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#and then we went to the local fair
spacephrasing · 9 months
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guys guess what
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shocktreatment · 5 days
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sometimes i miss being a drive in theater fry cook because where else do you work alongside a scrawny white boy who tells you about how he's the reincarnation of both the sun god Ra and Aleister Crowley, explains the philosophy of Doom Patrol, and started smoking so that he could take really long smoke breaks
also another guy got fired for fucking his girlfriend in the portapotties when he was supposed to be working the projector
and there was the other guy who would collect all the leftover pizzas at the end of the night, smash them into a pizzaball, and people would bet that week's paycheck on whether he could keep it down.
he always ended up throwing up
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blujayonthewing · 1 year
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MOTH MUG MY BELOVED!!! AT LONG LAST!!!!
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radiojamming · 2 years
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Imagine the non-surprise when I tell people that the Edmund Fitzgerald was my first maritime obsession.
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timeisacephalopod · 11 months
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I saw a post the other day that kinda pushed back on the way all coming of age movies are about sexuality and all high school stories basically center around who wants to fuck who and how that's like. Not really all coming of age and high school stories should offer since you know. Youth isn't about who you have a crush on and probably coming of age stories in particular should be far more diverse in subject matter than they are.
Honestly as someone who, when I was 'coming of age' age, hated coming of age stories and still do for the exact reason listed above (see the weird scene in It where we all sexualize a 13 year old girl because boys have crushes and surely there's no other way to portray this than feeling a child up with a camera to demonstrate boys have ~feelings~ Bev gets no equivalent scene because she's the object of affection rather than the subject feeling desire) I also wish there was diversity in those stories. And coming of age stories about adults- we don't stop going through huge life moments that change everything forever, but back to kids. When I was a kid I could have desperately used a coming of age story where the character has a sick and dying parent who does die by the end of the story and what happens after that. Granted I did just fine without it, but even without being asexual it's always irked me that coming of age stories don't seem to appreciate that kids have way larger problems and way better stories to tell then first crushes and first kisses for shit sake give kids who went through what I did as a kid some kind of story about what happens when your parent gets cancer and how complicated that is and stop assuming the biggest thing that happens around puberty is discovering sexuality that, if you were queer, you probably already noticed what you felt wasn't in a coming of age story anyway.
#winters ramblings#id actually LOVE to see a coming of age story about an immigrant child moving to a new country#and have the coming of age center around THAT instead of these bizarre vaguely adult explorations of sexuality#that honestly ive never related to anyway like maybe the allos get it but even THEY deserve more diversity in stories#SURELY even your local allos have a dad dying of cancer they desperately need to know what to do with#like deadass a therapist told me at 26 i was robbed as a child because of what i went through and i STILL cry when i think of that#but no coming of age is all sex shit because children according to adults dont have real issues#which tells me adukts writing the stories are MASSIVELY privileged or stunted by execs or straight up assune kids wont watch#a REAL coming of age story. also i want a coming of age story about a 40 year old who is going through a career change#and the struggles that come with late career change. the benefits of a late career change. all the complicated family goo around all this#just give me decent stories that arent too focused on fycking RELATIONSHIPS for once. have them there sure i dont care#but for FUCK sakes can we stop pretending a 13 year olds biggest concern us who they have a crush on??#my dad was DEAD and i knew only one other person who lost her mom way younger than me at 8#we did not understand each other and how could we when our situations were so different. BOTH of us were so highly alienated#because NO ONE not even each other could relate to a lot if the people around us. the only thing we DID have in common#was the sick feeling we got when someone would bitch about their parents having fair expectations or not giving them literally everything#we both had an 'at least you HAVE parents to hokd you to reasonable standards and all you do is SQUANDER it' even if our feelings werent#faur to our peers anymore than their feelings were fair to us. wheres the coming of age story about THAT#tell me a story about a 16 year old whos mom has been dead HALF her life already like my friend. i was lucky enough not to deal with that#until i was 24. she deserved better out if high school and coming of age stories too. believe it or not kids have REAL lives and problems#and im SO tired of no one writing anything but some sad kids books about it even if the books are SOMETHING to start with#like for shit sakes must NICEthat the worst thing YOU went through was realizing you had a sexuality but my queer ass#ALWAYS knew i was different and highschool highlighted that a BUNCH so unless we're exploring aroace teens that doesnt appeal either#great yet ANOTHER story about straight teenagers because THEYRE the ones who need guidance on how to express themselves#like they dont see strsight people storoes and sexuality EVERYWHERE plus the ACTUAL opportunity to date in high school#that most queer kids dont get or dont get in the same way. why is THAT the only story being told when its the most saturated and BORING#and also ignores that kids have REAL issues and NO angency. explore THAT. do ANYTHING but yet another fucking coming of age story#about straight kids having crushes on each other and thats IT like come on SERIOUSLY
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rimouskis · 2 years
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I want a puppy SO bad. god I just want a little guy! but I know that it would be so completely life-altering and would create so many problems (with my now-frequent travel and having to find arrangements for dog care) and also my heart still belongs to our family dog, who is alive and doing okay ❤️ and I always said I wouldn't get a dog until our family no longer had one. it does NOT make sense for my lifestyle (or my current place of living) but.... I want a little guy 😭
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sixofravens-reads · 10 months
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Finished The Valley and the Flood! Glad I reread it, it really is a very poignant story about grief and trauma, mixed in with some fun Night Vale-esque fantasy/horror elements.
Moving onto Roadside Picnic by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky. Technically How to Make Friends with the Dark by Kathleen Glasgow is next on my list, but I'm already emotionally fragile and I don't think reading two books about grief back-to-back will help. Also, Roadside Picnic is a rare ebook, and I'm going to a work event tomorrow (okay, basically being dragged to a nightclub inside a rodeo/fair by my boss and coworkers) and it'll be nice to have something I can lowkey read as I wait until it's appropriate to leave.
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victory-cookies · 6 months
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me last week: okay I’m not gonna buy anything big for myself until Christmas. No item purchases, food and necessities only
me today: mmmmm items
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silhouettecrow · 8 months
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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 267
Adjective: Fair
Noun: Hair
Definitions for those who need/want them:
Fair: impartial and just, without favoritism or discrimination; just or appropriate in the circumstances; (archaic) (of a means or procedure) gentle, or not violent; (baseball) (of a batted ball) within the field of play marked by the first and third baselines; (baseball) pertaining to the fair part of the field; (of hair or complexion) light, or blond; (of a person) having a light complexion or blond hair; considerable though not outstanding in size or amount; moderately good though not outstandingly so; (of weather) fine and dry; (of the wind) favorable; (archaic) beautiful, or attractive; (of words, a speech, or a promise) false, despite being initially attractive or pleasing, or specious
Hair: any of the fine threadlike strands growing from the skin of humans, mammals, and some other animals; a fine threadlike strand growing from the epidermis of a plant, or forming part of a living cell; hairs collectively, especially those growing on a person's head; a very small quantity or extent
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Attempting a five mile outside run after a week of just soccer games w my bf and stretching…pray for me
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usedtobecooler · 2 years
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okay but what about virgin eddie being eager to please and the reader showing him the ropes and he’s just naturally so good at it :( i need it :(
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oh anon what are you doing to me!
part one // part two // part three // part four
Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), fingering f receiving, cumming in pants, corruption kink, reader really likes that eddie is a virgin, car sex, dubious content (i think? reader rubs up against him without consent?), dirty talk, lots of eddie being called pretty and handsome!!
Word Count | 2.8K
A/N | i really took this and ran with it, god damn!! virgin!eddie just does things to me the boy is SO corruptible. i need help, jesus and a nap after this.
You sort of knew he was at least inexperienced from the get go. You'd met working at the local record store and doing the late shifts together. You never missed the way he'd get so flustered any time you'd pay him a compliment.
'Eddie you look so nice today', 'wow Eddie you should wear your hair up more often it looks good', or when you'd greet him with a 'hey handsome' or 'hey pretty boy' and he'd stumble over his words and go beet red. You could tell he didn't really get chicks, it was obvious by the way that all he could talk about on Monday mornings were his D&D campaigns that he played with literal sophomores.
Twenty year olds who barely skim by to graduate after their third year repeat of senior year didn't get babes. He knew that, you knew that. But you were so attracted to him anyway, you got a sick thrill out of how easy it was to panic him and make him blush.
You gave Eddie a ride home from work every night, the trailer park was a fair few miles from the shop and his van went bust a few months prior so it was sat like an antique with grass growing around it just outside his front door. Wayne made a point of complaining about it a lot when you were in earshot.
'Either fix the damn thing or get the piece of crap towed away. I know we live in a trailer park but we sure as shit ain't tramps.'
So yeah. He wasn't necessarily a lady killer but he was just so pretty to look at and it made your stomach do funny jumps. He was so passionate too, he could talk for hours about his guitar or Lord of the Rings and he remembered every little detail. Soaked in everything you'd ever say and remember it for next time.
So sue you. You liked Eddie 'the freak' Munson who was just the sweetest, prettiest boy you'd ever met. And you needed to corrupt him.
You were subtle to begin with. When you'd shuffle by him in the store you'd make sure to get as close to him as possible as if the space was just too tight for anymore room. You'd lay a hand on his waist to brush past, lightly dance your fingers on his shoulder. 'Whoops, sorry' you'd say when your ass would brush past his dick, you'd pretend not to notice his flustered look and his stumbling words.
It all came to a head on one Saturday night as you were driving Eddie home. Dio's Holy Diver playing as background noise. You bonded over your love of the same bands too, you'd occasionally catch his eyes go all gooey when you'd talk about Metallica. You couldn't help but notice the ways his eyes would wander over your chest, where a band shirt would usually be sitting. The way he'd look at your legs in your fishnets and tight skirts. Stutter when you'd catch him and give him a wink.
But anyway, this particular Saturday you'd asked if he wanted to go to a fast food joint for some burgers before going home. You were, admittedly, starving after bailing on lunch in favour of helping Eddie with the new shipment of vinyl that had came in.
Eddie was a gentleman, offering to pay for the burgers since you'd been driving him home and who were you to refuse a free meal. He took them to go so you could drive to a place somewhere quiet and eat in silence.
You drove up to a spot you went to occasionally when you needed some time to sit and relax on your own. It was essentially an old junk yard full of shitty banger cars but nobody ever came out here and it was nice for watching the stars on a clear night.
You eat your burgers mostly in silence, both of you chomping down like you hadn't eaten in days. You're sat in a silky leopard print skirt, fishnets all torn around your inner thighs from them rubbing together all day. You sit really unladylike, legs open and comfortable.
You catch Eddie peaking again.
"Eddie, sweetheart, its only a pair of thighs." You say quietly, breaking the comfortable silence in favour of embarrassing him, "You see them everyday."
Eddie flusters a little, mouth still full of burger but he stops chewing and goes bright red, floundering for words, "S-sorry, uh, fuck I can't help but look. Your tights are all torn." He points out, motioning towards the large holes.
"Babe, you can't honestly tell me that's the reason you were looking," You say, balling up your fast food paper and tossing it in the back without looking, "you're trying to catch a glimpse of my princess parts."
A laugh bubbles out of your mouth at the use of those words, only using them to tease Eddie and his seemingly virginal ways. Worried if you call it a pussy he'll open the door and flee.
"Uh, eh, I wouldn't know much about that," Eddie cringes at his own words, he can't even look at you and it's just so endearing, "I can't say I've ever seen one."
You gawp a little bit. Taken aback by his confession.
"What do you mean, Eddie?" You ask, the teasing way in your voice only coming out just a smidge now, "You've never...?"
"God, don't make me say it, sweetheart," Eddie grimaces, tossing the last of his burger on the dashboard, hunger long forgotten at the embarrassing conversation, "I'm a twenty year old virgin. Laugh all you want, you should."
"I'm not gonna laugh," You say, all too quickly, "I just can't believe no girl, or guy maybe, has ever pinned you down and just ridden the shit out of you. You're really hot, Eddie. I mean, really hot."
Eddie's cheeks flush so dark they're almost purple and suddenly he's shuffling awkwardly in his seat next to you, like he's trying to cover himself from you.
"Hey pretty boy," Your voice is barely above a whisper now, you lean over and tug at his arm to get him to turn to you again, "I find that kinda... hot."
Eddie scoffs at that but lets you move his arm, your fingers beginning to dance down it, edging closer to his wrist, "Yeah, right. You don't have to lie to me I know it's ridiculous. Who the fuck is still a virgin at this age unless it's by choice?"
"Means you're all kinds of corruptible, handsome." You're not teasing anymore, bringing your hand further down to drag your fingers over his knuckles, "Makes me kinda hot and bothered."
"Oh, oh right," Eddie sucks in a breath and shudders, Jesus Christ this guy has no game and it's so fucking cute you're about to burst. Your cunt is twitching already just thinking about ruining him.
"Maybe I could show you the ropes? Y'know? How to touch a girl an' get her going?" You suggest, and you can see the goosebumps littering Eddie's arms, "Obviously so that when you find a girl you really like you can wow her."
A strangled little noise caught between a whimper and a sigh escapes Eddie's lips, his head thumps back against the headrest on his seat, displaying his gorgeous expanse of neck, the veins protruding in ways you can't ignore. Admittedly, he's already got you going without even having to touch you, and you know now that you're fucked.
"You gotta say yes or no, handsome. Just so I know you're into this and I'm not adding two plus two and getting five," Your voice is gentle as you finally grip hold of Eddie's wrist gently, dragging it over to rest on your inner thigh. His fingers flex on the skin, gripping ever so slightly, making you exhale a shaky little moan.
"I, uh, I would like to. But I'm gonna be shit, no point denying it," Eddie barks out a little sarcastic laugh, his brows furrowing together.
"Oh, honey," You giggle, "you're a guitar player. Those fingers already know what to do without me having to show them. I'll just tell you what to do, where to press, how fast I like it, how hard. Can you listen to me and do that?"
You chance a glance down at his crotch and can see the thick outline of his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. Your mouth practically starts salivating, already eager to know just exactly how it looks. In your daydreams it was big, but looking now in the dim light at his concealed erection, it was obvious just how big it truly was.
You get up from your seat, shuffling a little so you can swing a leg over and perch yourself in Eddie's lap, gasping a little when you sink down just enough to rub your cunt along his hardness. Eddie bites down on his lip, a strangled, breathy moan leaving him.
"This okay?" You ask, just to make sure, and he's nodding so fast he could get whiplash. You take ahold of Eddie's right hand again, sliding it under your skirt to let his palm rest lightly over your pussy, letting him feel the heat and the damp patch that's formed in your cotton panties so quickly, "You've done this to me already and you haven't even touched me yet."
"Really? Shit," Eddie looks up at you with wide brown eyes, like a deer caught in headlights. He's so eager, letting his fingers run over your clothed folds, dipping a finger in between experimentally and smiling a little when you moan, "Can I, uh, can I move your panties out of the way?"
"Go for it, handsome. Get a good feel." You're back to smirking again, but not for long when Eddie hooks two fingers into the elastic of your panties and pull them to the side, exposing your puffy little cunt to the cold air. You gasp when two hot fingers rub between your lips, catching on your clit just barely, "Okay, can you find where my clit is?"
Eddie nods eagerly, running his fingers back up and pressing on that little hard bundle of nerves, his cock twitching at the feeling of your slick in between his fingers, "There, right?" He asks, just to make sure, but it's obvious by the way you bite your lip and whine.
"Yes there, fuck, Eddie if you do good for me this really isn't gonna last long," You admit, throwing your head back a little, "just rub me there in small circles, I like it fast."
Eddie's fingers start to almost expertly rub you in circular motions, his calloused fingertips catching and dragging your clit in the most delicious way. You turn into a whining mess quite quickly, especially when his free hand comes up to grab at the meat of your thigh to hold you in place.
"God, handsome, you're really good at this, uh," You choke on your own tongue when he speeds up a little, "wanna use that free hand and slip your fingers in me?"
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, glossy eyes dancing a little, "you sure?"
You nod excitedly, knees buckling a little when you feel his hand come up under your skirt, the pads of two fingers swirling around your entrance. You can't believe he's never done this before, you half expected him to not even know where your hole was never mind anything else. He looks into your eyes, raising his brows a little in a silent question and you nod again.
Eddie sinks his fingers in all the way to the hilt immediately and it makes you gasp, the breach unexpected but certainly not unpleasant. A nice stretch, the cold of his thick rings on the rim of your cunt making you shiver, "Pump them in and out of me and try to find a, Jesus, a rhythm that matches your fingers on my clit."
"Does this feel good?" Eddie asks, and it's clearly meant to be in earnest but it sends hot flushes all up your spine, his long fingers beginning to pump in and out of you slowly.
"God, yeah, yeah it does, Eddie." You whine, hips having a mind of their own and helping him with the process, helping his fingers sink in and out, "Crook them a lil, you'll find a soft spot, kinda feels like a sponge."
Eddie's brows furrow together, his fingers starting to falter both inside of you and on your clit as he tries to find a rhythm. It comes back to him quickly, both of his fingers sunk deep in your cunt crooking ever so slightly and finding your gspot almost immediately.
You choke out a moan that sounds wet, like you're about to cry, "Fuck, right there, handsome. Keep doing that, m'gonna cum."
His fingers are heavenly dancing inside of you. His assault on your clit is hard and fast and soon enough you're so wet that you can feel it running out of you, probably slicking Eddie's hand, wrist and arm with creamy slick, "How does it feel for you, Eddie?"
You're looking at each other and the lust is apparent in Eddie's face, the way his brown doe eyes are hazily watching you, "Feels so good. Your pussy feels like heaven on my fingers, you're so tight."
"Fuck, dirty talking already are we?" You almost squeal, a hot flush taking over your whole body as you chase your orgasm, "Love hearing dirty words coming from your mouth about me, keep going."
Eddie leans forward, hot mouth kissing and sucking wetly at your tits, your collarbones, your neck, "Y'like that? Like my fingers in you? You're whining like a little slut."
You fucking lose it at being called a slut, the mixture of his hands, his mouth and the obscene slicking sounds coming from your cunt have your legs buckling, your stomach twisting as you reach your high, cumming so hard that your pussy constricts and grips at Eddie's fingers tightly, a loud moan slipping from your mouth, hands automatically coming up to grip at his curls as your hips fuck back and forth, riding out your orgasm.
You're sensitive, shivering a little as Eddie rubs you through the last of it, so you rest a gentle hand on his wrist to let him know to stop. He stops immediately, long fingers sliding out of your cunt slowly as not to startle you.
"Was - was that okay?" He asks, looking at you again with those gorgeous, stupid doe eyes, the nervousness back and apparent in his voice. You're all orgasm stupid, barely able to keep your eyes open, so you lean forward and smash your lips onto his, greedily lapping your way into his mouth with your tongue as a way of confirming it was good.
Eddie's big hands come to encircle around your waist, deepening the kiss. So, okay, he's not the best kisser just yet but you can show him that too. It's sloppy and wet and everything you need right this second.
Your hips begin to rub along the length of Eddie's still painfully hard cock straining in his pants, you put down enough weight to grind perfectly against him, your sensitive clit loving the friction of the thick denim running against it.
"Wha-" Eddie pulls away from your lips, confusion on his face turning to ecstasy, a moan escaping him. Fuck, he's so loud it's making you flutter.
"Was gonna try an' get a hand on your cock but that can be for another day," You hum, hips still gliding back and forth roughly, "wanna see you cum in your pants, though."
"Fuck, sweetheart, you have no idea what you're - uh, god - what you're doing to me," Eddie's whimpering, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, matting down his fringe, "m'gonna cum, shit, shit, I'm cumming."
You watch every bit of it, the way the veins in his neck pop, his eyes squeezing shut as he vibrates against you, fingers squeezing you so hard it'll bruise. Fuck, he's so pretty you want to die, you can't believe you're the first person to make him cum and you didn't even have to lay a hand on him.
When Eddie eventually opens his eyes, the blush is back on his cheeks, as if he's mortified by what he just did, "Damn, twenty years old and I just came in my pants like a teenager."
"It was hot, pretty boy," you sigh, leaning down to peck his lips, "I'll get a hand on you soon though, I need that thick cock everywhere on me."
He whines at that, hips bucking up of their own accord, "Fuck, you dunno what you're doing to me, sweetheart."
"Corrupting you, Eds. And you're gonna love every fucking minute."
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rootbeerworshiper · 2 months
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under the neon lights
chris sturniolo x fem!reader
based on these reqs: @inlovewithmattstur
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warnings: angst with a very fluffy ending! and not proofread lolz
love, sienna <3
you’ve been best friends with Chris since freshmen year and the two of you are quite literally attached at the hip.
ongoing jokes about the two of you being a couple were all too common, and you can’t even be suprised at these remarks because in reality you and him were incredibly close.
normal friends don’t hold hands constantly and fall sleep cuddling, normal friends don’t catch each other staring and cause the other to become flustered, normal friends don’t spend every waking moment thinking about the other—but that was your dynamic with the boy, confusing, complicated, and anything but normal.
you often slept over at his house, Chris was never one to like sleeping alone, insisting he sleeps better with another body in the bed—and you didn’t mind.
the problem with this weird dynamic is how badly you wish things were different.
you wish your highschool experience involved going to prom with him, with a corsage laying on your wrist and a boy to kiss your hand as he greets you.
every night you imagine what it would feel like to be loved publicly, for someone to not shut up about how much they love you.
it’s impossible not to imagine cute dates and tiny acts of pda that actually mean the world.
you want romance—but instead your in love with your best friend.
on this particular night the two of you spent your time watching old videos from highschool—some more embarrassing than others.
“oh my god i cannot believe i wore that to school what was i doing?” your shocked expression causes him to laugh, his arm wrapped around your shoulder while your own arm wraps around his waist. “okay okay that’s enough of that let’s move on please” you practically cry out out of embarrassment, the boy just throwing his head back in a fit of laughter you can feel on your arm.
“i don’t think it was that bad” he says in between laughs. “to be fair i rotated the same five pairs of sweats every week so i can’t talk”
“our style just took a second to develop that’s for sure” you smile, squeezing Chris’ side slightly before relaxing into the touch once more.
the two of you continue scrolling through old snapchat memories and failed vlogs, laughing practically on repeat for an hour, the only thing lighting the room was the light illuminating from his phone.
“holy shit how is it two am already?” you sit up slightly, caught off guard by how fast time went by with your favourite person.
he smiles slightly, as if a lightbulb just entered his head. “wanna do something?” he asks, looking up at you with a look that can convince you to do anything, a look that consistently fills your stomach with butterflies that you consciously ignore.
“like what? last time i checked, neither of us have our license and Matt’s sleeping” you reply, unsure where he’s going with this. you toy with his fingers, tracing along the length of each once while he begins to speak.
“we could walk to the gas station that’s right over here, like we used to do during covid” he says, eyes focused on your hands as you continue playing with his fingers—what you don’t know is how incredibly much he cherishes your touch, like electricity is running through your connected fingers.
you smile at the memory of you and Chris back in Boston, sneaking out at three am to sit at the skatepark and eat the food purchased at the local gas station. “sure, i’ve missed that”
so the two you make your way out of bed, and you throw on one of Chris’ hoodies before joining him in quietly making your way out of the house—not wanting to wake up either of his brothers.
the walk is peaceful, streets illuminated by warm coloured street lamps and a bright moonlight that showcases the many stars littered across the black sky—for a moment it feels like your back in Boston.
Chris always insists on having background music, so your shared playlist played softly from the phone in his pocket as you walk along the sidewalks.
not a lot is said on the walk to the familiar gas station, and not a ton needed to be said, comfortable silence filling the space between two bodies as the neon lights from the convenience store light up your face a fluorescent white shade.
you enter the shop—Chris holding the door open for you and following shortly behind you as you head straight to the drink section.
the boy settles on a sweet tea and you yourself decide on a white monster. “do we want any snacks?” you ask, shutting the door to the commercial fridge.
“i could fuck up a nerds rope and some cool ranch doritos” he replies, causing you to smile because once again, it felt like old times, his snack decision hitting you with a wave of nostalgia.
and so you get just that, two of each snack that’s now stored in a small plastic bag that Chris holds as he once again opens the door for you to exit.
you ultimately decide to just sit outside the gas station, bright lights illuminating the tops of your heads as you sit down and begin to pull out the snacks—Chris’ music still playing quietly in the background.
“are you getting major deja vu or is that just me?” you ask, ripping open a bag of your favourite doritos as the boy takes a sip of his iced tea.
“one hundred percent but to be very fair we’ve done this exact thing like a hundred times” he laughs softly, a laugh that never fails to bring you serenity.
it’s silent again, the only noises to be heard are the rap songs playing from the iphone that lies on the cement and the crumbing of your dorito bags.
“i’m really happy we’re still friends, i don’t know who i’d be without you” Chris speaks up, gaze fixated on the gas pumps ahead of you.
you laugh at the sudden switch in tone, looking in his direction only to be met with his side profile, that alone causes the speed of your heartbeat to pickup. “way to get sappy all of a sudden”
“i just appreciate you that’s all” he looks to you now, meeting your gaze, making an eye contact with you that feels different than normal, maybe more intentional.
his gaze now switches from your eyes to a lower portion of your face, eyes making contact with your lips while your own eyes scan his face for any telling emotions.
“Chris stop looking at me like that” you try and joke, turning your gaze away to see his eyes still just as fixated on you as before.
“why? what if i just wanna admire my best friend?” he says softly, licking his lips and coating a thin layer of glistening saliva over them—but immediately his choice of words put you off.
this is a game you’ve played with him before. his overt friendliness that comes off as incredibly flirty and your hopeless romantic tendencies conflicting and instantly making things weird between the two of you.
“i’m not doing this with you i-“ you choose to stop speaking, already felling the pit in your stomach that is fighting back the urge to let out a sob.
normal friendships aren’t this hard.
his eyebrows immediately furrow, showing off his insane amount of cluelessness as you take a deep breath, allowing the dry, night dazed air to enter your lungs. “y/n i don’t understand what’s happening right now, are you okay?” he says, his voiced laced with a sense of concern.
“no i’m not okay!” you stand up, dusting your hands off on your sweats biting your lip to suppress any sadness dwelling. he stands up too, but still containing an innocence in his eyes that drives you insane.
“i can’t keep doing this!” you cry out. at this point you’ve given up on caring about weird looks from the cashier or other cars driving by, overtaken by pure anger that’s been smoking within you, ready to explode at any moment.
“doing what y/n? speak to me” he replies, concern overtaking his delicate face as he walks ever so slightly closer to you, subconsciously hoping to make you feel better.
but you pull away immediately, keeping a safe distance between you and the brunette. “whatever the fuck this is Chris” you motion between you and the boy with your hands. “you can’t keep looking at me and expect me not to feel something for you! it’s not fair that you say the most butterfly inducing shit and follow it up with ‘my best friend’. what am i supposed to do with that?”
every thought you’ve had about this friendship pours out of your mouth as tears well up in your eyes, threatening to pour out at any moment.
“i’m sorry i gave you the wrong impression i never meant to-“
“fuck off Chris. seriously fuck off. i don’t need to hear you reject me. i don’t want to have feelings for you. this would all be easier if i didn’t, i think we just need space” you begin to turn away from him, grabbing your things off the paved entrance.
you muster up the courage to say one last thing before walking away, a shakiness overtaking your bottom lip. “i shouldn’t have expected this to be any different. i should’ve known that this is just the way you are and i shouldn’t have been so stupid.”
a wet tear trails down your cheek, guiding alongside your nose as you speak. “was any of it ever real?”
it’s clear that by ‘any of it’ you’re referring to the romance you felt spark between the two of you, even he knows that—but he stays.
he stays exactly where he is and his mouth remains shut.
“i hope we can figure out our shit but right now i’m done. with you, with this. done.” with that you walk away, your back facing the boy as you increase the speed of your steps, eager to leave this shitty situation.
his heart drops at this. the last thing he wants is space. he adores you and he doesn’t want your friendship to be put on pause for any reason.
he wants to be able to tell you that he likes you in that way too. that every time silence fills the space between you he fights the urge to kiss you. and that he can’t help but think of you anytime someone asks if he’s single because for whatever reason when he’s with you he feels everything but alone.
he’d kill to grab your hand, to stop you from walking away and tell you how obsessed with you he is, but it’s not that simple—nothing about this relationship is.
deep down Chris knows exactly what you want.
you want a relationship. you want to go on dates and hold hands in public and put a label on how you feel for one another—that couldn’t be further from what he wants.
which is why he stands there—the neon lights reflecting in his teary eyes as your back faces him, as you leave him there all alone with his thoughts.
to him it all happened so fast, like a car spinning out of control, slipping on ice until it meets its untimely demise. this was all out of his control, and what was he supposed to do?
commitment is terrifying.
going on dates and posting each other on important anniversaries was his nightmare for so long, the idea of that being genuinely off putting.
but the idea of never having you in his life again?
the idea of not hearing you laugh at his stupid jokes, clutching your stomach with a huge grin on your face or listening to your calm, patterned breaths as he falls asleep next to you?
that was so much worse.
all of a sudden everything clicks.
he was in love with you.
he is in love with you.
all this time he knew you were different than other friends, but his feelings towards you weren’t something he was conscious of.
but it makes sense now, why he got all flustered whenever you teased him, why you had so much power over him in ways that were embarrassing.
the realization hits him like a brick, his feet planted onto the pavement below him, his mind unable to think about anything else but you.
but you’re gone. in the time that it took Chris to figure out his conflicting thoughts you had walked back to the house, fully prepared to sleep on the couch and gave Matt drive you home first thing in the morning.
it can’t be over like this, you can’t be over like this.
so he runs, like a fucking idiot he leaves behind his snacks placed against the conscience store wall and he runs.
you continue walking down the street, nothing but soft sobs escaping your shivering mouth as you think about every memory of Chris you cherished so close to your heart.
like when he wrote you letters telling you how happy he was that you were in his life, folded up and placed in an envelope. you were one of few people that were able to read his messy handwriting, but based on his proper punctuation and attention to writing his words more clearly, it was obvious he took his time. for you.
or that time when you went to the fair with him—the kid hates rides, hates them. but he also knows just how much you love them, so that night he swallowed his fear, holding your hand and going on every ride with you so that you wouldn’t be alone.
or the forehead kisses he would give you as you worked through a difficult assignment in school, his soft words of motivation that got you to graduation.
in what world is that casual?
you roll your eyes at his previous statement. he just gave you ‘the wrong impression’ as if what he did could have been interpreted in literally any other way.
you’re too caught up in your own thoughts, trying to find an answer to the never ending puzzle that is Chris Sturniolo to even notice the footsteps behind you, the pace slowing as they get closer to you.
until they stop. “y/n” Chris speaks, clearly out of breath.
before you even turn around you roll your eyes. “i just wanna sleep, can we talk about this another time please? i cant keep thinking about it”
the hand that’s softly placed on your shoulder tells you otherwise, so you turn around, now facing Chris who looks like he’s on the verge of tears.
once he catches his breath he looks at you with pleading eyes. “can i just speak?”
you nod, biting your lip to avoid any more snide comments, it’s clear he cares, that much you can give him.
he takes one more deep breath, as if he’s about to run a marathon with his voice. “i was confused. i was confused and i was so stupid and i don’t know what i was thinking”
you just stand there at look at him, wiping away your tears as he speaks. “it was all real, all of it. i just got so scared because it all felt too real. i just-“ his voice is shaky, and it’s evident that he’s holding back tears.
“you have always been more than a friend to me. this whole time i’ve been so completely obsessed with you and everything about you and i haven’t been able to think straight because every time i look at you i have to stop myself from kissing you” he runs his hand through his soft hair, struggling to look at you when he speaks.
he inhaled another breath, the air shakily filling his lungs. “but i never did, mostly because i didn’t think i was good enough for you. you deserve someone so amazing and caring and romantic and everyday i wondered if i’d ever get there. i wanted to get there so bad because i wanted you. i’m not a relationship kind of guy” he sniffles. “i mean i’ve barely even been on a real date and i’m twenty years old”
he shakes his head, trying his best to get his point across. “but none of that matters when i look at you because everytime i see you it all goes away. every fear of commitment and- and realness goes away.” tears creep out of his blue eyes, but he’s quick to wipe them away with his palms. “god y/n i’m so fucking in love with you that the thought of you walking away from me made my heart hurt”
you’ve never seen him this vulnerable before. sure, he was always honest with you, but right now he just looks so- hopeless.
he finishes speaking, shaking out his hands slightly as if to relieve tension that formed in his joints as he spoke.
you’re not entirely sure what to say, so you don’t speak, instead pulling the boy into a much needed hug, burying your face into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist.
he doesn’t react at first, in shock initially at the sudden closeness, but it doesn’t take long for him to pull you in impossibly closer to him, one hand placed on your back and another on the back of your head.
he rests his face on the top of your head, practically burying his lips in your hair as his hand rubs your back.
you pull out slightly, keeping your arms on his side as you look at him, one last tear crawling down your cheek.
immediately his hands comes to your face, cupping your jawline while his thumb wipes away the tear drop. “why are you crying now?” he furrows his eyebrows, a slight playfulness to his tone.
you giggle, leaning into his touch. “i think these are happy tears now”
“well it’s a good thing you look beautiful even you cry” he smiles softly, holding eye contact with you as you look up at him.
“yeah why’s that?” you tease.
he leans in slightly closer, mumbling slightly as he speaks. “because i’d really like to kiss you now”
your heart flutters at this, and everything feels good again. you have Chris and that’s all you need. “what’s taking you so long?” you smile, the boy immediately leaning in fully and attaching his lips to yours carefully.
his hand still rests on your cheek, only deepening the kiss further before you start smiling, causing him to pull back as you widen your eyes.
“what was that for?” he laughs softly.
“i’m gonna sound like the corniest mother fucker if i say what i’m thinking so i’m just gonna kiss you again” you smile, leaving back in once more, if you weren’t already obsessed with him you definitely are now.
it’s a short lived kiss, the two of you are exhausted at this point, but it still means everything to you.
he wraps his arm around your shoulder now, pulling you into a side hug and kissing the top of your head. “i think after my whole ‘i’m in love with you’ monologue i take the prize for corniest fucker”
you laugh, beginning to walk down the poorly lit street. “never though i’d see the day, Christopher Owen Sturniolo is a cheese ball”
“okay that’s enough of that i’m going back to the gas station” he jokingly turns away before you pull him back to you again.
“i like it when your corny, it’s hot” you mumble, causing the boy to pause in his steps, his arm still around you.
“guess i’ll have to do it more often then yeah?” words that simple shouldn’t have the effect on you that they do, but you’re a smiling mess regardless.
“yeah”
a/n: had no idea how to end this LMAOO hopefully it fulfilled some of your needs for angst
i tried so hard to make chris accurate but i don’t know the man like that💔
taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @s7urnfilms @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @sturnioloslurps @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys
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the0doreslover · 7 months
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Obliviously in love | t.n
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it’s not that you were dumb, not at all.
you were just… oblivious.
To be fair some people would call you dumb but not for the same reasons they would oblivious.
Theodore nott had his eye on you from the moment you slumped in his charms class in year two.
There almost wasn’t a single person who didn’t know of theodore’s attraction towards you.
Almost
You must of been the most blind witch ever.
Theodore gave you answers?
“you’re such a good friend”
Theodore wanted to take you to hogsmede?
“sure let’s ask everyone if they want to join”
Theodore wanted you to meet his mother?
“family is important of course i will”
Here you were in your fifth year still with no ounce of knowledge that theodore nott was still hopelessly inlove with you.
“good morning, nice to see you finally up” pansy snickered watching as you rubbed your eyes and took a seat next to theodore
“it’s still too early for your voice pansy” you sighed
you looked at theodore who was making a plate of food. “can you pass me a plate please pansy”
“no need, this is for you” theodore finally spoke
“oh! thank you theo”
“by the way i was thinking we should go to hogsmede today” he smiled turning to face you
“sure, pansy would you like to joi-“
“just us!” he quickly added
“oh, yeah sure” you smiled confused at the smirk pansy was giving you.
you and Theodore finally began your way to Hogsmeade together after finally getting out of pansys gossip session,
you remained blissfully unaware of theo’s true intentions. The two of you strolled down the cobblestone streets, the village bustling with students and locals enjoying their weekend.
Theodore casually slipped his arm around your shoulder as you walked, his fingers grazing gently against your arm. You simply shrugged it off, thinking it was a friendly gesture to ward off the chilly autumn air.
you went into various shops, while Theodore finally managed to stop your swinging arms and hold your hand, his fingers interlocking with yours. You assumed it was simply because he didn’t want to loose you, and you continued chatting away about your favorite books and Quidditch teams, completely oblivious to his racing heartbeat.
Theo's attempts grew bolder as you entered the Three Broomsticks for a warm butterbeer. He slid into the seat beside you at a cozy corner table, his knee brushing against yours. Still, you regarded it as nothing more than accidental contact.
As you sipped your butterbeer and chatted, Theodore couldn't help but steal glances at you, searching for any sign that you might reciprocate his feelings.
You were in the middle of talking about your plans for the holiday when a familiar trio entered the pub. Draco, Blaise, and Pansy, strolled in with smiles on their faces as they spotted you and Theodore sitting together.
You waved enthusiastically, calling them over.
Pansy exchanged a knowing look with the boys before they sauntered over to your table. Draco grinned mischievously, taking a seat opposite you and Theodore. Blaise and Pansy flanked either side of Draco, creating an oddly symmetrical arrangement.
Draco leaned in," i didn't know you and Theo were on such an intimate outing."
You blinked in confusion, glancing at Theodore, who looked both embarrassed and hopeful. It Finally dawned on you that perhaps there was more to this outing than you initially thought.
Pansy chimed in with a sly grin, "Oh, don't mind us, we're just here to witness this romantic moment."
Blaise added, "Yeah, we wouldn't want to intrude on your 'date.'"
The room seemed to close in on you as the realization hit. Theodore had been trying to express his feelings for you all day, and you'd been completely oblivious. A wave of guilt and embarrassment washed over you, making your face turn bright red.
You mumbled an excuse about needing to use the restroom, and with a quick, apologetic look at Theodore, you hurriedly got up and practically ran out of the Three Broomsticks.
coming to a halt a sense of embarrassment washed over you. You realized it was silly to have run away like that, especially from Theodore, who had been nothing but kind and patient with you.
Turning around to retrace your steps and face the awkward situation you'd created, you suddenly bumped into Theodore's chest. Startled, you took a step back, "I'm so sorry, Theo, I didn't mean to—"
Theodore interrupted your apology with a warm chuckle. "It's okay, really. No need to apologize."
You sighed, looking down at the ground and then back up at him. "I... I just realized how stupid I've been all this time, not seeing what was literally infront of me."
Theodore's gaze softened as he listened to you.
You continued, your words coming out in a rush, "All those times you wanted to spend time with me, I thought it was just friendship, but now... I see that you've been trying to tell me how you feel."
Theodore simply stared at you
“the time you wanted me to meet your mother— oh god! i told you ‘family is important’ i’m so stupid”
Finally, you paused upon noticing his gaze, and he asked, "Are you done?"
You nodded.
Theodore grinned. "Well then, let me show you in a different way." And before you could react, he kissed you, his lips meeting yours with a gentle warmth that sent shivers down your spine.
As you pulled away, breathless, he whispered against your lips, "I would wait three more lifetimes if it meant you would kiss me like that, but for now i’m just happy i’ve finally got you"
You couldn't help but smile at his words, and without another moment's hesitation, you leaned in and kissed him again.
“This means you are asking me to be your girlfriend right?”
“right” he laughed
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blujayonthewing · 11 months
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just back from a short anniversary excursion and I wanna a) sleep for a week b) do absolutely nothing but play zoldo c) go through vacation odds n ends and pics we took and think about putting together the scrapbook page(s) for this trip in the ADVENTURE SCRAPBOOK Justin got for our anniversary d) think about dnd and maybe do some art e) did I mention sleeping
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bowtiepastabitch · 5 months
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Historical Analysis: class and injustice in 'The Ressurrectionists' minisode
Alternate title: why we're tempted to be upset with Aziraphale and why that's only halfway fair
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Okay so first off huge thanks to @makewayforbigcrossducks for asking the question (and follow-up questions lol) that brought me to put these thoughts all together into a little history nerd ramble. That question being, Why is Aziraphale so clueless? Obviously, from a plot perspective, we know we need to learn some lessons about human moral dilemmas and injustices. But from a character perspective? A lot of this minisode is about Aziraphale being forced to confront the flaws of heavenly logic. This whole idea that "poverty is ineffable" basically boils down to 'yeah some people are poor, but their souls can be saved just as if not more easily that way, so it's not our problem and they probably deserve it anyway for not working hard enough,' a perspective that persists in many modern religious circles. Aziraphale isn't looking at the human factor here, he's pretty much purely concerned about the dichotomy of good and wicked human behavior and the spiritual consequences thereof, because that's what he's been told to believe. His whole goal is to "show her the error of her ways." He believes, quite wholeheartedly, that he's helping her in the long run.
"the lower you start, the more opportunities you have"
So here's what we're asking ourselves: Why did it take him so bloody long to realize how stupid that is? Sure, he's willing to excuse all kinds of things in the name of ineffability, but if someone in the year of our lord 2023 told me he was just now realizing that homelessness was bad after experiencing the past two centuries, I'd be resisting the urge to get violent even if he WAS played by Michael Sheen.
Historical context: a new type of poverty
Prior to the 19th century (1800s), poverty was a very different animal from what we deal with now. The lowest classes went through a dynamic change leading up to the industrial revolution, with proto-industrialization already moving people into more manufacture-focused tasks and rapid urbanization as a result of increasingly unlivable conditions for rural peasantry. The enclosure of common lands and tennancies by wealthy landowners for the more profitable sheep raising displaced lots of families, and in combination with poor harvests and rising rents, many people were driven to cities to seek out new ways of eeking out a living.
Before this, your ability to eat largely would have depended on the harvest in your local area. This can, for our purposes, be read as: you're really only a miracle away from being able to survive the winter. Juxtapose this, then, with the relatively new conundrum of an unhoused urban poor population. Now if you want to eat, you need money itself, no exceptions, unless you want to steal food. Charity at the time was often just as much harm as good, nearly always tied deeply up in religious attitudes and a stronger desire to proselytize than improve quality of lie. As a young woman, finding work in a city is going to be incredibly difficult, especially if you're not clean and proper enough to present as a housemaid or other service laborer. As such, Elspeth turns to body snatching to try to make a better life for herself and Wee Morag. She's out of options and she knows it.
You know who doesn't know that? Aziraphale.
The rise of capitalism
The biggest piece of the puzzle which Aziraphale is missing here is that he hasn't quite caught onto the concept of capitalism yet. To him, human professions are just silly little tasks, and she should be able to support herself if she just tried. Bookselling, weaving, farming, these are all just things humans do, in his mind. He suggests these things as options because it hasn't occurred to him yet that Elspeth is doing this out of desperation, but he also just doesn't grasp the concept of capital. Crowley does, he thinks it's hilarious, but Aziraphale is just confused as to why these occupations aren't genuine options. Farming in particular, as briefly touched on above, was formerly carried out largely on common land, tennancies, or on family plots, and land-as-capital is an emerging concept in this period of time (previously, landowners acted more like local lords than modern landlords). Aziraphale just isn't picking up on the fact that money itself is the root issue.
Even when he realizes that he fucked up by soup-ifying the corpse, he doesn't offer to give them money but rather to help dig up another body. He still isn't processing the systemic issues at play (poverty) merely what's been immediately presented to him (corpses), and this is, from my perspective, half a result of his tunnel-vision on morality and half of his inability to process this new mode of human suffering.
Half a conclusion and other thoughts
So we bring ourselves back around to the question of Aziraphale's cluelessness. Aziraphale is, as an individual, consistently behind on the times. He likes doing things a certain way and rarely changes his methodology unless someone forces his hand. Even with the best intentions, his ability to help in this minisode is hindered by two points: 1)his continued adherance to heavenly dogma 2)his inability to process the changing nature of human society. His strongest desire at any point is to ensure that good is carried out, an objective good as defined by heavenly values, and while I think it's one of his biggest character hangups, I also can't totally blame him for clinging to the only identity given to him or for worrying about something that is, as an ethereal being, a very real concern. Unfortunately, he also lacks an understanding of the actual human needs that present themselves. Where Elspeth knows that what she needs is money, Aziraphale doesn't seem to process that money is the only solution to the immediate problem. This is in part probably because a century prior the needs of the poor were much simpler, and thus miraculous assistance would never have interfered with 'the virtues of poverty'. (You can make someone's crops grow, and they'll eat well, but giving someone money actually changes their economic status.) Thus, his actions in this episode illustrate the intersection of heavenly guidelines with a weak understanding of modern structures.
This especially makes sense with his response to being told to give her money. Our angel is many things, but I would never peg him as having any attachment to his money. He's not hesitant because he doesn't want to part with it, he's hesitant because he's still scared it's the wrong thing to do in this scenario. He really is trying to be good and helpful. So yes, we're justifiably pretty miffed to see him so blatantly unaware and damaging. He definitely holds a lot of responsibility for the genuine tragedy of this minisode, and I think Crowley pointing out that it's 'different when you knew them' is an extremely important moment for Aziraphale's relationship with humanity. Up until now, he's done a pretty good job insulating himself from the capacity of humans for nastiness, his seeming naivity at the Bastille being case in point.
In the end, I think Aziraphale's role in this minisode is incredibly complex, especially within its historical context. He's obstinate and clueless but also deeply concerned with spiritual wellbeing (which is, to Aziraphale, simply wellbeing) and doing the right thing to be helpful. While it's easy to allow tiny Crowley (my beloved) to eclipse the tragic nature and moral complexity of this minisode, I think in the end it's just as important to long-term character development as 'A Companion to Owls'. We saw him make the right choice with Job's children, and now we see him make the wrong choice. And that's a thing people do sometimes, a thing humans do.
~~~
also tagging @ineffabildaddy, @kimberellaroo, and @raining-stars-somewhere-else whose comments on the original post were invaluable in helping me organize my thoughts and feelings about this topic. They also provided great insight that, in my opinion, is worth going and reading for yourself, even if it didn't factor into my final analysis/judgement.
If I missed anything or you have additional thoughts, please please share!!! <3
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yellowpsyduck · 4 months
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𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮
Thomas Shelby x Reader
Warning: Smut
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Her dress was white like the Arctic Snow. 
Her cheeks were red like the Chrysler Imperial. 
A glance was all it took for one to deduce that Y/N Elliot stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the sea of greys in the grimy streets of Birmingham. 
With her short tight curls and her eyes that seemed untinged with the horrors that plagued the notorious English town, she was a sight to behold. 
Mr. Elliot was the preacher at the local Presbyterian Church, but his daughter evoked the urge to sin in the minds of the lads of the town.
 And again, a glance was all it took for one to fixate upon this seemingly other worldly apparition that roamed the streets of Birmingham with her teasing smile and her plump red lips. 
And Thomas Michael Shelby was no exception. 
Soon the occasional glances that he threw her way should they ever cross paths turned into waiting by the front of her house to escort her to finishing school, much to the dismay of the girl’s father. 
The young Elliot girl was infatuated with the older man. The boys that previously courted her couldn’t hold a candle to his suave. With his cigarettes and his well pressed suits, Tommy Shelby was simply a dream come true for the impressionable girl. 
She couldn’t care less about her parents’ disapproval of their relation, nor did she care about what the towns folk had to say. 
‘He loves me, and I love him and that’s all that matters’ she assured herself each night. 
The two soon became inseparable, the leader of the Peaky blinders even barged inside the school and pulled his darling out of the classroom simply because he ‘missed’ her. The teachers and staff knew better than to obstruct the infamous gangster. 
The two went to the fair that day. He bought her all the dainty little trinkets that her heart desired. She didn’t go easy on the spending too; she knew his pockets wouldn’t hurt from her silly purchases. 
And for his kind generosity, she rewarded him with her first kiss. 
A simple kiss on the lips; that’s how it started but it soon turned heated and passionate. 
It goes without saying that she lost her purity to him, right in the backseat of the black Ford. 
Still clad in her school attire, she sat on his lap with his hands encircling her lithe waist. 
He left a trail of kisses down her exposed collarbone, his hands working to unbutton her shirt which her mother had carefully pressed that morning. 
The chemise underneath soon found itself discarded on the floor of the vehicle. 
Her pink coloured bra was on full display for him. The more conservatively fashioned fabric did little to hide the fullness of the plump breasts underneath. 
Her breath was shallow as she looked at him with those beautiful doe eyes of hers. 
Her cheeks tinted with arousal and her eyes misty with desire. 
She was a sight to behold as she guided his hand to cup her left breast, telling him that she was ready. 
Tommy couldn’t contain himself any longer and his fingers found themselves unclasping the fabric that shielded her modesty. He sucked with urgency on her perky nipples while he kneaded the other, giving equal attention to both of those glorious mounds. 
Y/N was a squirming mess. She loved the feeling of his hot mouth as he showered her with his touch.  
She could feel her panties dampen with each passing second. No boy had ever made her this hot and bothered. 
She needed more of him. She needed his touch. 
Tommy could feel the wetness on his thighs as the girl began grinding herself on his thighs. 
“Eager, aren’t we?” he teased with a raspy drawl. 
God! This girl was driving him crazy. 
He continued trailing his kisses down her stomach and halted at the waistband of her skirt. 
He swiftly tossed the heavy garment aside along with her garter and knickers. 
She was on full display for him. For him and his eyes only. 
He couldn’t peel his eyes off her body. 
She had bewitched him.  
Sure, Thomas Shelby had been with his fair share of women before her, but he had never felt so strongly for any woman before, nor did he think he could ever. 
Not after this. 
Not after her. 
His thumb slid across her clit, eliciting a beautiful moan from her. 
Gently, he prodded her glistening hole with a finger. 
She was too tight. 
He thrusted his finger inside her as she coated him in her lewd liquid. 
Now two fingers. 
He was thrusting her insides with just two fingers, yet it completely filled her up. 
She was a panting mess. 
She could feel his now bulging erection poking against her bare butt. 
Just as she could find her release, he extracted his fingers from the throbbing pussy, making her cry in desperation. 
“Tommy please.” she purred as she met his pale blue irises. She was a whimpering, desperate mess. 
“Just a minute darling.” he assured her as he hurriedly unbuckled his belt and freed his pulsating swollen cock. 
Y/N wasn’t sure how he was going to fit his fat cock inside her tight pussy, but she didn’t care anymore. All she wanted was for him to fill her up and make love to her. 
He carefully lined his cock that was leaking with precum to her entrance and gently entered her hole.  
Just the tip was in and even then, Y/N was threatening to spill teardrops from her lustful eyes. 
“It’ll only hurt for a second, Darling.” he whispered in her ear as he forced himself inside of her virgin cunt. 
Y/N was seeing stars. 
Oh! The pain and the pleasure; both feelings intertwined as she felt him thrusting inside of her giving rise to this otherworldly feeling of ecstasy. 
Tommy couldn’t control himself inside of her as he pounded into her. 
Her tight pussy was driving him mad with pleasure. 
He could see the scarlet testament of her purity flowing down her thighs as he corrupted her innocence. 
She was his. 
No one else’s. 
The two continued their lovemaking, completely engulfed in the throngs of their union.  
That night, as they lay in the meadow on the English countryside, with his hands around her and her head on his chest, they looked up at the sky that bear witness to their passions.  
And that faithful day, Thomas Shelby made a woman out of Y/N Elliot. 
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