the confusion is key. I feel like I just read a fever dream, and I quite liked it. I had no idea who we were following at any time but I don’t think that’s necessary, just that the being we were following was Angel.

This story also has some banger lines, I mean:

God, he thinks, is a pervert.

Heaven, at last: to be utterly devout, and devoured.

So yeah, quite a good story. Confusing, but using that confusion to its advantage.

★★★★☆

An angel song from the ether - Rafael Nicolás

TW: SEXUAL CONTENT, SOME VIOLENCE

I am SCREAMING. Rafa, as always, delivered devastation in this poem. It reads almost like Catullus. Like, the homoerotic overtone (not an undertone, never an undertone) with the blatant hatred and pessimism. Like, it’s not over the top like Catullus often is with that, but you can feel the underlying hatred in this line:

Angel, I waited long enough for you, there is no love left in me, now, but lust I’ve never known to live without

It’s giving a more graphic Catullus 5, it’s giving Catullus 8. Hell, it might even give Ovid! I’m not as familiar with the Ars Amatoria or the Amores as I am Catullus, but Ovid definitely has a more sensual vibe like this poem does. All in all, an amazing addition.

★★★★★

Hashem yireh - Dorian Yosef Weber

TW: GENDER DYSPHORIA, RESTRAINTS, A FATHER NEARLY MURDERING HIS CHILD

Ooooooh this story is great too! I love how seamlessly the gendered terms switch, it was instantaneous and effective.

I also had no issue with following this story, and I genuinely think that I would read a full length novel with this concept. I love it! I don’t want to give too much away, but I also quite enjoyed that the POV character found angels, which had been described as horrific and terrifying to him earlier, beautiful Again, I am a sucker for finding beauty in the monstrous and this story did just that!

★★★★★

Pieces - Emily Hoffman

TW: GORE

Oh goodness this is the story with an uncomfy name in it for me. This will be fun!

Oh boy this story has it all! My legal name, Costco, the butchering of human bodies, Ken Dolls, a character who was judged for wanting to go into the arts and chose science instead, body modification, religious trauma, gosh it’s like I was written into this story.

Needless to say, I quite enjoyed it! The existential horror and question of faith is written so well, I could practically feel it!

★★★★★

Paradises - Rafael Nicolás

TW: GRAPHIC SEX, REFERENCED ABUSE

I have to compose myself for this, this is the short story that made me want to read Devout and become an ARC reader. I have to compose myself.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Okay, okay I can do this. This story is stunning, beautiful, amazing. It feels like love, it feels like finding your home in someone else. It feels like what Gabriel is experiencing.

I was expecting the sex to be much more graphic than it was, like I was ready for a full cock and balls but we didn’t get that. It def wasn’t like fade to black, but it wasn’t graphic. I could feasibly have my mother read this (i won’t) and not be uncomfy.

I just, I love it, this story is one of love and doing what you need to do for yourself. I’m so glad that Gabriel found his home with Tlāloc, I’m so happy.

★★★★★

I am planning on writing little things like this every time I read a book just to help me keep track of them. If I don’t write down my opinions and thoughts right away I am liable to forget them. I am hesitant to call these a review because i’m really just not comfy with that lol I will do my best to make sure I appropriately tag and warn about topics. If I miss any please let me know!

#andi reads #book reviews #booklr #bookblr #lgbt books #queer books #queer book directory #Devout: An Anthology of Angels #quinton li #rafael nicolás #morgan dante #freydís moon #tyler battaglia

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