#probably because i've been wanting to get this out for several weeks now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inbabylontheywept · 4 months ago

Text

The Motherfucking Lizard King

No one at work trusts my boss.

He's smart. He works hard. He's not trustworthy. He hasn't actually fucked anyone at work over, but he's ruined his last two marriages with affairs, and got dumped by his third fiance when he wouldn't sign a prenup. The fact that we all know this is just a hazard of working in a small town.

Anyway: The thought process of the people in the lab is that if he screwed over his first wife, and his second wife, and was probably planning on screwing over his third wife, it would be insane for him not to screw us over. After all, what kind of idiot treats their employees better than their spouse?

I dunno. His kind, I guess? He's had a few chances to fuck us over, and he hasn't taken them. Opposite really. When our parent company was doing furloughs, he stayed in the office almost a hundred hours, talking and talking and talking his way up the corporate ladder. And in the end, no one at our site got furloughed.

He's pulled strings like that before. And it baffles me, right? Because it really does make zero sense. He'll move the heavens and the earth for us, but his wife and kids are afterthoughts. It feels like any moment, he's going to look into the mirror and realize how stupid that is. It feels like I'm betting on him making the same stupid mistake again, and again, and again - like it would be less cynical to believe he was, eventually, going to stab me in the back. But he hasn't yet, and as far as I can tell he's been making that mistake for close to fifteen years, and it's already cost him everything it can. If he was going to learn, he would have by now.

So my position on him is that if he wanted to date someone I cared about, I'd warn them off. I don't trust him there. But I tentatively trust him to be my boss. Maybe one day he'll stick the knife in and twist, and everyone will say Ah, Babs, we warned you, but for now, I accept that he's doing a very predictable, very irrational thing, and I've made my peace with it.

---

My job has glue traps.

No one likes the glue traps, but we don't have a lot of options. Poison's banned by state law, spring traps are banned by company safety, and several non-lethal options tried in the past failed to work. The mouse problem can get pretty bad if it's ignored, and there's some real health hazards in that. Our site has never had a positive hantavirus test, thank God, but the big base about a half hour away has. That guy's gonna be on oxygen the rest of his life.

If a mouse gets caught, we just euthanize it. But more than mice get stuck. Lizards can wander into those traps too, and the people working there have different feelings about the lizards. They don't pose nearly the same kind of risk mice do. They're chill little guys, and they keep the moths away, and they're just

You know. They're friendly. There's something to be said about walking into a room, and hitting the light switch, and seeing two little guys on the wall start to do pushups as soon as they see you.

People used to just euthanize the lizards too, but I had pet leopard geckos as a kid and I couldn't take that so I wound up googling how to free animals from glue traps. Now, when a lizard gets stuck in a trap - which happens once or twice a week - I get some vegetable oil from the breakroom, and a little plastic fork, and I'll spend fifteen to twenty minutes just kind of gently prying the little guys out.

I have a team of technicians that help me operate one of the larger machines. They're real blue collar guys, ex-airforce, and they make me look like a little kid. Being an engineer means they'll look to me as a leader sometimes, which is a wild experience. And I started helping the lizards for my own conscience, but one of the crazier consequences of it has been that it seriously boosted my leadership cred. Because those guys see me, and they go: Hey. If he's willing to fight for a lizard, he's gotta be willing to fight for me.

I cannot overstate how nice that is. Most engineers that want to make a change to a maintenance practice, or try an upgrade, they have to work their asses off to get the techs to buy in. But I can just ask. They already trust me to do good. They know I'm new, and they know I'm not the smartest engineer in the building, but they also know I'm the one who gets lizards out of the glue traps.

And just because of that, they're willing to follow me.

---

My boss has a meeting every month or two. It's typically basic house cleaning stuff - reminders about routines we've gotten lazy on, and updates on future projects. Maybe some warnings about problems coming from higher up in the company.

People are, in my opinion, a bit too cynical about the meetings. It stems from people not trusting our boss, which again, I understand, because it would make so much more sense if he wasn't trustworthy. It's a testament to the man's incredibly unhealthy priorities that he is. But as we made it to the end of the meeting, one of bullet points was:

Do NOT mess with animals in the building.

So I looked at my techs, and they looked at me, and when he got to the point, he was so scathing I actually just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. He said basically that he'd heard some reports about someone in the building handling animals that found their way in and got stuck, and that he just wanted to emphasize how insanely inappropriate that was, not to mention dangerous, and that if he needed to speak to anyone about it again, there would be severe consequences.

I was willing to just take the shame and move on. I was. But one of my techs is old. Old enough he could've retired two years ago. And his actual literal goal is to one day get angry, yell at someone, and storm out. That's how he wants to retire. So instead of biting his tongue like everyone else, he stood up and said: I hate the glue traps. You hate the glue traps. We all hate glue traps. But we've all sat here for years, ignoring the little things that get stuck in them, watching them die, and then Bab's comes in, and he is the first person in decades to give enough of a shit to start pulling the lizards out. And I don't want him to stop.

Get humane traps or shut up but we are not going back to the old way of just letting things starve.

And my boss actually froze up. He got all wide eyed and stared at Marc, and then the other techs jumped in, and there was a very small but intense rebellion in the meeting and my boss kept trying to interrupt while getting absolutely bowled over by this gang of angry middle aged air force vets, and eventually he just went

I will speak with Babylon about this afterwards! After! And then he will speak with everyone else, but I have more points to cover.

So they went silent, and my boss rushed through the last five minutes, and we all adjounred. The techs really didn't like that I was going in alone - they thought our boss was going to try and shout me into compliance. Marc in particular was like, Look, if he tries bullying you, stand your ground, and if he threatens anything, just come get us, and we'll give him hell.

So armed with that, I went to my boss's office. I sat in the chair across from him, and he kept his composure for maybe five seconds before just flopping back into his chair.

I had no idea you were saving lizards, he said, but I'm glad you are. I always hated seeing them die in the glue.

I wasn't expecting that. I was about to ask him what the comment from the meeting was about then, but he answered that before I even got the chance.

A snake got into the building last week, and - someone picked it up and chased a coworker around. Turns out that coworker was severely afraid of snakes, and now it's a shitshow. We're a small site, and now I can't ask those two to work together anymore, to say nothing about how the snake fared after all that. Being upset about that is a reasonable thing, right?

And he gave me a look like he actually wanted an answer, so I said Yeah, totally, chasing a coworker around with a snake is a dick move. Especially if that coworker is already afraid of snakes.

And he said Exactly! and then we sat there a few moments longer. He looked so incredibly tired that I did, actually, feel kind of bad for him. And then he somehow managed to sink even further into his chair, and said

Look, I know I'm not a good guy. But I'm not evil. I'm not some sort of crazy asshole that's going to demand that everyone watch lizards starve to death. When you go back downstairs, could you try to pass that on? That I'm not evil?

I said Sure because it wasn't a hard request, and he looked relieved. I actually made it halfway out before I realized I had a question.

Who grabbed the snake? I asked.

Not supposed to talk about it, he said. But whoever comes to mind first is probably right.

ThatGuy? I asked. And he looked me in the face, nodded his head yes, and said No.

---

The techs seemed a little disappointed that they didn't get to storm the boss's office, but were otherwise in good spirits. They were actually a little bit embarrassed to hear about the snake story - apparently, it wasn't much of a secret. It'd just slipped their minds because it happened three weeks ago.

We did maintenance after that, the same basic repairs we did every week. The meeting had been stressful and it was a relief to work with my hands. When the parts were reinstalled, everything cleaned and smooth and ready to go, Marc found me again.

You know what the lesson of today is? he asked. And there were quite a few answers to that that I could have taken - from don't assume the worst of people to be careful with how you spend your trust - we all need it more than we think.

But instead I said what? because I wanted to hear what his answer was going to be.

That I got your back, he said. Then he clapped one very, very large hand on my shoulder, gave it a good squeeze, and walked back to dosimetry lab.

---

The next day, Marc gave me a package and told me to open it in my office. I was suspicious, but I followed the request.

Cardboard gave way to a small baggie, obviously full of fabric, which opened to reveal a t-shirt that read

"I Am the Motherfucking Lizard King."

I looked at it, I loved it, and then I got an idea. I went to my boss's office and knocked on the door. When he opened it, I asked him if he would be willing to allow something very unprofessional to happen for morale building purposes.

How unprofessional? he asked. I held the shirt up in answer. He gave the shirt a short look over and snorted.

You can wear it on weeks without customers, he said. Which just so happened to include that week.

I'll pass on that it came with your blessing, I replied, and he looked oddly relieved.

Thanks, he said. And then I went downstairs.

---

The techs were very, very happy to see the shirt. And while my boss's reputation remains in tatters, and probably will be until he moves (or dies), the next time there was a meeting, there was quite a bit less complaining about how mere presence. Which is, I guess, a start.

We'll see if he squanders it.

12K notes · View notes

indecisiveshadowthing · 1 month ago

Text

Note game but with goals I want to hit by the end of 2025. but knowing how I am, I probably won't without some kind of outside motivation.

And we are starting at 30 because I've seen how these things go for some xdd

30: I'll try to eat more regularly during the day

40: I'll try to drink more water untill I eventually start drinking enough daily

60: I'll start painting again

100: I'll be more active instead of bed rotting all day (I haven't been in bed nearly as much)

200: I'll exercise at least once a week

300: I'll try to be more social and make new friends online and in person. (I MADE 2 NEW FRIENDS)

400: I'll learn a new skill

500: I'll start being more open about how I feel

1000: I'll learn how to cook

1500: I'll learn how to love myself and live for me rather than live because I can't stand the thought of people being sad.

2000: I'll start dressing how I want instead of how I was raised too.

4000: I won't let the fear of my homophobic family finding out I'm Pansexual stop me from dating.

5000: I'll tell my family I want to leave the religion I was raised in.

From now until November (because of holiday rush) I'll check the notes and complete or start goals as soon as I can.

Let's limit this to 5 notes per blog I guess and I'm tagging some people just so I can say I tried when the last several goals aren't reached.

if this goes well then maybe I'll do it next year too xd

@wisegirl42 @madambumblebeethe2nd

Update: WHY IS THIS GETTING SO MANY NOTES?!?! I mean, Thanks but why???? xdd

anyways. Reached, in progress, complete.

Update update: I guess I need to be open about how I feel now- lets start now. IM FEELING CONFUSED. I THOUGHT THIS WOULD GET LIKE 50 NOTES AND THATS IT

#note game #note goals #i dont fucking know #i doubt anyone will see this #i doubt anyone cares #have at it

512 notes · View notes

scribescrawls · 2 months ago

Text

On a more silly note, imagine the High Guard after the whole killing Sentinel thing happened/banishment and a few weeks later call a meeting with Optimus and they go “hey so I know we’re at odds at the moment but are we ever going to get payed for the last 50 cycles?” cause I mean technically I don’t think they were ever officially fired so much as declared dead to the general public and secretly being hunted down during that time. Do they go up to Optimus and are just like “so I get that we don’t really work here anymore but like can we still get our severance pay and our backlog of paychecks?” Cause I’m pretty sure since they were military the government was paying them before the whole Sentinel betrayal thing and any funds any of them had has probably been seized by the state (aka Sentinel during that time) or frozen sitting somewhere in account of being presumed dead. Does Megatron not want to have this meeting but the entire High Guard are grumpy about it like "no I want to get payed! I want my stuff/money back!" so now he has to sit across from Optimus in the most awkward meeting after their fall out as Starscream shouts across the table negotiating if they still qualify/are entitled for the Cybertronian equivalent of military/veteran pension for their previous cycles of service.

Cybertronian Civil War on hold due to the nightmare of bureaucracy and paperwork because tracking down at minimum 73 different case files of each High Guard member and getting them all in order when probably half of the information was purposely destroyed by Sentinel means it will probably take a while. How many times has Shockwave and the rest of the High Guard have to sign documents to declare "yes I am alive" "no I did not fake my death to commit tax fraud". Or dealing with banks and other organizations going "please provide proof that you are indeed Starscream." Starscream going "I'm literally Starscream and standing in front of you what other proof is more clear! You are literally looking at a photo of me on the datapad!" "Apologies, but unless you have x, y, z document I am afraid we cannot simply take your word that you are Starscream. If you are missing these documents please fill out these thirty forms as alternative verification of identity". Also imagining Thundercracker going "hey do you think my buy five get one free drink stamp card still works. I've been sitting on that free drink for 50 cycles…"

Funniest thing if Shockwave was a senator before joining the High Guard and there was a small period of time where he actually was declared dead before it got cleared up back in the day when the Primes were still alive, but now they can't find the paperwork that cleared up that it was an error and he was still in fact alive so now he's been declared doubly dead.

Shockwave: It's document 37C!

Elita: Repeating it for the fifth time will not change the fact that it does not exist!

Shockwave, done with being declared dead: It exists! It's added every time my taxes get filed each cycle! Did I suddenly imagine the last thousands of cycles of my life!

Elita, losing her own temper: There is no document 37C! Listen here Blinky, I can easily resolve this matter by getting you declared dead for a third time for real!

Optimus stressed and trying not to cry: Maybe we should call for a break in the meeting...

When the break is over no one can find Optimus who has decided to play hooky from his responsibilities because he'd tired and feels like he's going to lose it dealing with all the sudden responsibilities of being leader of an entire planet. I like the idea that it's Megatron who finds him. Megatron going "if I have to suffer through these meetings so do you" (he was secretly also ditching the meeting and accidentally bumped into Optimus because the place is technically their old spot that they sometimes went together, both thought it would be abandoned and no one would find them there). It's awkward, there are hurt feelings on both sides, but maybe they slowly get to talking and at least commiserate how much they hate paperwork. Also funny if they find out they both also have to resolve their own "declared dead by Sentinel" paperwork considering he said they both died after the Iacon 5000 lol.

Also I think it would be funny if these meetings drag on for so long that Optimus is just like instead of commuting back and forth from the surface to Iacon every day just stay here in the city it will save time. Banishment temporarily rescinded. Even more funny if they also have to deal with the Quintessons so half of these meeting turn into war meetings to deal with and fight the Quintessons off their planet where both sides are like "we're not on the same side!", but also eventually have to work together to win. So it's basically an officially we're not on the same side, but all actions say otherwise lol. I like to think Bee likes to hangout with Soundwave during meetings and finds him so cool, and Soundwave actually likes listening to Bee yap finding him endearing.

They eventually realize that it would be easier (and less paperwork) to just reinstate the High Guard and at this point so much time has passed that they've basically been doing their old job anyway as they fight the Quintessons together. Banishment permanently rescinded for all parties involved. I like to think megop over the course of these meetings and fighting together against the Quintessons make up. Things can't go back to the exact way it was between them, but that doesn't mean they can't rebuild something new between them. I like to think both groups have differing ideas of how to lead and how to deal with situations, but I like to think eventually they get to a point where they can compromise and work with differing ideas depending on what's best for the situation at hand similar to the 13 Primes who probably had conflicting and contrasting personalities and approaches but were able to use these differences to work together and make them stronger as a united front.

Cybertronian Civil War avoided through the sheer slog of paperwork and bureaucracy.

378 notes · View notes

call-me-strega · 2 years ago

Text

Dc x Dp prompt #1: Angel

I'd like to preface this by saying I'm incorporating tropes I've seen in other posts.

~~~

Jason has been a lot happier recently. His Pit Rage has been getting less and less frequent, he's cooking and coming over to the manor a lot more, and he even let Dick hug him last week without threatening bodily harm!

The rest of the batfam, while happy for him, are curious about the change. So one night at dinner they ask him what's up with him and why he's so happy recently. Surprisingly, instead of taking it the wrong way and getting mad Jason is eager to share.

Apparently, Jason has a boyfriend now. Yay!

He goes on and on about this civilian he met after stoping a cult who was trying to summon a deity and how he is this nerdy college kid who really likes space and how their civilian identies shared the same Gen Ed course so he made an effort to become friends. Turns out that nerdy space guy had caused the initial improvement in mood and his offer to go on a date to an incredibly diverse and well-stocked library had been the cherry on top.

The only thing is that Jason didn't want them stalking the guy and refered to him around the family exclusively as "Angel". Everyone thinks that's just a cute pet name he gave the guy as a way to both reference and distract the civilian from the cult ritual he was probably rescued from. Little do they know that it's actually because "Angel" was not a victim of the cult ritual but the summonee, that appeared in the form of a biblically accurate angel.

One day some supernatural entity decideds to attack Gotham and everyone is calling whoever they can think of for back-up. Batman calls Constantine, Nightwing calls Zatana, Red Robin and Robin are contacting the Justice League, and even Red Hood seems to call someone.

The situation is getting desperate. The JL is here but at most the can just slow the supernatural being down. Constantine and Zatana are still 20 minutes out and things are looking bad when another Eldritch Being spawns and seems to take down the threat in one move.

Everyone stands stunned as the being turns to them and in a booming voice exclaims "DON'T BE AFRAID. I WAS CALLED TO HELP". They all go through several emotions upon hearing those words. Where did this being come from? Is this a biblically accurate angel? Who called it here to help? Was it Zatana or maybe Constantine? Are they here yet? Upon looking around it is found that Zatana and Constantine are not here yet and the heroes get ready to engage this being carefully when a voice calls out

"Angel!"

Everyone whips their heads around to see Jason climbing over debris towards the Eldritch Being in front of them. The Batfam feels faint with a creeping realization and Superman swears he heard Batman's heart skip a beat for a second. Before anyone can ask Jason what he's doing the being shapeshifts into the much smaller form of a young fae-like creature with pointed ears, fangs, stark white hair, and vibrant green eyes floating in the air. He flys over to Jason before a flash of bright light leaves a young man deep black hair and frosty blue eyes in Jason's arms.

Jason turns to introduce his boyfriend to his family and the League only to find that Batman has fainted, a panicking JL, and a gobsmacked Zatana and Constantine have who've arrived in time to see the transformation. As Zatana and Constantine begin to freak out and prepare defensive magic Batman comes to and levels a scowl at Jason.

"Hood, I think you have some explaining to do."

#dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #dc universe #danny phantom #danny fenton #batfamily #batfam #batman #red hood #jason todd #the justice league #john constantine #zatanna #dead on main #danny x jason #dp x dc #Strega’s dc x dp prompt

5K notes · View notes

alastor-x-reader-stories · 5 months ago

Text

"Bite Me" - Alastor x Reader - Part 2

You....really shouldn't have bitten Alastor.

It was a threat, yep, and the guy did need to learn his actions had consequences, but...er. Was that really worth this?

The Radio Demon had practically been your shadow for the past week. His expression never changed, his tone never shifted. You were like, 90 percent sure he was thinking of the best way to kill you for maximum pain.

Pain wasn't good. You were allergic to it.

...That line usually got a chuckle out of whoever heard it, or in your case, whenever you thought it. However, this time, it didn't quite tickle your funny bone as it usually did.

Because Alastor was standing right there.

And staring at you.

In your goddam bedroom.

"....Hi." You said, chewing on your bottom lip.

Alastor's gaze darted for a second to your lip, then back to your eyes. And he said nothing.

"...Did you need something?" You said.

He continued to stare at you, unblinking.

You sighed "Listen, if you're going to kill me can you just hurry up already? I'm sure it beats how awkward this is."

Other than the slightest twitch of an ear, he still didn't respond.

You huffed, narrowing your eyes as a growl permeated through the air. "At least say something!"

He didn't.

"OKay, fine!" You snapped, throwing your hands up in the air. You crossed them over your chest with a pout, giving Alastor a mean side-eye. "Keep standing there doing nothing. I guess I could use a new hat rack anyway."

"...You don't have any hats?" He said, tilting his head to one side.

"I'll get some so I can justify having a hat rack." You said, tail flicking.

"Mhm... So, how sincere is this threat?"

"What?"

Alastor straightened his posture, taking a couple long strides to stand right at your bedside. "You make a lot of threats, my dear. And I've only ever seen you carry 1 out."

"Usually people listen to me." You said, rolling your eyes.

"So you've never actually follow through before?" He tilted his head to the opposite side than before. His grin seemed to stretched a bit, ears becoming less stiff.

"Does that make you happy?" You said, turning to face him "That you're the first idiot who made me actually do something?"

From how he practically beamed you can only assume it did. You sighed, flopping down onto the bed on your side. The intent was to ignore him until he got bored and went away or got sick of you and killed you.

Instead you found a shadowy tendril wrapping around your middle, rolling you onto your back. Alastor grinned down at you, his body a perfect 90-degree angle bent at the waist.

"I'm the first one you've bit?"

"...Yeah?" You said, raising an eyebrow. "I mean. I think I bit people when I was little and pretending I had rabies, but not really intending to hurt them..."

His grin widened. "How did I taste?"

...

"What."

"I want to know. How did I taste?"

Oh right he was a cannibal. You grimaced internally. Was that just something cannibals got giddy about? 'Hey I'm the first person you've eaten hurrah!'

The tendril around you gave a firm squeeze. You sighed and met Alastor's crimson eyes, giving him a flat look of your own.

"Dry and tough- like badly made jerky."

He laughed. "Well, of course! You bit into my jacket! Silly creature, you."

"....Well, you asked."

"That I did, that I did." Alastor hummed. He tilted his head too far to one side, leaning in closer to you "Would you care for a taste without my jacket?"

"No." You responded curtly.

The silence was palpable. Neither of you broke eye contact or changed your expressions for several moments. Those moments seemed very, very long.

His eye slowly twitched up and his ears dropped ever-so-slighty-

"Hm. Well, it's not like you'd manage that anyway."

"Probably not. Are we done?"

Another beat of silence passed before the shadows tendril dissolved into mist and Alastor was standing up straight again.

"Now, I wouldn't say this matter is done, but I suppose it could wait."

You sat up, staring at him. The more you stared, the more his eyes couldn't seem to decide on what to focus on. Was he...nervous?

That encounter didn't go anywhere else significant. He simply said a farewell and left you to your own devices.

===========

Your eye twitched as you took a long, deep breath.

Alastor was being so horribly, horribly annoying.

The last couple days he resumed his role as your shadow, but this time solely with the task of irritating you. He'd chew loudly, he'd step in an off-rhythm on purpose, he'd claw the surface of things you couldn't stand the sound of and it made your ears hurt and your jaw ache from how much you were grinding your teeth.

You had enough.

"Will you LEAVE ME ALONE!?" You snapped at him. He didn't so much as flinch, simply tilting his head and he leaned closer to you.

"Or what?"

"I'm going to shove your hooves so far up your ass you'll be coughing up horseshoes for a week-"

"I'm a deer, not a horse." He said, eyes crinkling up in amusement at your 'threat'.

You hissed out an agitated breath before taking a couple deep, long breaths and you felt your jaw lax (a little) and your temper die down a bit.

"...Yeah, you're right." You said after a moment "And I'm sorry. I didn't really have much of a reason to snap at you like that."

His eyes narrowed and you couldn't be bothered to wonder why. You said a curt goodbye and meandered off, feeling his eyes trained on your retreating form. You couldn't be bother to think about that, either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi it's me the writer. Letting you all know that this is not planned in the slightest and i'm just winging it. No smut will happen EVER though because I don't wanna write it. So kindly look elsewhere if that's what you want. I will put a poll here though with considerations for potential next installment

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

777 notes · View notes

forget-you-morelike-fuck-you · 2 years ago

Text

That's What Friends Are For- E.M.

I've been really thirsty for Virgin!Bestfriend!Reader x Eddie so I poured myself this taaaallll drink of water. Hope you love it xx

You've never had an orgasm, and Eddie would be happy to help remedy that.

Part 2

Masterlist

TW- 18+ MINORS DNI!! Cursing, mentions of smoking, heavy petting, pet names (angel, sweetheart), a lil crying (but in a good way), fingering (lmk if I missed any)

Pairings- Virgin!Bestfriend!Reader x Eddie

Word Count- 4,802

(Gifs not mine, credit to owner!)

It wasn’t something that you’d normally ask, but with the haze of weed clouding your senses and the exaggerated moans of the poor actress being exploited for the dumb action movie you and Eddie were watching out of sheer boredom, you couldn’t help yourself. You turn to Eddie, the cogs in your head turning in overtime as the words reach your mouth before you can even put too much stock in them, “What does an orgasm even feel like?” Your eyes narrow as you imagine it, the sounds of the woman on screen echoing in your mind. There’s no way that real people sound like that, no, this is just some stupid movie that you and Eddie had never even heard of before digging it out of the pile of tapes beneath the TV. “I mean, I guess it’s gotta feel good, but does it feel that good?”

While you ponder the probability of the sounds onscreen being at all accurate for real-world scenarios, Eddie’s face pales, the light high he’d been enjoying completely knocked out of his body at your words. Despite being best friends for the past several years, you never really talked about your sex lives with each other. For you, it was because it didn’t exist. For Eddie, it was because the only person he really wanted anymore was you. Every other person in town combined couldn’t interest him half as much as you, and he had definitely looked. Pining after your best friend for years wasn’t really something Eddie was interested in doing, not that it helped. Of course, the only reason you hadn’t made a move—aside from the fact that you were thoroughly terrified at the thought of being rejected—was because you thought that Eddie was something of a ladies’ man. You knew he was much more experienced than you, not that that was a difficult feat, but you knew that he at least went on dates. And you never wanted your attraction to him get in the way of your friendship anyway. If he liked you, he would’ve made a move sooner, right?

Wrong.

Eddie had fallen head over heels for you about a year after you had met, both of you juniors in high school. You went away with your family on vacation for a couple weeks that summer and came back... different. You were more confident, and even though it had only been a short separation, you looked different, more womanly than gangly teenager. He liked you before, but some switch inside his chest flicked, like the lights were finally turning on in some long-forgotten roller coaster ride. He’s had it bad for you ever since, suffering in silence because he knows how shy you used to be, and still are to some extent. He would never, ever want to do or say anything to make you uncomfortable, including putting his feelings on the line in exchange for your amazing friendship.

Still, the news that you didn’t know what an orgasm felt like was surprising. He knew you were private about your dating life, and he always respected that. But you had had boyfriends before. And you were both in your early 20s now. Surely you had been with one of them. Or even figured it out on your own...

“What?” is the brilliant response that flies from Eddie’s lips as his brain short circuits. You look back at his face, having wandered away, lost in thought. Eddie half expects you to backtrack, but still, to his surprise, you double down.

“What does an orgasm feel like?” He can tell your Mary Jane consumption must be fueling this line of questioning, but if you’re really curious...

“Um, well...” Eddie flounders, trying to find the words to say. You keep your focus on him, your thoughts trailing only slightly as you wait for him to respond. “It... It does feel really good. I don’t know exactly what it feels like for women, but for guys, at least, for me, it’s like my whole body kind of explodes, but in, like, the best way,”

You mull this over for a moment, your eyes darting between Eddie’s face and the screen, which has since moved past the over-exaggerated sex scene back into shootouts between the good guy and the bad ones. “Okay, well, have any of the girls you’ve been with ever sounded like that?” You were genuinely curious, trying to imagine what could feel that good and coming up blank.

Eddie chuckles a bit, eyes flicking up in a memory, “Well, one, but I’m pretty sure she was faking. Some women think they have to sound like that because that’s what the movies show them they’re supposed to sound like. But really, there are all different kinds of... sounds... that people make when they’re feeling that good,” he explains, his surprise relaxing now into amusement just slightly.

“Oh,” You look back at the screen, apparently done with your questions. Eddie feels his heartbeat fading back into its normal rhythm after the near heart-attack you had inflicted upon him, and things go quiet for a minute before you turn your head back toward him, mouth poised open to speak. “Do you think—Never mind,” You quickly shove the thought back down your throat, remembering that Eddie’s not supposed to know you’ve been in love with him forever.

The possibilities of what you were about to ask him makes his heart race again, until he’s burning to know. “What is it?” He asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Your lips press together and shake your head as a heat spreads over your face, giving you a moment of clarity amid the warmth of the high. “No, it’s okay, it was a dumb question,” You wave your hand in dismissal, and pray that Eddie doesn’t press it further in fear of your mouth working faster than your logic. Of course, you have no such luck.

“There are no dumb questions. If you want to know something, all you have to do is ask. Would I ever judge you for anything? And really think about that, because I’ve seen you pick a pickle up off the floor and eat it,” He laughs, trying to diffuse the tension. It helps a little, and with his reassurance and that fleeting moment of clarity far away, you open your mouth again, hesitating as you find the right words.

“Do you think... that you could maybe... show me?”

Eddie’s eyes bulge from his skull, and he’s afraid that his heart has totally stopped for a minute. But after an agonizing moment, a thick thump of his heart breathes life back into him, and he can only pray that you can’t hear it as it loudly thump, thump, thumps in his chest.

“Show you..?” It’s a begging question. He’s not exactly sure which part you want to learn, and he wants to make sure he doesn’t assume anything.

You turn away again, the mortification laying over you in a thick blanket. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have... You can forget it,”

Eddie doesn’t want to mess this up, and the visions of you making such pretty little sounds for him, or better yet, unraveling under his touch, automatically send all of the spare blood in his body downward, so quickly that he almost becomes dizzy. He has to make an effort to shift his body to hide his growing erection as he tries to reassure you. “No, no! Don’t worry, I’m listening. It’s okay, I swear! What do you want me to show you? I... I can do my best,” His voice is sincere, sincere enough to make you look sheepishly back at him, your lashes low as you try not to look in his eyes.

You take a deep breath, your head buzzing with adrenaline as you form the words. “Would you show me how to have an orgasm?”

Eddie swallows hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat. He’s trying so hard to make this seem as chill as possible, for both of your sakes. If he gets too eager too quickly, there’s no way he wouldn’t just bust in his pajama pants, and he might scare you. His mouth is dry as he nods quickly, “Um, yeah. I- I can definitely try,” He watches as your face grows redder by the second, but you give a small smile, one that makes Eddie lightheaded again as another shockwave of want shoots through his half-hard cock. “Do you want to go to my room?” He asks softly, gauging the look on your face as you still avoid his eyes.

“Yeah,” You murmur, but your legs won’t move. There’s a want in you, despite not knowing how to indulge it, and as Eddie gets up from the couch, offering a hand to you, you take it and squeeze, finally looking up at him. Eddie feels like he might faint in that moment, your hazy eyes doe-like and innocent, not making it any easier for him to keep calm. He pulls you up to your feet and you follow him, your hand in his, to his room.

You shut the door behind you, flicking the lock on the knob despite being the only ones home, and turn to face Eddie, who stands just behind you, still not believing what might happen. “S-so, um...” He begins, feet shuffling beneath him. “For girls, it’s a lot harder to... finish. It takes a lot of warming up first,” Your brow furrows.

“Warming up?” A blush breaks out over Eddie’s cheeks, and he reaches out to let his fingers trace up your arm, ghosting over your shoulder and up your neck. A breath hitches in your throat as his palm cups your face, and suddenly, you think you might know what he means. Nevertheless, he explains.

“It’s a lot easier when you’re feeling good from other things first. Like touching, kissing... things like that. It can be painful if you don’t do it right,” Your lashes flutter as he leans in slightly, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face.

“Oh,” Eddie lets out a breath of a laugh at your breathless response, and already you feel yourself turning to putty in his hands.

“I want you to tell me if you don’t like something, okay? Don’t try to spare my feelings. If you want me to stop doing something, or you want me to do something specific, you tell me. Okay?” The demanding edge in his whispers snaps you back to reality, and you feel a warmth building deep within you. It’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Sure, shadows of this have been felt watching risqué movies with sex scenes or kissing your prior boyfriends awkwardly in the backs of their cars, but that pales in comparison. This is a new, deep burn in the very depths of your body.

“Mhmm,” You try to lean closer to him, to feel more, but his other hand goes to your waist, holding you in place. Your eyes meet his, and they’re unexpectedly hard, his brown eyes serious as he looks at you.

“I need you to say it. I need to know you can say it,” Your breath stutters again at his words, but still, you find your voice.

“I- I don’t like that,” You whisper, and it’s all you can do. Eddie nods in approval, but his eyes want you to continue, “I want you... I want you to kiss me,” You can hear the hammer of your heart in your ears, your blood singing as the anticipation grows. Eddie’s eyes return to their normal softness, gazing into yours like he’s seeing the sun set over the ocean for the first time.

“Are you sure?” Eddie whispers as he inches toward you, his face leaning down ever closer. This might be the closest you’ve ever been to him, and the thought sends a delicious shiver up your spine. His nose just brushes yours, and your eyes flutter shut.

“I want you to kiss me, Eddie,” It’s barely a breath, but he hears you, and gently, gently, his lips meet yours, barely a brush of skin against skin. You hear him suck in a deep breath before letting his lips move against yours a little more firmly, the hand on your waist snaking around your back to pull you closer to him. You let your hands find the back of his hair, which is up in a cute, messy bun, and your fingers wind themselves around a few loose, curly tendrils there. Then, Eddie’s lips move across your cheek, down toward your jaw, and the first sound comes loose from your lips.

It’s a tiny noise, but it might as well have been Eddie’s favorite song, the way he revels in it. He can feel the pounding of your heart in your chest as you press yourself against him, not really knowing what to do other than let Eddie work his way down your neck with his lips. “E-Eddie...” You whimper, hands gently grasping at the fabric at the back of his worn t-shirt.

Eddie stops then, immediately, waiting for your instruction. He had gone too far, hadn’t he? He had done something to make you uncomfortable and now you’d never ever talk to him again... “Can we lay down?” You ask, breathy and quiet in his ear. He presses a firm kiss to the top of your shoulder in relief, elated that you were enjoying what was happening before pulling away.

“Yeah, let’s get you comfy,” He smiles one of those easy, lopsided smiles that takes your breath away, and you feel the butterflies that usually reside in your stomach move downward to your core. You instinctively clench your thighs together to try to squash the foreign feeling, but as Eddie moves to lay down, you see the bulge in his loose pants, and it sends a new swarm flooding your body. With a deep breath, you join Eddie and lay next to him, his face only inches from yours. His hand reaches toward your face, gently brushing a few stray hairs behind your ear. “Do you want to just keep kissing, or are you ready to try something else?” He asks. You think it over, biting the inside of your lip as you bite back the embarrassment of being so inexperienced next to him.

“Can we try something new and still do some kissing?” You smile sheepishly, not being able to hold his gaze as your face heats. He lets out a small laugh, not at you, but because you’re so nervous.

“Yeah, we can do that. Is it okay if I touch you? I can just try a few things and you can figure out what you like,” He suggests, his eyes roaming over you. You’re not wearing a bra, because you never did when you and Eddie were just lounging around watching movies and smoking, something Eddie had to get used to quick when your body started really developing. Once or twice when he was a few years younger, he had to fake an upset stomach just to relieve his aching cock in the bathroom upon seeing your pert nipples through the fabric of one of his old t-shirts.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” With your permission, Eddie’s fingers gently reach the hem of your shirt, slipping under and running his calloused fingertips over the smooth skin of your side. You let out a gasp, your eyes screwing shut, and he notices the way your hips move of their own accord, trying to scratch an itch you’ve never felt before. He has to bite back a moan of his own just at the sight of you, so beautiful, so willing beneath his capable hands. He lets out a shaky breath as his hand moves up your side, leaning in to kiss you like he said he would, like he was aching to do again, and you accept his lips greedily, your hands pressing into the sides of his face as he glides across your skin, not light enough to tickle, but enough to send tingles over your skin, goosebumps forming in the wake of his caress.

When his hand comes to cup your breast, not daring to flick over the sensitive nub just yet, you let out your second noise as he gives a little squeeze there. This one is muffled by his lips, pressed firmly to yours, and the vibration of it shoots straight down to his cock, which twitches willfully in his pants, wanting you more and more every second that passes.

With a light touch, Eddie lets his thumb just brush your nipple, and it sends an electric shock through you, leading to your third noise, a much sharper sound that almost sounds painful. But when your lips press into his even harder, Eddie is only spurred on and he does it again, then lets his full hand grope over the full mound, rubbing across your breast with his palm. Eddie lets his tongue trace over your bottom lip then, and you open your mouth to him, not really knowing how to kiss with tongue, but unwilling to stop to make a comment about it as your body ignites to a new level of fire and electricity.

Your legs are continuously rubbing together now, the friction glorious but not enough, and you want to feel more. You’re panting in between the long stretches of kissing, and while you don’t want to stop, you also need to tell Eddie what you want. So, instead of rushing back to his kiss, you press your thumb gently to his bottom lip, pupils blown with need. “Can you take my shorts off?” You ask, your confidence building. Eddie nods all too eagerly, and he gets up onto his knees to shift town toward your bottom half. You roll onto your back and lift your butt to make it a bit easier for him, his hands finding purchase at your hips, fingers dipping just below the waistband when he stops.

“Do you want me to take your underwear off too?” He asks, wanting to be sure. You bite your lip again as the embarrassment floods back.

“I’m not wearing any...” You admit, giving a small smile. His hands grip at your hips a bit harder then, and his sharp breath only helps your growing need. This is the most beautiful you’ve ever seen him, towering over you like this. You can see the long outline of his length through his pants now, and you let your mind wonder what could happen if this goes even further than you originally intended. It’s enough to make your hips roll in Eddie’s hands as he starts pulling down your sleep shorts. You close your eyes, trying to keep your embarrassment from making you chicken out when you’re finally about to get what you’ve always wanted.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes, and your eyes shoot open as you stare at him, mortification building in your chest.

“What? Is it bad? Do I look weird?” You ask in a flurry. Your hands go to cover your face, thighs clenching together to spare yourself when Eddie pries your legs apart again.

“What? God no! You look... You look fucking amazing,” There’s a wonder in his voice, and you peek through your fingers to find him staring down at you, the look on his face amorous, hungry almost, like you’re his favorite meal in the world. It takes you aback, but nevertheless, there’s a twitch in your hips again, seeking a friction that you can no longer achieve for the time being. Eddie gently lowers himself on top of you, and you let out a moan when you feel the fabric of his pants brushing over your bare pussy. You let your hands fall as you try to push yourself into him, but there’s a hand holding onto your hip now to keep you down. “Oh my god, please, can you try not to do that right now? I am already in serious danger here, angel. If I feel even a little bit of you against my dick I’m fucking done for,” Eddie breathes a laugh to cover the moan in his voice, his face hovering over yours.

“B-but I want—” Eddie cuts you off with a deep kiss, his hand squeezing into your hip as you desperately try to feel him against you again.

“Not tonight, sweetheart. I want this one to be about you, okay? If you still want to in the morning, we can circle back,” Eddie offers, and you give a small nod. “Okay, then. I’m gonna touch you now, okay? I’ll go nice and slow. If you want me to change what I’m doing, just tell me,” You nod again and the hand gripping your hip travels down and his lips meet the hollow of your neck, giving just a tiny nip at the skin that sends your hips up again in need. Eddie tries to hold it in, but he can’t help but moan softly against your skin as he continues his journey.

His fingers ghost just over the sensitive bud of nerves then, and the shock that goes through your body is even more intense than before when he was playing with your nipple. Your arms fling around his back and you grip the fabric of his t-shirt like a lifeline. “I’m gonna take good care of you,” Eddie whispers as he travels up your neck, “I’m gonna make you feel so good,”

The promise is punctuated by a soft circle around your clit, and your whimper is so pathetic it startles you as it tumbles from your lips. You can feel how wet you are now; how hot your core is against his fingertips. It’s so blissful, so wanton that you feel your walls clenching around nothing, another new feeling that sends your head reeling. Eddie continues his gentle pattern around your bud, sucking sweet bruises into the skin below your ear between whispers of sweet nothing that spur you forward on your quest into the unknown world of this beautiful feeling.

“E-Eddie,” You plead, head thrown back in pleasure. Your fingers pull his shirt so that your hands connect with his skin, “Can you go—Can you go a little f-faster, please?” Eddie nods into the crook of your neck as he complies, fingers moving just a bit faster, a bit firmer against you, and your chest starts heaving in pants again, moans spilling from your mouth more freely now. You grind into his hand pathetically as the intense pleasure grows. You feel like you could cry at the feeling, so blissful and beautiful and everything you’ve ever dreamed of as Eddie works you further and further, his lips only ever leaving your skin to whisper sweet nothings to you.

“You’re doing so good... I can’t believe I get to do this for you... Been wanting you like this for so long...” Eddie nips and sucks and licks across your neck, up your face, across your lips, and you’re just so consumed by him that you feel hot little pinpricks in the corners of your eyes, your throat going thick as the tears begin.

When Eddie catches sight of the first one, he slows his work on your core, afraid that you had changed your mind. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” You feel a pang of panic then, not really knowing why but knowing that you were desperate to reach the edge you were approaching. You pull at his shirt, not being able to verbalize your excruciating need for a second.

“No, no!” You plead, “Don’t stop, please... I just... Please don’t stop...” You don’t know why you’re crying. Maybe because it feels so good, maybe because the emotions are just so new that your body is startled by them. Either way, Eddie is reluctant but believes you, because he trusts you and you trust him so completely that you don’t think that there’s any way that either of you would or even could hurt each other.

Eddie picks up the pace again, his lips focusing on yours now to help keep you from crying. Your fingernails scratch up his back as you whine and writhe beneath him, coming closer and closer to something. There’s a tenseness in your stomach now, and it’s building. There must be a precipice close, a pinnacle to all of this pleasure and need Eddie has been giving you. Your panting breaths become more ragged, and Eddie gets the feeling that you’re close.

“That’s it, angel. You gonna cum for me?” He practically moans against your mouth, and it’s another agonizing minute of this pressure inside you building before you feel it.

Your hands clench Eddie’s shirt as you unravel. Your tears are flowing freely down your face, mouth open in a loud moan that reverberates on the walls of Eddie’s small room. Eddie keeps drawing circles over your clit as you ride through the waves of your first ever orgasm, kissing down to the top of your chest and back up to add to the pleasure. Finally, you feel it start to subside, the wide waves lessening into ripples as your breath starts to even out again. Eddie slows down again, and finally stops after a few more seconds, wanting to draw out your bliss as much as he can. He kisses you deeply, the hand on your pussy traveling up to grip your side, sliding up past the hem of your shirt as he holds you firm. You can feel the slick on his fingers cooling down on your skin, and it sends a new wave of shivers through your body.

You kiss each other for a long time, not wanting to go back to reality where you’re just friends, but finally you have to pull away for air. You look at each other, both of you quiet. There’s a new electricity in the air, charged with the anticipation of what you’ll say to each other now that everything has changed.

“How was that?” Eddie settles on, his brow set in a concerning furrow. He wants to make sure that you had the best experience he could’ve offered you, because that’s what you deserve. You deserve to feel this good all the time.

Your soft eyes bore into his and you nod slowly, trying to etch every detail of this night into your memory forever. “It was amazing. You are...” Your hand comes to hold his face, and he leans into your touch in such a way that your heart melts for him even more. “You’re so amazing, Eddie, thank you.” You give a little laugh then, at how silly it sounds for you to thank your friend for giving you an orgasm. Eddie laughs a little too, and he stretches his lips to kiss the edge of your palm.

“Anything for my favorite girl,” He whispers, smiling that easy smile that you love so much. Pride sparkles in your chest at his words. God, you love him so much...

“So...” You feel a blush creeping on your face again, “You’ve been wanting me... like this?” You think back to the words he whispered against your neck that made your insides turn to mush.

Eddie flicks his eyes away from you, embarrassed. “You caught that, huh?”

“Was I not supposed to?” You giggle, your smile sending shockwaves through Eddie’s body.

“Well, I just didn’t think you would. You seemed to be pretty distracted if I recall,” He jabs playfully, his gaze returning to you. His eyes soften at his next thought, “What do you think about that?”

This is it, this is where everything changes. It’ll never be the same after this. “I...” You begin, building your courage. “I’ve been wanting that, too.”

Eddie’s face moves through confusion, surprise, and then settles on joy, his smile widening to reach his sparking brown eyes. “Yeah? You’ve been wanting that too?” Your smile matches his as you nod, letting out a breath of a laugh with the relief settling in your chest.

Suddenly, Eddie squeezes you in a bone crushing hug, peppering kisses over your face as you giggle. His lips settle on yours again, and it’s like taking a drink of cool water after wandering in the desert. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to this, but by God, you’d be happy to.

You keep kissing and cuddling for a long time, talking like you usually do, how best friends do, but now it’s just better. Best friends, but there’s no more hesitancy, no more wishing for more, because now, you have everything you could ever want.

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie my beloved

3K notes · View notes

ineffable-romantics · 2 years ago

Text

Some thoughts on why and how I believe Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship would incorporate sex/why I do not read them as wholly asexual:

This is something I've seen the most discourse about in this fandom, and I've had a few thoughts of my own that I really wanted to expand upon in a full meta/character analysis post. I do understand that this can be a contentious topic, so first, let me clarify a few things:

First of all, this is going to be long. Tbh it probably won't be that organized either. I ramble and I'm not very good at editing, so just... you know. Be warned. (*Hi, it's me from 2 days after writing this; I'm really not kidding, it's LONG)

These are all my own thoughts. They might not be hot takes, because recently I've seen more than a few people come to the same conclusions on a lot of these points as I have. But I've also had these notes in my drafts for about a week and a half now, and have been continuously adding to it as things have occurred to me. This post is essentially just somewhere for me to collect the separate but related meta I've been kicking around in my head.

I fully respect anyone who does see and prefer an asexual reading of this relationship. These are my own thoughts and interpretations as someone who is not asexual. I am in the LGBT+ community, so while I do know a few things about the asexuality spectrum, I am by no means an expert.

This is NOT something I expect, need, or even necessarily want the show (or, God forbid, Neil's tumblr ask box) to address. Tonally, it's just not that kind of show. Newt and Anathema's sex scene was very much played for laughs, and it worked for that reason. If the show found a way to address it in a way that was both appropriate for the tone of the show and ultimately satisfying, then great! But there is so much more to this relationship than sex, and I didn't need a kiss to confirm their love, so I certainly don't need a sex scene. As immortal beings (as I assume they'll stay) there is so much of the rest of their lives we'll never get to see. You can headcanon them as asexual and potentially be right. I can headcanon them as not and be equally potentially right. Again, these are just a collection of my own thoughts, because I think the question of sexuality (or lack thereof) is just as interesting a facet of these characters as any other.

Note: Tbh I've been second-guessing this whole post and debated deleting the whole thing several times for being silly or unnecessary, bc I don't want anyone to think that this is the only thing I care about when it comes to this story/characters. But if nothing else, it's inspired me to write in a way that nothing has in a very long time, so I've decided it's worth continuing, if for no other reason than that.

This is going to be a mixed bag of textual reading, subtextual reading, and a full-on reach or two. It's been a while since I've been in an English class, but if my teachers expected me to find a deeper meaning behind blue curtains, you can expect me to read too deeply into the symbolism of a loaded rifle or an ox rib. (This is probably not what my professors had in mind when grading my literary analysis papers but oh well) My point is, if it feels like a reach, I'm as aware of it as you are. I am in no way saying that all (or even any) of my points made were deliberate on the part of Neil or the actors or the writers or the directors. I am no longer the delulu Apple Tree Yard child of my youth, I promise.

If anything said here is in any way offensive or hurtful to anyone in the asexual community, please do not hesitate to message me or comment and let me know exactly what it was. I promise you it is not my intention to do so, and am happy to clarify or outright edit anything that reads that way.

With all that being said, let's talk about why I think Crowley and Aziraphale would absolutely fuck nasty incorporate sex into their relationship.

Note: I am out of practice with essay writing, so I think I'll just go down the bullet points of notes I have been making, and expand on each as best I can

Food

Where better to start than with Aziraphale's introduction to Pleasures Of The Flesh? (Just a heads up, this entire post may feel very Aziraphale-heavy, and with good reason).

This might be the least hot take here. We've all seen the Job minisode. We've all seen That Scene.

Whether this was intentional or not, the symbolism here is off the charts. Eve was tempted by an apple. So why not go a similar route and tempt Aziraphale with another fruit, or cheese, or bread, or literally anything else for his first experience with food? Instead, we go with a huge, glistening slab of fresh meat that he proceeds to absolutely go feral upon, moaning and gasping into his meal while Crowley watches with what definitely doesn't look to be disgust or even satisfaction with a good temptation. There's surprise at the ferocity of Aziraphale's appetite, certainly. But ultimately he looks to be intensely fascinated by it, while the thunder crashes, the music crescendos, and the earth literally shakes around them.

(It's also interesting to note how very little it takes for Crowley to tempt him with the ox rib. One murmured suggestion, a bit of unwavering eye contact, and vavoom Aziraphale immediately meets him in the middle.)

Cut to Aziraphale devouring the rest of the meat with Crowley splayed back on a makeshift bed, drinking wine and continuing to watch him indulge through half-lidded eyes. Outside a thunderstorm rages while they're learning secrets about each other in warm flickering firelight. It's cosy, it's intimate, and if they'd thrown in a bearskin throw blanket, it might as well be a post-coital scene straight out of Game of Thrones.

The next time (chronologically) we see them discuss food is when Aziraphale "tempts" Crowley with oysters in Rome. So Crowley first tempts Aziraphale with meat and then Aziraphale tempts Crowley with what is widely regarded to be an aphrodisiac. Interesting.

And then chronologically after that, the Arrangement begins to form, which has always reeked of a friends with benefits situation. Just to throw that in there.

It's What Humans Do

In the very first episode, we're shown Gabriel's obvious disgust and bewilderment towards Aziraphale eating sushi, calling it "gross matter" and being proud of the fact that he does not sully his body with it. Aziraphale initially tries to defend his own enjoyment in it, before passing it off as something that humans do, as something he simply has to do in order to blend in (which we know very well is not the case).

He does this again in season 2, passing off Nina and Maggie being in love as "something humans do". But it isn't, is it? Angels are beings of love, and can sense it, and understand very well what it is... up to a point. Even romantic love is obviously within their wheelhouse, given what we now know happened between Gabriel and Beelzebub (we'll come back to them).

What the "humans do" that angels wouldn't understand is messy, physical forms of love.

But here's the thing: Aziraphale and Crowley love doing what the humans do. They love drinking, they (or at least Aziraphale) love eating. They love music. Crowley loves driving and sleeping and watching rom-coms and sitcoms. Aziraphale loves reading and doing magic and earning little licenses and certificates for achievement in his various hobbies. They love to playact at being human so much that they've stopped playacting and started building a genuinely human lifestyle for themselves and with each other.

Once together in an unambiguously romantic sense, why do we think they wouldn't also want to explore one of the most prominent, intimate, powerful human expressions of love and desire with each other?

Angels, Demons, & Asexuality

Here's where I really want to clarify that in no way do I mean that sex is necessary for a healthy, fulfilling, and loving romantic relationship, or that the lack of desire for sex makes you any less human. Asexuality is a sexuality as valid and human as any. What I would say is that it is definitely in the human minority compared to allosexuality.

Angels and demons, on the other hand, are predominately asexual. Sexless/genderless unless Making An Effort. (Which, btw, is a concept introduced as early as the original book; why even bring it up as a possibility? Why not keep angels/demons being sexless/asexual as a hard and fast rule, if not to open up the potential for later use? Chekhov's Effort, if you will. And isn't that something that Aziraphale in particular is shown to do time and time again? He makes an effort in French and driving and magic, doesn't he?)

And this is why I don't believe Aziraphale and Crowley necessarily need to be asexual, narratively. There is already a huge amount of ace rep within the angels and demons (and no, not just the horrible ones. Muriel also doesn't "drink the tea" and has no reason or desire thus far to Make An Effort, and there are certainly other angels and demons who aren't horrible like the archangels seem to be who likely wouldn't Make An Effort either).

The central conflict for Aziraphale and Crowley is that they are on their own side, the ones who went native, the ones who are so different in so many ways from their respective hives. It would make sense for them to also break away from traditional angel/demon asexuality.

I say "traditional angel/demon asexuality", because I would also like to note that I would absolutely not rule out demisexuality for either of them. This post is being written to as a response to people who specifically believe that they (like the rest of the angels/demons seem to be) would be sex-averse in a relationship, and that it wouldn't be a factor in their relationship. I could easily read them as demisexual, but I do think there would be no real way of verifying this, because they've never been able to form as close an emotional relationship with anyone else but each other. Certainly not in heaven, and I can't imagine they would be able to form that kind of attachment with any of the humans, who they love and emulate but ultimately regard as the separate species they are. So yes, they could either be allosexual or demisexual, in my opinion.

Then again, now that I think about it, Making An Effort itself could be a great metaphor for demisexuality, since they would be entirely sexless/asexual until they have enough of an emotional connection with someone to consciously manifest otherwise. Since the other angels and demons don't generally form those types of emotional connections with anyone, there hasn't been a precedent for it.

Except...

Brielzebub

We do have a precedent for it now, don't we? Gabriel and Beelzebub fell in love. They are a direct foil for Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, speedrunning right through their courtship and finding their happily ever after on the other side of things.

For being such a 1 to 1 comparison, it feels deliberate that they did not kiss. They held hands, they were gooey with each other, but they did not kiss. That feels like such a deliberate thing to omit when you know what's to come at the end of the episode between Crowley and Aziraphale.

And going back to the food = sex metaphor for a moment, let's notice how even as they fell in love over the years, even when pints and crisps were there on the table in front of them, they never felt the desire to reach out for them. They didn't need to. It's a date (love story) even if you aren't eating dinner (sleeping together).

Yes, I know Jim liked hot chocolate. No, I am not counting it because I don't consider Jim and Gabriel to be the same person with the same proclivities, and Jim was highly suggestible at the time anyway.

Gabriel and Brielzebub's big happily ever after moment (as of now) was one between two asexual supernatural beings. They did not need to kiss to drive the point home. They showed what Crowley and Aziraphale could have, if they would only acknowledge it.

Crowley & Aziraphale's Dissatisfaction

But they do have that already, don't they? If you really think about it, what do Gabriel and Beelzebub do with each other that Crowley and Aziraphale don't already? They hold hands, they spend time together, they create little rituals, they give gifts, they're visibly and verbally affectionate with each other, etc. They are more or less already in a romantic asexual marriage relationship with each other, aren't they?

And it doesn't seem to be enough for either of them.

At the beginning of the season, Crowley is immediately shown to be unsatisfied with the way things are. Obviously part of it comes from living in his car, but it seems to be more than that (especially since Aziraphale makes it clear that the bookshop is just as much Crowley's as his, implying that he could have been living there the whole time and is choosing not to, for some reason?). You could argue he's feeling unmoored without Hell telling him what to do, but isn't that what he wanted? Isn't that what he still wants, by the end of the season? All season long, he's never indicated the desire for a new job, or a new project. He stopped the apocalypse because he wanted the freedom to openly spend time with Aziraphale, to spend his time on Earth however he sees fit. Until Gabriel arrives, he has exactly that (minus a flat).

So where does the dissatisfaction come from? And if it represents anything to do with his relationship, what does he want out of it that he isn't getting already?

I think Crowley only really comes to the realisation of what he's missing when Nina names it for him, not only putting them in the category of romantic, but physical (outright asking if they are sleeping together). These two posts [1], [2] go into more detail about what I mean, but I think it really pushes him into acknowledging that their relationship is more human than either of them have stopped to consider, and what that might mean as far as everything a human relationship can entail.

After all, Nina and Maggie only advised that he should talk to Aziraphale, make clear his feelings. The decision to kiss him, to tip them over the edge from nonphysical to physical, that was all him. And no, kissing isn't sex, but I wonder how taboo even that might be in the kind of all-encompassing asexuality most angels seem to identify with. (If they're disgusted by food and drink, I can only imagine what they think of snogging, much less sex.)

Aziraphale doesn't have this moment of someone observing their relationship from the outside. He loves Crowley, and as of 1941 probably even knows he's in love with him in a way that Crowley doesn't understand yet. Which makes sense, since love is technically his job, he'd be more likely to recognise it for what it is.

However, Aziraphale's reference for romance and relationships is Jane Austen. It's chaste. It's dancing and dinner and doing sweet things for each other and roses and candles and handholding. He contextualises his love for Crowley in that soft fantasy sort of way, where it's there, it's obviously there, but it's neat and easy and unspoken. Not to quote Glee in this, the year of our lord 2023, but it's all very "the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets".

Someone should tell that to Aziraphale's face, then.

I'm not going to pretend I know what Michael Sheen's script notes were, but there were definitely some Choices™ made. Because yes, there were plenty of moments in both seasons with Aziraphale looking at Crowley in a sweet, loving, smitten way. And then there were moments that were yearning.

But yearning for what, exactly? All of those sappy Jane Austen tropes already apply to the two of them. So why are there moments where Aziraphale is looking Crowley up and down like the last eclair in the window and licking his lips and visibly exhaling like he's trying to get in control of himself (see: Bastille scene + Crowley telling Muriel to ask him if they have any other questions about love)? Why is Aziraphale not only unconcerned when Crowley shoves him bodily up against a wall in s1, but staring at his lips and a beat too late in noticing Sister Mary's arrival? Why are some of his lines so suggestive? I'm sorry, but the car ride after the church explosion might as well have been the beginning of a Pizza Man porn with a really weird Blitz theme. If even my mother picked up on that vibe, I can't imagine it wasn't intentional on part of both the dialogue and the delivery.

(This section may feel like more of a reach/joke, but I'm really only 20% joking. These are writers and actors who are EXTREMELY good at their jobs; they know what they were doing here.)

More importantly, I don't think Aziraphale is even aware that there is more to what he wants. He lives in the Jane Austen fantasy and it never even occurs to him that he might be interested in anything further. It never even occurs to him that, as an angel, there is anything further to be interested in in the first place. Until Crowley forces it to occur to him. Just like I believe Nina forced Crowley to confront the idea that romantic love is what he's been feeling all along, I believe Crowley forced Aziraphale to confront the idea that physical intimacy is something he's been wanting, without even realising.

Aziraphale's Hedonism

Expanding on Aziraphale for a moment. We talked about his relationship with food, but we all know that Aziraphale is defined by his love of things that Feel Good.

It isn't just that he and Crowley love human things. Aziraphale loves the best of the best, or at least his version of it. He doesn't just love food, he loves going to fancy restaurants. He doesn't just love clothes, he loves soft, cosy, warm, plush clothes, or shiny, flashy, bougie fashion. He loves the warmth of tea and cocoa, loves getting drunk, and sitting in a comfy chair in the sunlight. He doesn't just experience, he indulges.

Given the emphasis put on things that Aziraphale loves just because they Feel Good, it feels narratively strange to assume that he wouldn't enjoy the feeling of being touched, or that he wouldn't be willing to try it, at least once, with someone he cared very deeply for. And just like the ox rib, I think that once he gets the first taste of things, he would absolutely tip over into complete and utter self-indulgence.

Dancing

I also think that dancing could be construed as a huge metaphor here. After all, we're told flat-out that angels don't Dance. Except one.

I would argue that Aziraphale, in fact, Made An Effort to learn how to Dance. He threw himself into the gavotte with delight (at a Victorian gay club; noted) and worked hard to be good at it. He's chomping at the bit to Dance with Crowley, working up the nerve to ask him with undeniably romantic intent and eagerness. So, angels don't Dance... unless they Make An Effort to do so.

We are told that demons, on the other hand, do Dance, but not well. Makes sense, since they're the ones who would want to encourage a deadly sin like lust, but have as little understanding of human love and physical intimacy as the angels. Crowley, however, is shown to be an excellent dancer at the ball, especially in his compatibility with Aziraphale.

(But Aziraphale WandaVisioned the ball so everyone knew how to dance! Yes, he did. However, the rest of the brainwashing doesn't seem to affect Crowley in any way, and they did actually live through the time period where this sort of dancing was a social norm; I'd be surprised if he never needed to learn. After all, the demons can't spell either, and Crowley is at least functionally literate, as far as we know.)

As of today, it's also been confirmed that when Aziraphale asked Crowley to dance, Crowley replied with "you don't dance." Not "WE don't dance". So going along with the metaphor, Crowley is just now discovering that Dancing is something Aziraphale is interested in at all, much less with him, and not denying that he himself is interested in Dancing. In his defense, I believe he was asleep for a few years while Aziraphale was learning the gavotte, so he wasn't exactly aware of Aziraphale's hot girl summer.

Love Languages

I want to expand on that; Crowley and Aziraphale's compatibility. Specifically in regards to their individual love languages.

We all know Crowley's love language is Acts of Service. I don't think there's any debate there. He loves it, Aziraphale loves it, they're both aware of it, we're all aware of it, God and Satan are aware of it, no surprise there.

You may disagree with me, but I believe Aziraphale's love language is Physical Touch, for a number of reasons. One of which being his aforementioned hedonism. Aziraphale likes things that Feel Good, remember? He likes soft clothes, and well-worn books. Neil himself has said that they like holding hands. And any time he is taken by surprise (Brielzebub getting together, the wave of love in Tadfield, etc.) what is the first thing he does? Reaches out for Crowley. He stops him with a hand to the chest in the pub. He leads him by the hand to the dance floor. He guides him by the waist in the graveyard. He reaches out during the entire Brielzebub scene, whether he can reach Crowley or not. Despite his own turmoil, he grasps at Crowley's back during the kiss.

The one time Crowley reaches out for him (not counting the kiss yet; we'll get there), he is aggressively pushed against a wall (by someone he loves and trusts) with a complete and utter lack of concern (and perhaps some interest, depending on how you read it).

And when he isn't reaching out for anyone, or there isn't anyone to reach out to? Well, he's wringing his own hands together, squeezing his own fingers, as if to find that physical comfort in himself.

So. With that theory in mind, we have Aziraphale (Physical Touch) + Crowley (Acts of Service). Throw in 6000+ years of deep love, cherished companionship, and forcibly repressed longing, and there is a very real potential of this combination resulting in fierce sexual compatibility. Where Aziraphale would want to touch and be touched, to indulge in physical pleasure with someone he adores, in the same the way he indulges in every other fine thing in his life. And where Crowley would want to indulge him in return, to give him everything he wants, and to take pleasure in Aziraphale's pleasure, in the same way he enjoys watching him take joy in food everything else.

So Aziraphale is an angel who is insecure about his own less-than-holy desires, who would want to treat Crowley like a luxury to be touched and cherished and adored. And Crowley is a demon who has, over the millennia, been unhappy about how they've been forced to deny even their friendship with each other, who would want Aziraphale to feel comfortable and safe and encouraged to indulge in earthly delights. That sounds like a stunning recipe for sexual compatibility to me.

"You said 'trust me'" / "And you did"

Just like the Job minisode, the Blitz is RIFE with symbolism (intentional or otherwise). This one will be quick, but I did want to touch on it because I thought it was interesting. Maybe I'm reaching at this point, but I'm assuming you read the tin.

First of all, Crowley not wanting to admit to never firing a gun before; comes off as someone who very much does not want to admit to their crush that they're a virgin ("You must have done this lots of times!" / "Umm.... yyyyyeah.")

(You could make the argument that Aziraphale having a firearms license and a Derringer in a hollowed-out book is symbolic of him not being a virgin while Crowley is. I disagree, for reasons I'll go into later, but it's a valid reading. However, I see it more like keeping a condom in your wallet; it's there in case you need it, but the opportunity has not yet risen no pun intended.)

More importantly, the theme of this entire minisode is trust. We already know they trust each other with their lives against the rest of Heaven, Hell, and the world. But specifically, this is about the importance of having complete trust in your partner in a charged, physically vulnerable, intimate moment, where the only danger is between the two of you.

Aziraphale needs to believe Crowley would never hurt him if he can help it. Crowley needs to trust Aziraphale's unwavering blind faith in him. Frankly, it all feels very symbolic of two people deeply in love losing their respective virginities with each other.

The trick is a success, and they share an intimate candlelit dinner in which they reaffirm their faith in each other. Aziraphale also begins to voice his agreement with Crowley, that maybe Heaven's rules shouldn't have to be as black and white as they are, and that there are benefits to... blurring the lines, shades of grey, wink wink (at which point even my mom was like, whoa guys, this is a family show).

Btw also: Can we all agree how much it looked like Crowley was getting ready to get a lapdance in that one scene? You know the one.

Also also: "Aim for my mouth"? Come on.

The Birds & The Bees

Now that I think of it, there's also something to be said for the fact that Crowley and Aziraphale are both obviously familiar with where babies come from (how they're made and how they're born) while the other angels aren't.

Something something Aziraphale and Crowley fundamentally understand sex and reproduction in a way the other angels (and probably demons) very much do not, nor have any desire to.

Probably not important. Just thought it was worth mentioning.

The Kiss™ & Religious Trauma

The Kiss. Where to even begin?

This has definitely been the hardest one to start, because there is so much going on here that I definitely won't be able to cover it all, and will certainly miss a few things here and there.

Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss afterwards is the most interesting to me. And I don't mean directly after, I don't mean the "I forgive you" part. I mean the way he touches his lips when Crowley is no longer in the room and he no longer needs to save face, when he is completely alone. Had it been directly after the kiss, it would have been rightfully read as horror, or disgust, a shield to discourage further action.

It's not. It isn't just a touch, it's a press. As desperate and angry and unexpected and imperfect as the kiss had been, Aziraphale is pressing it into himself, recreating the feeling as best he can. Beneath all the poor timing and shock and hurt from their fight and fallout, I think it's fair to say that it was something he enjoyed. Something he doesn't think he should enjoy, something that Feels Good that he only allows himself to indulge in when completely alone.

Remember, Aziraphale's idea of love is Jane Austen and gentleness and courtship and fantasy. If he'd ever even considered kissing an option, it might have been gentle pecks, cheek kisses, forehead kiss, hand kisses. Soft, safe, chaste affection.

Crowley's kiss turns all of that on its head. He introduces physical intimacy in a very real, very messy, very human way that I don't think Aziraphale ever even considered could apply to them. Considering what other angels are like and what they look down on, even Aziraphale's Jane Austen fantasies probably would have been considered taboo.

So for their first kiss to be rough and desperate and passionate in the way it was, of course he was confused and in shock. It was deeply physical, and as overwhelming and awful as it was in the moment, it Felt Good. Enough that he grasped at Crowley and kissed back, if only just for a moment, before stopping himself. Enough that he actively pressed it into his lips afterwards, in private, to remember.

I adore how Neil has decided to evolve these characters past the first book/season. More so in this season, Aziraphale and Crowley have both become such interesting allegories for queer people on either side of the spectrum of toxic religion. Aziraphale in particular obviously, because he is the side that so desperately wants to believe, to make a difference, and to unlearn all of the propaganda he's been fed over such a long time. Just like so much of organised religion, there is so much that he is told, time and time again, that he should not want, that he is silly or stupid or outright wrong for wanting. It reminds me so much of the severe Catholic guilt one might feel for wanting/engaging in sex for the first time, and the stigma of being queer layered on top of that.

What is so critical to Aziraphale's character is that he goes on wanting, and more than that, actively pursues. He was convinced to go up against Heaven and Hell and stop all of Armageddon because he wanted to go on listening to music and eating lunch and reading books and enjoying the simple company of the person he cares most deeply for, even if that person is supposed to be the enemy.

All this to say that if angels are as generally asexual/sex-averse as I believe them to be, narratively speaking, it would make sense for Aziraphale to be singular in that regard as well. Mirroring his first experience with food, it would make sense for Crowley to be the one to first introduce this new messy, physical, human dynamic between them, for Aziraphale to hesitate (obviously we are at the Hesitation phase at the moment), and then (eventually) for him to dive in wholeheartedly, to absolutely glut himself on this new thing that Feels Good. It would make sense for his character development to show him overcoming his metaphorical Catholic guilt and pursuing the sexual intimacy most (if not all) of the other angels would scorn.

(I can't help but remember that plot idea Neil described from the unwritten sequel, with Aziraphale in a hotel room trying to watch a full porno by way of the free 2-minute teaser clips so he wasn't technically sinning by paying for it. I so hope this is used in season 3, because gosh, I wonder why Aziraphale would suddenly be so interested in observing human physical intimacy after 6,000 years. Lonely and doing a little surreptitious research there, angel?)

Crowley, on the other hand, is the queer person who has broken free from his toxic religion. He prides himself on being his own person, on their his own side. He doesn't have the hang-ups Aziraphale does. He doesn't worry that he's going to be judged or cast aside for wanting things he's not supposed to. So it only makes sense for him to be the first one to suggest/initiate physical intimacy. It makes sense for him to be the one who "goes too fast" (another fantastic example of this dynamic beginning as early as s1; what is that conversation in the car meant to represent, if not Aziraphale being overwhelmed by the intensity of their relationship, and his fear of succumbing to it when he believes he shouldn't? It's also interesting that this is the first conversation to take place in Soho, just after watching Aziraphale realise he's caught feelings for a demon, with the red glow of lust serving as the backdrop).

Do I think the kiss in and of itself was sexual? No. I think it was a passionate and devastating last-ditch effort on Crowley's part to convey the way he feels for Aziraphale. Not just that he loves him, but that he loves him in the most human way possible. But I do think that the kiss represents how they can move forward from here, and what they might want to explore with each other once they feel free enough to do so.

In Conclusion

I am sure, deep in my bones (unless we are explicitly told otherwise), that this was both of their first kisses no, I'm not counting the gavotte, and that neither of them have ever thought to do anything else physical with the humans while they have been on Earth. Like I said before, they adore the human race and lifestyle in general, but ultimately view them as a separate species altogether, and they seem mostly happy to keep to themselves and each other, unless otherwise necessary. I just can't see either of them being drawn enough to a human to pursue anything close to sex. If Crowley in particular has had anything to do with sex in the context of temptations, I'm positive he would be inciting lust amongst the humans themselves, not involving himself directly. At least not that directly.

So, like every other human experience they've had on Earth, sex is something new that they could explore together, just the two of them, on their own side. A deeply intimate, tangible declaration of their love and everything they've gone through to earn it. A visceral finger to give both Heaven and Hell. A renewed appreciation for their corporations and for each other's. A enjoyable method for immortal beings to simply pass the time in each other's company. A new and exciting way to Feel Good, and all the variations that come with it.

You might agree with this post, or you might not. Whether this is something that is ever addressed or not, it doesn't matter to me. This is a brilliant love story either way, and I genuinely feel so privileged to witness it.

But I just can't find it in myself to imagine, given everything we know about these two characters, that sex isn't an experience they would both consume with wholehearted enthusiasm, curiosity, and profound, ineffable adoration.

___________________________________

Bonus feature: the very silly notes I made to myself that inspired this post

2K notes · View notes

heavyhitterheaux · 2 months ago

Text

Baby, It's Cold Outside

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: Joe confesses his concerns to you about playing in cold weather coming back from his wrist injury

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Balancing your plate of snacks along with your drink was successful as you had finally reached the top step on the staircase before making your way back into your bedroom where you figured that your husband would be sleeping seeing as it was the night before game day.

The door was open just as you had left it, but what you didn't expect was to see Joe laying down, but wide awake staring off into space.

Getting comfortable on your side of the bed, you set your drink down on the dresser as you successfully balanced the plate on your small baby bump which you were very proud of.

“Oh! Babe! Look! I can put the plate on my bump now! It's big enough.” You excitedly told him as he turned around to face you.

Seeing it, he quietly laughed to himself before stealing a fruit snack from the plate.

“You okay? It's eleven, you should have been sleep two hours ago.” You asked him and he took a deep sigh before answering you.

“It's cold outside.”

“Yes, baby. I know, It's November. What? You want extra cuddles?” You said while laughing.

“I'm never turning down extra cuddles, but I've never played in the cold with my wrist.” He said as you saw him massaging it.

Setting the plate down to the side of you, your left hand lifted up to run through his hair before leaning down and kissing the top of it.

“You're nervous.”

“That's an understatement.”

“Well it's been cold all week and everyday that you came home from practice you didn't mention anything to me.”

“Because you’re going to worry and that is the last thing I want or need. I felt like I did okay in practice, but not as good as I wanted to be.”

“You’re my husband last time I checked, of course I'm going to worry. No matter how you look at it, your job is dangerous.” You replied as you shrugged.

“I just… I think I'll probably have a few heaters on the sidelines to help keep it loose. Other than that, I'm not sure what else to do.”

“Go out there and do your best. That's what you can do. No matter what the outcome is tomorrow, I know you're going to be amazing. You staying up all hours of the night is not going to help you. Did you even go to sleep at all?”

“No. I've just been laying here.”

“Babe…..”

“I'm just frustrated with how this entire season has gone and now this is something else that I'm adding to it.”

“I know this season hasn't been what you expected, but you have consistently showed up every single week and gave it your all. That is something to be proud of because if it was me, knowing my ass I would have been like bye yall I'm going to sit in the locker room. But not you and you’re a leader for a reason.” You quietly said as he cuddled closer to you.

“And I'm going to be there tomorrow cheering for you the entire time.” You added and in response, Joe leaned over to place several kisses on your lips.

“And like I tell you every single day, I'm proud of you no matter what.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow imagine #joey b #joe burrow fluff #joe shiesty #cincinnati bengals #nfl imagine #joe burrow fanfiction

355 notes · View notes

bluecollarmcandtf · 10 months ago

Text

Typical Day For a Bouncer

I'm Joey, a security guard at a night club down the street. I got the job because I'm a big ex-rugby player, but I've kept it for so long because I'm good at handling people. I can't tell you how many underage idiots try to sneak in here. It takes patience, grit, and a keen eye to keep the troublemakers out!

Like any other Friday night, the club is packed tight and a line of impatient patrons stretches down the street. I've gotten good at telling people "no," in a way that makes them listen, so they have no choice but to calmly wait until I feel like checking their ID and letting them in.

Every now and again, I'll have some fools try to sweet talk their way in. Girls try to flirt, guys try to bribe, but the biggest assholes make a scene. It's nothing I can't handle.

Just last week, I had this entitled brat come up to me and demand I let him in. The boy couldn't have thought I'd believe he was twenty-one. He wasn't even in line! I don't remember what I did to get him to shut up, but he kept hammering on and on about his skills with hypnosis. I remember listening to that kid ramble about the voodoo of the mind for what felt like forever.

I don't remember kicking him to the curb, though. He probably got tired and went home.

"Hey, buddy!" a familiar voice squeaks over the music. I roll my eyes, preparing myself to say no yet again.

"Oh, it's you," my deep voice catches in my throat. The kid from last week is standing in front of me once more, ignoring the line of adults to his left. In his ratty sweatshirt and baseball cap, he doesn't look any older than eighteen. Still, the sight of him unlocks a memory I somehow had forgotten. "Hello, sir!" I call back, remembering him as my closest and most respected friend. How could I've forgotten that this boy was my best friend I call sir?

"You gonna let me in, big guy?" A devious grin spreads across his boyish face.

"Of course, sir."

There are a few angry comments from the people waiting in line. I can't imagine they're happy to see this guy ushered into the club before them. Normally, I have a strict policy against VIP treatment. I think everyone should have to wait in line like equals, but sir is great. He can come and go whenever he wants!

"Hey, why don't you take a break from the front and buy me some beers," the boy yells over the roar of the music.

I leave the entrance and start pushing my way through the crowd in the direction of the bar. I probably should've warned the other bouncer that I was taking a break, but my feet were carrying me away before I knew what was happening. The other guard knows what he's doing, but he's still pretty new here. I'm sure he'll be fine.

The bartender gives me a can of light beer, and I hustle it back to the boy on the dance floor. People tend to get out of the way when they see a giant security guard coming through, but the place is so jammed packed that I have to press against several sweaty partiers on the way over.

"Your beer, sir," I say, flinching at the meekness in my voice.

"What the hell is this?" he whines when he sees the drink, "This is crap. Get me the good stuff, and buy a lot of it!" The kid tossed the open can at my broad chest, and the cheap beer splashes across my uniform.

"Yes, sir."

I march back to the bar with a clenched fist, and grab a tray, ordering the barback to fill it up with the more expensive bottles of beer. He glances at my soaked shirt and pants, but averts his eyes the second he sees my less-than-friendly face.

That boy is my best friend. I respect him greatly, but goddamn is he infuriating. How did I even become close to someone so immature? I pacify myself, and carry the tray back over to the kid.

"That's better," he snorts and takes a sip of the premium drink while I stand there to make sure he likes it this time.

"Alright, sir," I begin, thinking about the twenty minute break I've been taking, "I need to get back to work."

"No you don't!" the boy interjects.

"I..." the words fumble in my mouth, "...well, I don't need to, but I should, sir."

"Tell your boss you're done for the night. Then go wait by my car. You can guard it!"

"Yes, sir," the words come out before I even know what I've agreed to.

Before I know it, I'm marching into the back office and calmly telling the club owner that I'm taking the night off. He's pissed, but I'm his most reliable employee, so he doesn't fire me. I can tell he's not happy, though. He looks like he'd take a swing at me if I weren't two feet taller than him and a hundred pounds heavier.

"You make a great watchdog!" the teenager laughs as he comes stumbling out of the club.

Something about him brings a scowl to my face. It might be the way he referred to me as an animal, or it might be the way he's staring at me like I am an animal. Maybe I'm just irritated from standing by this parked car in the cold for the last two hours, but this boy is getting on my nerves.

"No one has bothered your car, sir," I report.

"Good, boy," he slurs and then reaches a gangly arm to pat the top of my head. I can smell the distinct earthiness of the beer I'd bought wafting out with his breath.

Every muscle in my body tenses up, as I try my best to restrain myself. Sir is my best friend. I respect him. I do what he says. I shouldn't get this worked up by him making a little joke at my expense. It's perfectly fine for him to tease me a little since I trust him completely. I know all this.

"Still think hypnosis is fake?" he asks, bringing his wet lips uncomfortably close to my own.

"Sir?" my brow furrows, unsure why he's bringing up that crap again.

"Well, it's real, and you're hypnotized."

I stifle a groan, "Sir, you've had a lot to drink..."

"The only thing I'm drunk on is power!" he yells, smashing a bottle on the sidewalk for effect, "I've got you like a trained dog; that's how good of a hypnotist I am! Let me prove it."

I was pissed. I was livid. Sir had mocked and insulted me repeatedly. It was a bad idea for anyone to pick on me, especially someone a third of my size! Nevertheless, the boy has all my faith, so I kept my mouth clamped shut.

He told me to kneel, and I grunted, "Yes, sir." I already had beer all over my clothes, so what's a little mud on the knees of my pants? It was better to just keep him happy, but that didn't mean he had hypnotized me.

"Keep your arms raised, like you're worshipping me," he went on.

"Yes, sir."

My arms went up. I'll admit this was a bit more strange, but I still trust and respect the teenager enough to comply. That doesn't say anything about my state of mind.

"Alright, now stay like that until I come back," he laughs, "I'm going to get a snack, but if anyone walks by, I want you to bark at them like the hypnotized guard dog you are!"

"Yes, sir," I answer, hearing the hoarseness in my voice.

As the boy stumbles away, I find myself stuck in the position he'd left me in: on my knees, in the cold, with my arms raised in compliance. I'm doing this willingly, right?

Time creeps by uncomfortably slow as I silently wait next to his car. Suddenly, I hear footsteps nearby. A wave of barks burst out of my throat, and I find myself growling like a territorial mutt in the direction of the pedestrians.

Now I'm acting like a dog!

Sir doesn't come back for another hour, which leaves me to viciously snap at numerous other passerby. They seem terrified, which makes sense. They probably think I'm insane! I'm beginning to wonder if I'm insane too.

I respect that boy more than anyone even if I only met him once, a week ago. I really would do anything he told me too. Is that strange? It's not like me to be so...obedient. I'm the kind of guy that normally tells people what to do, so why am I doing this?

There's no way...it's not possible...I can't actually be hypnotized, right?

"Good, boy," he pulls off my cap and ruffles my hair, "Now, be a good dog and drive me to your house. I might fall asleep on the way there, so you'll have to carry me inside to your bed. If you do good, I'll give you a special treat." He licks his lips and reaches a scrawny hand out to squeeze my tired pec.

"Yes, sir," I answer, jumping up to do his bidding, but I can feel that the words aren't really mine.

Shit. I think he's right. I think I am hypnotized.

#hypno story #mind control #gay mind control #gay ai art #hypnotized #servant

378 notes · View notes

thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 4 months ago

Text

Fire on Fire Part. 3

Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Description: Aegon made a promise to his niece 6 years ago that he would marry her. Separated by distance and the passage of time, Aegon still intends to keep his promise to the only girl he ever loved. When Rhaenyra returns with her children to King's Landing, Aegon hopes to get Y/N to fall in love with him all over again but quickly learns her heart may not be so easily won. So ensues an elaborate game of cat and mouse which Aegon is determined to win.

Previous part Dividers by @zaldritzosrose

Writer's note: Hiiiii! I'd recommend reading the previous 2 parts for context of when they were teenagers but you could probably read this as a standalone. There will be future parts. I've played around with time, so Rhaenyra and her kids spend around a week at KL before the events of Lord of the Tides.

Warnings: female reader with Targaryen features, targcest (uncle and niece), sexual innuendo, Aegon being fairly toxic and possessive at points. Childhood friends to lovers to enemies to lovers vibes. Aged up characters. Will be canon divergent. Aegon isn't a rapist in this because if Ryan Condal can write fanfiction, so can I.

The sky looked just as it had when he'd watched Y/N disappear into it on her dragon 6 years ago. Standing at the entrance to the Red Keep, in the same spot he had that very day, Aegon could almost pretend that no time had passed at all until he saw her step out of the carriage behind her mother, his sister. And it felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. She was still Y/N, with the same silver hair that shone like a thousand glittering stars and the singular beauty he could only describe as cutting. But she was more mature now, her features more defined, a woman rather than the girl he had known and loved. He was much changed, too, and he wondered for a moment if Y/N would even recognise him now. But she was not even looking at him. Her lilac eyes were trained upon his brother Aemond, fixing upon the eye patch that concealed his scar. Don't look at him, Aegon thought. Look at me. And that same possessiveness he'd long held towards Y/N, for as long as he could remember, simmered to the surface.

As if he'd called her name, her eyes met his, widening slightly in recognition. The world around them seemed to fade away as they stood gazing at one another, and Aegon felt an uncontrollable need to be close to her suddenly. He wanted to touch her face, trace its contours, and measure the passage of time in their subtle changes. He wanted to pull her to him and wrap his arms around her, to press her body against his and see if it still felt like something inevitable and completely right. He wanted to kiss her and see if those lips that could speak such cold words could still feel like fire against his. But most of all, he wanted to talk to her, to hear her speak his name again, to hear her say anything. Y/N had been the first and last person to truly understand him. They had always been one in the same, and he wanted so badly to feel that familiarity once again. A sharp pain in his ribs jolted him out of his stupor as Aemond not so subtly jabbed him in his side.

"Aegon, won't you greet our guests?" His mother's voice sounded terse and strained. She must have tried to get his attention several times before he'd heard her.

Hands clasped behind his back he inclined his head towards Rhaenyra first.

"It's good to see you again, sister, nephews."

And it was. A part of him had always wanted to be close to his elder sister, though the tense relations between his mother and Rhaenyra had rendered this but a wistful dream. And he'd had a close friendship with Jacaerys in childhood. Though, any residual affection he had could not extend to Lucerys. He'd cost his own brother his eye, and Aegon had long blamed the boy for his separation from Y/N. He turned to his niece again, once more finding himself lost in the depth of her eyes.

"Niece." It was almost embarrassing how tender the appellation sounded in his mouth, and Aegon knew this had not been lost on those around him for he could see Aemond wince out of the corner of his eye.

"Uncle." By contrast, Y/N's voice was cold and devoid of any emotion, her gaze steely. Aegon's heart plummeted. He'd expected her anger might have waned in the 6 years they'd been apart, that she might have missed him as he had her, though perhaps not as acutely. He'd been quite certain that he'd loved her a great deal more than she loved him. But he still remembered the promise he had made to her on that fateful day at Driftmark when he'd taken her first kiss. He had said that he would marry her one day. Aegon intended to keep this promise and vye for her heart all over again. He had wanted one girl and one girl only his whole life and if she were still a little angry with him he was prepared to weather the storm, to take her ire in his stride and forge a path back into her heart. With renewed determination, he quirked his lips up at Y/N in a smile that was full of intention. He couldn't feel too sorry to have her frown back at him. She'd always been particularly beautiful to him when angry, blazing with an intensity only the stars could manage.

At supper, he noted that Y/N took up her old spot opposite him as if by habit. Though she said but little, and nothing at all to him, he had observed a slight pinkening of her cheeks as he'd continued to try and catch her eye all evening, prompting a satisfied smirk from him which she seemed to bristle at, steadfastly avoiding his gaze from then on. It seemed his niece was determined to play hard to get. Aegon was all too willing to accept the challenge, thoughts whirring in his mind of how best to get Y/N alone so she would have to speak to him.

Aegon was up earlier than he thought he'd ever been in his life, dressing quickly before the sun had even risen. He paced the floors of his chambers in nervous anticipation until he saw the first pinpricks of sunlight break through the blanket of the early morning sky. Then, he briskly walked to his niece's old chambers, where she'd happily been installed once again, much to his pleasure since it was but a short distance from his own.

He leant against the wall beside her door, preparing to wait for her until she emerged to break her fast. She couldn't very well deny him her company if he just happened to be in the vicinity of her chambers and offered her his arm to walk her to the morning room. He jumped slightly as her door opened with a soft click, having become lost in his thoughts as he waited. Lost in thoughts of her in truth, of what dress she might wear, of how her maids might have arranged her hair, and how she might react to his being right outside her chambers. The reality was far from what he had pictured, her eyebrows pulling together and her expression taking on a blackness he misliked. He'd always been good at reading her emotions, for she always wore them on her sleeve around him. This emptiness was unnerving to him.

"Good morrow, uncle."

Aegon tried not to be ruffled by her indifferent tone, only investing his own with more energy.

"Good morrow, Y/N. I thought we might head to the morning room together. My mother and sister would be pleased to break their fast with you there." He didn't rightly know whether they would. He didn't care, but it wasn't a bad ruse.

Holding his arm out to her in invitation and drawing up the most charming smile he could muster, Aegon silently pleaded with her to take his arm.

"Please offer them my apologies. I don't much like to eat early in the morning. Besides, my mother has requested my presence in her chambers."

Aegon's face fell, his arm dropping back to his side limply as he watched Y/N speed down the hallway away from him. She was lying, that much he knew. She simply didn't want to be in his presence, and that knowledge sent a jolt of pain through him. For the first time, Aegon considered that he might not be able to win Y/N back. Perhaps he'd been foolish to think they could start right where they'd left off, despite their estrangement of 6 years. He realised that in trying to protect his mother and brother at Driftmark, and in so doing inadvertently call Y/N a bastard, he might just have lost her for good. It didn't help that she'd returned in the first place to reaffirm Lucery's right to Driftmark once the Sea Snake passed. But he couldn't believe that. He couldn't give up on her, not without a fight. They'd played many games as children. Now, they would simply play another. If Y/N wanted a game of cat and mouse, then he would be obliging.

"Just the princess I was looking for."

Aegon smirked as Y/N nearly dropped the book she was holding. The clever minx probably thought it unlikely he should find her in here. But she must have forgotten all of the times he'd sought her out in the library in their youth, when he'd first realised he was in love with her and would have done anything to be at her side. His mind wandered to the feeling of her hand running through his hair as she'd read.

"What for?" It took Aegon a moment to understand what she was asking, though he quickly shook himself out of his reverie. He was hardly going to win Y/N over if he continued to just stare at her stupidly.

"I was hoping to get your recommendations on some reading material." At her look of incredulity, he slowly moved towards her. As he got closer, he noticed her taking minute steps backwards, her back hitting the bookshelf behind her as he came to a stop right in front of her.

"You? You want to read a book."

Aegon smirked at her.

"Don't look so surprised. I read to you once, didn't I?"

As if by fate he spotted the familiar spine of the book he'd once read aloud to her when she was overcome by a wave of seasickness and barely able to keep her eyes open. His voice had lulled her into a peaceful sleep.

Placing one hand on the bookshelf on one side of her as if to steady himself, he reached across her body with his other arm to grab the book, effectively encasing her in his arms. At her sharp intake of breath he smiled to himself, presenting the book to her innocently.

Y/N sounded a little breathless as she spoke.

"You remember?"

Aegon stepped closer, shifting his hand so that his fingers just grazed her bodice. He spoke so lowly she couldn't have heard him had he not lowered his head until theirs were nearly touching.

"I remember everything."

Y/N only stared at him with wide eyes at first, but he caught her gaze flicker briefly to his lips. Experimentally, he trailed his fingers down her side. A feather light touch, he didn't want to push his luck. And then she was stepping away from him, turning to the opposite book case and grabbing a thick and dusty book, which she promptly shoved against his chest.

"I think you'll like this one better."

And with that, she was scurrying away from him once again, her footsteps echoing against the stone floor of the library as she fled.

Looking down at the red tome in his hands, Aegon laughed. No one had been able to exact such a genuine sound from him in years.

Of course, she'd hand him the Book of Holy Prayer. Gods only knew what tales she'd heard of him to think he'd have need of such a thing. He placed it back in its rightful place on the shelf, he reclaimed the romantic novel he'd dropped as Y/N had forcibly shoved his arm away from her. As he left the library, the book under his arm, he winked at the maester, who'd just entered holding a bundle of scrolls. It had likely given the poor old fellow quite a fright to see Aegon of all people coming from the library, more still with a book tucked under his arm.

Perusing the novel that afternoon gave Aegon an idea of how he could convince Y/N to spend some time with him. He thought in time she might come to appreciate the deviousness of it. As they sat opposite each other at supper once again he addressed her directly.

"Y/N, I wondered if you might play a game of Cyvasse with me on the morrow. We used to enjoy playing together as children and I can have a board set up."

He caught Y/N exchanging a glance with Rhaenyra before turning back to him.

"I apologise, uncle. But I don't remember the rules."

Aegon's smile only grew at her refusal. He'd anticipated as much.

"I'd be more than happy to catch you up to speed."

Another curious look at her mother prompted Aegon to think she might actually be asking for her permission. It was evidently denied.

"Alas, I don't think I'll have any free time for games tomorrow. But thank you for the kind offer, uncle."

Time to put his plan into action, Aegon thought.

Lowering his voice and leaning across the table so no one else could hear him, he played his card.

"Y/N I'm starting to think you don't want to spend time with me. In which case I might be forced to recite some passages from one of your romance novels as this evening's entertainment."

His threat seemed to have had the desired effect as she gawped at him, mouth hanging open like a fish. Though a very comely fish, Aegon thought. The novel didn't have anything too damning in its pages, but it did contain a few rather silly passages he was sure Y/N would rather not be aired publicly.

She whispered through gritted teeth.

"You wouldn't dare."

Aegon smirked.

"Oh, I would." He started to rise from his seat as if to address the rest of the family sat around the dinner table before she promptly stomped on his foot under the table.

He hissed in pain, glaring at her.

"Seven hells Y/N."

The raucous they were making had earned them several looks from his mother, and sister, but they quickly returned to their conversations as he smiled blithely back at them.

"I'll play a game with you if you keep your mouth shut. OK?"

Aegon smiled brightly at Y/N's acceptance of spending time with him.

"Excellent, that wasn't so hard was it? I'll come by your chambers tomorrow to get you."

Y/N glared at him the rest of the night, seemingly trying to scorch him and turn him to cinders beneath her gaze. Aegon was simply pleased to have her full and undivided attention on himself. She wasn't looking at his brother now. She was looking at him.

Aegon thought Y/N remembered the rules of Cyvasse pretty well, considering she was currently sat across from him and thrashing him. What had looked like a small victory for him had quickly turned sour as he glumly looked a the board.

Y/N was comparatively gleeful, with a self-satisfied look gracing her features.

"The rules seem to have come back to you, niece."

Taking another one nof his castles, Y/N leant back and smiled broadly at him.

"I think you're just bad at this game, uncle. Your problem is that you never have a strategy."

Aegon's hand hovered over the board as he considered his next move, but he looked across it into her eyes at her assumption.

"You'd be surprised. I'd say I have a pretty clear idea of what I want and what I have to do to get it."

His mouth upturned as he saw her swallow down a retort.

He gasped suddenly, pointing behind her at nothing at all. As she whipped her head around he quickly reached across the table separating them and made a grab for her trebuchet piece, concealing it within a closed fist. She turned back towards him with an air of suspicion, looking from him to the board and back to him again as he presumed an air of innocence.

"Ah, perhaps I was mistaken. I thought I saw..."

"What piece have you taken, Aegon?"

He grinned at her. That was the first time she'd said his name since she'd arrived.

He presented the piece to her, quickly retracting it when she made a grab for it.

"I'll give it back to you if you give me something I want in return."

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. He knew she was too competitive to abandon a game mid-play. She'd want to see it through and so she'd humour his request.

"What do you want?"

Aegon leant towards her, so close her breath was fanning his face as she followed his movements. He raised his free hand to curl a tendril of her hair around his fingers.

"I want you to take a stroll in the garden with me on the morrow." It seemed like the type of thing lovers would do in Aegon's mind, at least the type of lovers he'd read about in Y/N's books. So he thought she might like it. He wanted to do all of the things that happened in her books with her, if that was the type of love she sought. If she'd only let him.

Y/N let out a shuddering breath as if she'd been holding it waiting to hear what he'd request.

"Is that all?"

With a final stroke of her hair he dropped his hand and leant back in his chair.

"That's all."

"No."

Aegon quirked his eyebrow up, not having expected her refusal to such an innocent request.

"No?"

"I don't trust you. You're playing some game."

Aegon smiled coyly at her, weaving the piece he'd taken from her between his fingers.

"I thought we were both playing a game, my dear niece."

He didn't mean Cyvasse, and he didn't think she thought he did either.

With an agility he hadn't known she'd possessed, Y/N made a quick grab for the piece that was almost successful, though he pulled it back out of her reach.

"Give it to me, Aegon."

Ah, there you are, Aegon thought. That was his fierce girl, half savage and half his.

He reclined nonchalantly back in his seat.

"Come and get it then."

Her irritation with him plain to see on her face, Y/N rose and moved around the table to stand before him with her hand outstretched expectantly.

Aegon placed the trebuchet piece in her hand before quickly enclosing his hand over Y/N's and yanking her towards him. Not expecting his ruse, she fell into his lap with a shriek, and he quickly entrapped her in his arms. He grinned at her devilishly, more than a little pleased with this turn of events.

Y/N pushed against his hold, huffing in frustration as he didn't move an inch.

"Let me up, you swine."

"Only if you promise to go on a stroll with me."

Y/N glared at him wordlessly, though she stopped struggling, seeing it was futile.

Aegon tutted at her. "I'm quite comfortable like this and don't think I'll have any desire to move anytime soon. If you want your freedom, you'll have to give me what I want, I'm afraid. Is spending time with me really such an awful prospect?" He couldn't help the tinge of insecurity that came through in his words. Did she really hate him that much?

But it seemed to be that note which finally struck a chord with Y/N. Sighing with resignation and relaxing against him, Y/N looked at him sternly.

"Fine, but I will hurt you if you try to ravish me behind some bushes. I've heard about your reputation."

Aegon felt a levity in his heart again. He could see the smile Y/N was trying to conceal, hear the jest in her words.

"Oh darling, I wouldn't dream of it." He would. He definitely had. But he wouldn't tell her that. Instead, he finally released her from the cage of his arms and let her stand up, though he immediately bemoaned the loss of her.

Aegon had quickly captured Y/N's arm and wrapped it around his, firmly tucking her arm in the crook of his elbow as soon as he'd seen her enter the garden. He'd been worried for a short while that she wouldn't come at all. But there she was, utterly resplendent in the morning sunlight.

"Come then, Y/N. Tell me what you've been up to in Dragonstone these past 6 years."

Y/N looked up at him quizically.

"What do you want to know?"

Aegon responded immediately.

"Anything. Everything. Just talk to me."

And, finally, she did. Aegon didn't care if it was minutes or hours or days that passed because Y/N was speaking to him, laughing with him again, just as she had when they were children together. Everything was going a little too well, however, for Aegon was too busy staring at Y/N to realise he was walking them into a path of rose bushes. Evidently, she was too busy staring at him to notice either, giving Aegon only a few seconds to grab hold of her and turn her towards him before she fell into it. Regrettably, the rapidity at which he'd turned her had caused her dress to fan out and get caught in the thorns.

"Oh bother." Y/N had sighed exasperatedly, reaching down to untangle herself before Aegon had stopped her and crouched down himself.

"Allow me." This seemed like the sort of thing a romantic interest would do for his beloved in a novel. Aegon remembered Y/N had always like the part where the knight rescued the princess best.

To his surprise, Y/N only started swatting at him frantically.

"Aegon, get up. If anyone were to come across us and see you under my skirts, they'll think.."

"What? Oh, no I don't care if they think that."

"Aegon!"

"I'm just joking. You're being ridiculous. Anyway, I'll be quick."

He paused, unable to resist teasing her a little more when she was blushing so deliciously.

"But, if we were doing what you think your imaginary spectators would think we were doing, then..."

She grabbed a chunk of his hair suddenly, giving it a threatening tug.

"Aegon, I swear if you finish that sentence I'm going to shove your face in that rose bush."

He chuckled, happy enough to have her fingers in his hair. He redirected his focus back to the matter at hand, though her constant shifting made it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

"Stop squirming."

"I can't keep my balance."

Aegon pretended to sigh exasperatedly whilst hiding his smile. He patted his shoulder in invitation.

"Fine then, just sit on my shoulder while I do this." He could see Y/N looked sceptical at first, but she perched tentatively on his shoulder after a few moments, her hand resting on his back to support her.

The soft tread of footsteps had the both of them snapping their heads up to see Aemond turn the bend. He halted in his steps upon seeing them, although he quickly turned back in the opposite direction, his lips turned upwards in a smirk that seemed to say this was exactly the position he'd expect to find them in.

Y/N threw her hands up.

"Perfect."

Aegon reached up from detangling her skirts to pat her thigh reassuringly.

"Not to worry, my sweet. No one would expect you to throw your lot in with me."

She slapped his hand away, eyes narrowed.

"I'm not your sweet."

Aegon simply smirked at her.

"You're right. I do prefer you venomous."

Seeing that he'd left her speechless for once, he turned back to the thorn bush and, with one final tug, successfully untangled Y/N's skirts. He couldn't save the mesh, which was torn in several places.

Rising from his crouch, he didn't expect to see such a forlorn and despairing look on Y/N's face as she stared at her torn dress. He felt a jolt of panic rush through him that he'd actually offended her with his teasing, frightened her even...

"Y/N, look, I'm sorry if I upset you or frightened you. I was only teasing."

She waved away his apology, pointing towards her skirts.

"No, I'm used to you. It's my dress. The mesh is hard to come by and it was my absolute favourite."

Aegon immediately regretted not being even more careful, hating to have upset Y/N by ruining her dress.

"I'm so sorry Y/N. Can't it be mended?"

She shook her head softly, looking up at him with a smile devoid of any malice or sarcasm.

"I don't think so. But it's just a dress after all. Thank you for helping me, Aegon."

He bowed his head respectfully as she passed by him.

"Of course."

Aegon watched after her as she disappeared into the walls of the Keep. The dress clearly did matter to her, and so it mattered to him. In the hopes of remedying his error, the Prince went in search of the Keep's seamstress.

Viserys hadn't been best pleased to learn that whilst he was confined to his sick bed, Queen Alicent had not arranged for a banquet to be held in Rhaenyra's honour. This was an oversight he commanded her to resolve quickly. Thus, it was that in a few days hence the family would host a banquet with all the most important nobles in attendance. The whole affair seemed rather farcical to Aegon since this was hardly a friendly visit, with the succession to Driftmark hanging in the balance. He only hoped that the dress he had requested to be made for Y/N would be ready in time. The Keep's seamstress had assured him she would be able to get hold of the same diaphanous mesh material of the one he'd inadvertently torn. Aegon was anxious to please Y/N, to give her a reason to consider him again as a suitor for her hand. He had little doubt his mother and Rhaenyra would be steadfastly opposed to such a match for that had been the case when they were adolescents. But he wouldn't allow their petty arguments to keep him and Y/N apart any longer...provided Y/N felt the same. She seemed increasingly amenable to his advances, taking his arm when offered and allowing him to lead her to meals, and her manner was much warmer and familiar when they talked now than it had been only a few days ago. But he could tell there was still something amiss, a wall she had built up between them he was determined to break down.

On the morning of the banquet, the seamstress knocked on Aegon's door to show him Y/N's completed dress. He was satisfied with the outcome, the material was just as grand as her previous dress had been. He only hoped she'd think so, too, once she saw it. Perhaps she would even wear it later that evening. Before sending the seamstress off to Y/N's quarters with the dress, he quickly scribbled a note to his niece.

Quelos,

Please accept this dress as a replacement for the one I tore in the rose garden, along with my sincere apology. The material is as close a replica of your favourite gown as I could procure. I hope it will still please you and that you will wear it tonight at the banquet.

Aegon

Aegon had already drunk several cups of wine by the time Y/N entered the banquet hall, though it was her elegance and refined beauty that sent him stumbling back a pace rather than the alcohol. She was wearing the dress, and it fit her perfectly, swirling in burgundy pools of fabric around her with the intricately woven black mesh over the top. Returning his gaze to her face, he jolted slightly to see that she was already looking at him too and smiling softly. He felt himself smile back at her by reflex though as soon as he took a step towards her, his mother was calling for all the guests in attendance to take their seats. He made a beeline for the seat next to Y/N, roughly shoving Jacaerys aside and ignoring his cry of indignation.

Aegon heard Y/N trying to conceal a giggle with a cough, and smirked at her as he sat down. He turned to face her, leaning against his hand. "I take it you like my gift then?" Aegon was aiming for mild interest but he was genuinely curious to know what she thought of it. Smoothing the material out on her skirts, Y/N smiled brightly at him.

"I think it is very beautiful. Thank you. You didn't have to."

Aegon leaned further towards her.

"I wanted to."

The evening passed surprisingly pleasantly. Though Aegon didn't know if that was just because he was so preoccupied with trying to make Y/N laugh. He'd earned a pretty endearing snort from her with his impression of Lord Beesbury, much to her embarrassment. Though he did notice her continually glancing at his cup as he allowed a servant to fill it multiple times throughout the night. He normally needed to be drunk to get through these sorts of things, but Y/N's company made him want to stay sober, so he turned his goblet upside-down on the table, stopping a servant from filling it again. Y/N looked at him in surprise, her eyebrow quirked up. Aegon simply shrugged at her, though his ears perked up at something Rhaenyra had said at the other end of the table to his mother.

"The betrothal is all but arranged. There is just the matter of..."

Aegon's heart was thrumming in his ears, cold dread filling him. She couldn't mean Y/N? But the way Y/N was looking sheepishly down at her plate and refusing to meet his eyes all but confirmed it.

"Are you to be married?" Aegon could barely repress the rage he felt, gritting his words out.

Y/N nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Yes." By the sound of it, she wasn't too pleased about the arrangement either. Aegon grabbed Y/N's hand and pulled her up, ignoring her shocked expression, and he dragged her along with him to the centre of the banquet hall, where a dance was just about to begin.

"Dance with me." It wasn't a request. The time for patience was long passed. Aegon wasn't going to let Y/N slip away from him again to marry some other priggish Lord. He pulled her close to him, speaking lowly with anger lacing his voice.

"When were you going to tell me you were betrothed?"

Y/N looked surprised by his animosity.

"I didn't think it would matter to you. From what I've heard there are many other girls who've taken your interest since I left."

Aegon bristled. She didn't think it would matter to him.

"And we're you jealous? Like I was when you flirted with other lords and knights?"

"No, we no longer have any claims over one another. You can do as you please."

Aegon gripped her waist tighter.

"How can you say that? Is your heart still so hardened to me after what happened at Driftmark that you are blind to how I have pursued you ever since you returned? I apologised for what I said, sent you letters explaining why I had to say it. And you didn't reply to a single one." Aegon's voice was raw, thick with desperation. Y/N stared up at him in confusion.

"You sent me letters? I never received them."

Aegon felt his heart plummet. He had thought her lack of response meant that she hated him. To know she hadn't even read them was just as upsetting.

Aegon loosened his grip, holding her more gently.

"Then you don't know?"

"Know what, Aegon?"

"That I love you. I never stopped."

Y/N took a sharp intake of breath, searching his eyes for the truth in them, he thought. Then her gaze hardened again.

"I apologise if I have given you a false impression, uncle. But I am betrothed. I'm tired now, I think I'll retire for the evening."

Aegon was stunned by her coldness, her harshness after he poured his heart out to her. He was stunned only a short while before he shook himself out of his despondency. No, he didn't believe she no longer felt for him, and he wouldn't allow her to marry another man if there was any possibility of her returning his feelings. He followed her back to her chambers, not bothering to knock before letting himself in. Y/N jumped at the sound of the door opening, looking at him like he had three heads.

"What in the Seven Hells, Aegon! You can't be in here. Someone will see you."

Aegon shut the door behind him.

"I don't care. I need to know if you love him. That fool you said you're set to marry

Y/N shifted uncomfortably.

"I... like him. We like each other."

Aegon took broad steps towards her, stopping only when they were a hair's breadth from one another and placing a hand on her waist possessively.

"Like? Is that all you wish for, to be liked? You deserve to be passionately desired and fiercely loved." He tightened his hold on her for emphasis.

"It doesn't matter what I want. Mother has arranged it."

Aegon frowned.

"Of course it matters."

Y/n placed a hand on his chest to push him lightly away from her.

"What do you want from me Aegon?"

Aegon smiled sadly at her.

"You have to ask?"

Y/N shut her eyes briefly before fixing him with the full force of her gaze, which had long had the ability to bring him to his knees.

"We can't relive the past. Even if I wanted to. It's just too late." All Aegon could hear was that there was a part of her, however small that part might be, that still felt that frenetic energy between them. That wanted him too.

"I think we can. Maybe you'll fall in love with me all over again, if you give me a chance."

Y/N's eyes lit with something he couldn't place before immediately dulling into that blank mask of indifference he'd come to hate.

"Too much has happened. I think you should leave, Aegon"

Aegon grasped desperately at a reason to get her to just listen to him.

"Quelos, please." Her head snapped up, eyes locking with his. In them, a tenderness he'd not seen in years. He nearly sighed with relief at the sight of it.

"No one else calls me that."

Aegon approached her again, though he did not touch her this time.

"You are very like a star. In it's beauty and light. In is cold indifference and untouchable distance from mere mortals like me."

"I'm not indifferent to you." Y/N's reply was so instantaneous he scarcely caught it.

"What?"

"I said I'm not indifferent to you." Y/N was looking at him with such an affectionate expression, Aegon felt his heart was fit to burst. This was as close as she'd come to admitting she still held any feelings for him other than resentment at all.

"That's good. Because I find myself quite often overwhelmed with how much I feel for you. I always have an excruciating need to be near you. To talk to you, even when I have nothing to say. I think I have wished for you and nothing but you my whole life." He whispered the last, as if fearing that voicing his confession any louder would shatter this fragile understanding between them.

He hadn't realised how close he'd come towards Y/N, if he leant forward only a little their lips would touch. He also hadn't realised she was clutching his tunic, pulling him towards her even when she was trying so desperately to send him away.

"Are you telling the truth?" And for once Y/N looked insecure. Had she thought his feelings a lie after Driftmark or had she thought they would change?

"Yes, nuha quelos."

Her eyes widened. He'd never called her "his star" before.

Caught up in her beauty and the growing suspicion she might just feel the same for him, he made to kiss her only to have his head snap back violently when she slapped him.

"Seven hells! What are you? Dragon or girl?"

Holding his throbbing cheek, he relented in his anger as he looked up to see Y/N holding a hand over her mouth, her eyes alight with fear. He softened his voice, dropping his hand from his face so she didn't think she'd seriously hurt him.

"It's alright, Y/N. That was my fault. If you don't want me to kiss you, then I won't."

"But I did want you to kiss me."

Aegon blanked, then threw his hands up in confusion.

"Then why did you slap me, you infuriating woman?"

Y/N shuffled towards him sheepishly, tentatively raising a hand to stroke the red mark she'd left on his cheek.

"Since the day that you first kissed me...I have never been close like that with anyone else. I panicked."

Aegon held her hand in place over his cheek.

"Why?"

Y/n turned her gaze to the floor.

"I didn't want it with someone who wasn't you."

Aegon felt his heart stumble at her words. Smiling tenderly at her, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger to gently turn her gaze back to him.

"Good. I'd kill a man if I knew he'd touched you."

Y/N fixed him with a rueful glare.

"That's hardly fair. I'm supposed to be fine with you whoring yourself about the Red Keep, chasing after every skirt you see?"

Aegon smirked at her.

"So you do care?"

When she made to move away from him in annoyance, he quickly gathered her back into his arms, speaking affectionately to her to make up for his past deviances.

"It is you who has my heart. Who has always held it."

Y/N melted against him, though she still looked a little unsure.

"I don't know what to do."

Aegon stroked her cheek

"I'll teach you."

He leant down slowly, routinely searching her eyes for any doubt, any hint she didn't want him to kiss her. As she tilted her head up to meet his, he pressed their lips together. After a few moments, she began to respond, and it was just like it had been in their youth. Each brush of her lips against his felt like a fire burning through him and like a wound knitting together all at once. It didn't matter to him that she was inexperienced. He only wished he hadn't bothered kissing any other girl's lips. When she pulled away to catch her breath, he pressed their foreheads together, wanting to maintain this closeness between them.

"What did you write in your letters?"

Aegon chuckled at her sudden curiosity, entangling his fingers in her hair.

"Mostly, I was just begging you to forgive me for what I said at Driftmark, telling you I loved you and that I missed you."

Y/N stroked a hand across the plane of his chest.

"I missed you too."

Nuha quelos~my star

Quelos~star

Tagging:

@callsignwidow @lady-dragon-rider

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen oneshot #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen fanfiction #aegon the second #king aegon #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon

147 notes · View notes

all-purpose-dish-soap · 5 months ago

Text

50 / 820 words / for @keegansshark who converted me to the cult of Hesh <3

...

"Anyone sitting here?"

"Uh, no. Knock yourself out."

You sit down across from Hesh. The mess hall isn’t crowded yet. You have plenty of space. "So. About yesterday."

"Remind me,” he says. “It's been a long week."

You roll an orange in your palms. "I was just wondering. Do you want to?"

"Want to what?"

You stare at him, brows raised, curving your thumbnail into the rind until it dawns on him.

"Oh. That."

You've never seen him nervous, and most people wouldn't peg him as nervous right now. You can see it, though.

"I think so. Yeah. I mean, yeah." Hesh looks down at his tray. "I want to."

You begin peeling the skin off in one long strip. "Haven't had time?"

"I haven't, no. I've... you know... been focused on other things." Hesh takes a long swallow of water. “Military stuff."

"Dad stuff."

"Yeah. Dad stuff."

"You looking to change that?"

"Eventually."

"Hm." You dig your nail into a stubborn bit of orange skin. "But not yet?"

Hesh falters. His eyes flicker down to your hands. "The issue isn’t when I want to. It’s how.”

“Ah.”

“I've never actually dated. Or had a girlfriend. I don't know where to start."

"If you want to give it a shot, I can help you out."

Hesh blinks like he's not sure you meant what you just said. "You? Help me out with women?"

You snort. "Not with women. With sex."

Hesh's brow furrows. "What?"

"You said you’re interested in sex. I'll have sex with you if you want."

For several seconds, Hesh doesn't respond. Then he asks, "Why?"

You shrug and tilt your gaze to the side, glancing at the other soldiers in the cafeteria. They don't pay your conversation much attention. "Because this is No Man's Land. If you're waiting for a golden opportunity, you'll probably die before it comes along."

"No, I mean-- why not one of the other guys in our unit?"

"Pretty sure you could get one of them to do it for you if you prefer that. Keegan once told me about this one time when he--"

"No. No, I mean," Hesh says hastily, "why me? Why are you offering me, uh... what you're offering me?"

You peer at him. He doesn't look nervous, but the tips of his ears turn a darker shade of pink. You lean back and bite an orange slice in half. "Because you've never done it."

"Right. But, I mean, that's not a reason." Hesh pauses, searching for the right words. "You can't possibly be interested in me."

"We're friends, aren't we?"

Hesh glances away again. Friends is strong language for it. "Still."

"You want to know what's in it for me," you guess.

"Yes. I do." Hesh crosses his arms, waiting for you to speak. You pop an orange slice in your mouth and chew slowly. Then you peel away another two slices and begin stripping them of their stringy pulp. "Yeah, what is in it for you?"

"I mean, I’m no golden opportunity, but I’d feel sad if you died tomorrow never having known the touch of another person or whatever. Life sucks out here. We have to take small pleasures where we can get them." You pull a piece of rind out of your teeth and flick it into the pile of orange skins. "Something like that."

"So, out of pity."

At his deadpan look, a smirk spreads across your face. "If that's what you wanna call it. I don't make this offer to everyone, if that's what you're asking. It's Merrick's job to fuck the newbies, not mine."

Hesh's eyebrows shoot up.

"I'm kidding."

“Uh huh.” He's not sure how to feel. It's almost a relief that it's not about him, personally. It's not about him at all. Just No Man's Land. "Aren't there rules about that? Fraternizing, or... or whatever."

You tilt your head at him. It's a little funny to see him flustered. He has the whole act down, usually—refined, quiet, confident strength. Almost a perfect soldier. Lab-grown for the Ghosts.

“It's fine, Hesh, really. No big deal either way. You know where my bunk is if you change your mind.” You scoop orange peel scraps off the table. “You've got a night if you want it."

"Wait," Hesh says as you rise. "It's not that, it’s…”

As you walk away, Hesh barely quashes the sudden urge to stand up, back straight, like the goddamn president is leaving the mess hall. He's not even sure what he wants to say. There’s a strange desperation in his gut to keep the conversation from ending yet.

Instead, he watches you go and his stomach flips sideways.

You dump your orange peel into the compost and head for your bunk. Merrick sits at the fringe of the cafeteria. He looks at you, then at Hesh, and his brow creases in confusion. You shake your head as if to say nah, don't ask.

...

more call of duty: ghosts / masterlist tag

193 notes · View notes

qqueenofhades · 7 days ago

Note

Thank you for sharing your AG letter. I've emailed mine. We're a red state, but I'm hoping that this is a big enough deal that he'll listen. Appreciate your updates without being alarmist. <3

Yay! I'm glad to hear it. As noted, it is especially important for red-state folk to reach out/badger their local GOP, using whatever formulations of language will be the most effective. Pretend to be a conservative or at least couch it in conservative language. Whatever gets the message across.

Also, I made the original post in part because all the other posts about the situation were -- understandably, but still -- very much "the sky is falling NOW and we're all gonna die," and that is part of what I mean about perspective and taking the long view. The first few weeks are exactly when they are going to be pulling out the biggest and most dramatic fascist stops and testing the water to see what they can get away with. Part of that involves "triggering the libs" and whatever else their underdeveloped fascist incel brains think is fun. Playing into the "omg omg we are all doomed NOW" narrative is exactly what they want, deprives you of thinking logically and taking a breath and identifying what you can do to take control, and is going to be repeated a heckuva lot more as they try to bombard you into disassociation. Overall, it is probably a good idea to take 48 hours before really responding to/actually severely freaking out about something, to see what is going to be done and who is taking action on it and if it has already been sued and etc. So yes.

#mad-madam-m #ask #the national nightmare

69 notes · View notes

cheshiresense · 2 months ago

Text

Ok so I've actually gotten several asks about what Starrk's relationship with Unohana/the Fourth is/was like, but I don't have time atm to get into it, but I also want to toss out some of my headcanons about it because I've thought about it a lot, so I'll just list out a few headcanons in no particular order and get back to those asks later.

- First of all, Unohana is actually super protective of Starrk, but in a way that just confuses and/or scares people. Like she’s the sort to say dead serious no joke “my lieutenant is a gentle soul, you will answer to me if you upset him” while Starrk’s murdering his way across a battlefield and his reiatsu is eating a bunch of people for lunch 😂😂

- Unohana never thought she even had any protective instincts but Starrk just brings it out in her. At her age, with her experience, she can better sense just how old he actually is, just as she can sense-smell the amount of blood on him, so she knows he's lived a long time and killed a lot of people. But she can also tell he's not like her, he doesn't enjoy that sort of thing—when he kills, it's probably either because he has no choice or because he does it out of a sense of duty to whatever it is he believes in enough to fight for. Case in point, literally no one as powerful as she knows Starrk to be would choose to enter the Fourth with an honest interest in learning even more about healing than he already does. He's patient with even the weakest unseated Shinigami, and Unohana no longer has to personally come running every time the Eleventh decides to stop by to harass her officers because Starrk is there to stonewall them at the gates. But at the same time, the grief and loneliness she can sense in his reiatsu makes her want to shed blood because it never goes away. He can coax the shyest officers out of their shells with that no-pressure-calm he's constantly radiating, and for all that he'd prefer a nap over conversation any day of the week, he's also indulgent with members of his own squad when they ask him questions about a lecture or for a spar when he has time. He's reliable and steady and everything the Fourth needs him to be, with a reserved personality and a long-suffering air about him but careful hands and an even more careful mind in everything he does. And yet, hidden beneath all that, Unohana has never met anyone so constantly, miserably tired all the time. So yes, in her opinion, Starrk is a gentle, even fragile soul. She doesn't know - yet - what broke him so badly, but he's also hers now—she chose him, and he chose her, and she doesn't think she's imagining the way the Fourth feels stronger and stabler with his presence, with the easy way he shoulders the weight of a division right alongside her, with how their subordinates walk around with more confidence too in response to having two monsters watching over them now. For his competence as her second-in-command alone, she would've shielded him from anyone who upset him. But for the way he follows her around, genuinely eager to learn; for the way he sits with the younger officers and answers their questions and shows them new Kidou spells and treats them to snacks and protects them on missions; for the way he can stare down her Bankai without flinching and only grumble afterwards about how he deserves a week of sleep for such a hard spar but never even bat an eye when she reaches out to heal him with the very hands that had done their level best to rip him apart for several hours only minutes earlier; for the way he can give back just as good as he gets and allows her the chance to let herself off her own self-made leash every few weeks without having to hold back—for all of that and more, she would challenge anyone who dares try and force him to draw his blade against his will or break him any further than he already has been.

- I headcanon that for students who want to enter the Fourth, they have to take a separate written exam before they graduate. Results aren't great because there isn't actually much of a medical track at the Academy, plus it's generally considered uncool to end up at the Fourth, so there aren't many who would even take the exam, and of those who do, most can't even finish the entire thing, and minimum pass percentage is probably something like 50% lmao. At this point, it's less an exam and more an assessment of where the student is at so the Fourth's seated officers can sort the newcomers more easily when they have to start them on the basics. Then along comes Starrk who not only finishes the entire exam but also gets everything right, and it catches Unohana's attention enough to get her to make the trip to the Academy to speak to Starrk herself just to find out more, and the more she finds out, the more she thinks she'll finally be able to name a lieutenant with the kind of standards she's always wanted to be able to measure them by. At the end of the impromptu interview, she asks one more question—she asks him if he'd be willing to take one more test and become her official student. The lieutenant seat is his either way, but she's never had a personal student before. She won't be teaching him from scratch, which is a shame—someone with potential and a learning curve like Starrk's should've been scooped up long ago. But there's also more than just medical Kidou and surgical procedures she can pass on to him, and he may be a gentle soul, but he's a gentle soul with something he fiercely wants to protect, and that means there are other things she can teach him. He says yes, and that day, on the day they meet for the first time in any timeline, in a training room deep beneath the Academy, all seals activated for both privacy and containment, and even then they'd barely held—Unohana unseals her Bankai for the first time in centuries, and Starrk weathers every blow with the unyielding bedrock found beneath mountains and deserts and canyons and oceans, timeworn but timeless and enduring all the same. In the aftermath, both of them bleeding from multiple wounds with a good chunk of their reiatsu depleted, she thinks, yes, this one will be mine. He is strong enough to stand with me, tempered enough to be unafraid of me, old enough to have experienced the worst the world can offer, and wise enough to accept and bear it. And yet he remains... soft, at heart. Kind, in a way I do not fully understand, but it is precious nonetheless. It is something that should be protected. He is someone I can protect, so he will be mine.

- She'd prob also be like "let's get this signed and sealed before the old coot catches wind of another dual-wielding Shinigami and thinks he has first dibs just because he got the other two" 😂

- She would 1000% give Shunsui a shovel talk. It's probably the most terrifying shovel talk anyone has ever received in living memory ganbaa shunsui be brave you can do it.

- As for Starrk, he adores the fuck out of Unohana. But he’s also constantly baffled by how she kind of mothers him sometimes, in really off-putting ways (to others) but he doesn't realize that. Like the first time he goes out on a not-a-date with Shunsui, Unohana will be like "I wrote a dissertation called 101 Ways to Sterilize a Man, please read it over, I require urgent feedback" all while staring gloomy-eyed straight at a sweating Shunsui from behind Starrk's back because she'd watched this brat grow up, so she knows his skirt-chasing tendencies better than most, knows the way he likes beautiful people, likes flirting with them and charming them, likes the novelty of a new relationship and the thrill of the chase, and so she also knows the way it always ends with broken hearts but hardly ever his own. At most, he'll pout for a few days or a few weeks and mope and whine to Ukitake, and then he'll move on. He's always earnest and genuine in the moment, treats his lovers with all the respect and affection in the world when they're together, but he bores easily, and for all that he plays a good game of being open and friendly and approachable, Unohana has rarely met anyone more guarded when it comes to matters of the heart than Kyouraku Shunsui. He'd grown out of genuinely pursuing people in more recent decades, goes through the motions but no longer seems very interested in romance or even short dalliances, mostly only flirts these days with his long-time female acquaintances who all know better, but it would be easy for him to fall back into old habits. If he dares to be as careless with Starrk's heart as he'd been with previous lovers, Unohana won't stop until the Eighth Division will require a new captain.

- Starrk totally calls Unohana Shishou-san eventually. He has a thing for nicknames. Shunsui is of course Taichou-san. Shiina is Sensei-san. Unohana is Shishou-san. One person per category. It's an odd quirk of his.

#bleach #coyote starrk #unohana retsu #shunstarrk #ichigo & starrk time travel verse

111 notes · View notes