#and frankly if they were just given the chance they could make the relationships seem organic and well developed

[loaksky]

— 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒕 | 𝒆. 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔

collegefwb!ellie x fem college!reader, angst, hurt / minimal comfort, wc: 3.5k

synopsis: you and ellie were a disaster waiting to happen.

content warnings: language, unforgivably mean!ellie (like atrociously mean, this is a REAL warning), toxic situationships / past relationships, brief mentions of sex, side comment about slipandslide, reader experiences loss, internalized grief and mentions of drunk driving / car accidents. please let me know if i miss anything, this one might be a lot !

author’s note: re-posted this after noticing it wasn’t showing in tags! also noticed some of the tlou community requesting some angst gigglegiggle. perhaps this will lead to a second-chance romance expansion in the future…leave your thoughts heh <3 as always, not proofread well!

tagging @vigskrt, don’t hate me for no happy ending this time around </3 i have plans to build this into a full fic ;)

YOUR FRIENDS HAD WARNED YOU.

They’d told you that Ellie Williams wasn’t shit. She was damaged goods and you were willing to pay the price even if it meant a shattered heart broken into a million unmendable pieces.

You’d given her the benefit of the doubt, had held out hope for the first little while of whatever it was between the two of you. You liked to believe that Ellie was tamping down unprocessed emotions, but she’d been adamant that it was all just good fun.

And you were willing to let it go, willing to take it all in stride if it meant having her in any way she’d give herself to you, but you were splintering glass waiting to give any second.

You’ll never forget the night you crumble.

She says it so casually, like she’s making observations about the weather or the swathes of setting skies. You’re sitting on her couch, basking in whatever remnants of the afterglow remains. Because, frankly, if there’s one thing Ellie Williams is good at, it’s pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you.

She’s across the living room, finishing off the blunt you’d politely declined, watching the slow glide of her goldfish in the tank on her console.

“M’bored,” she says simply.

You shift on your side of the couch, watching as she flicks ash in the nearby ashtray.

“You wanna go out?” you offer, glancing at the sunset outside of her window. “We could—”

She huffs out a humorless laugh, takes an extra long pull before stubbing the roach out and turns to face you. Her black tank top is riding up and you blanche when you see the fresh hickey a little south of her belly button.

You definitely hadn’t given it to her, but you aren’t in the mood to argue at the moment.

“I’m bored,” she repeats. “Of this. Whatever this is.”

You breathe out at nervous laugh.

“Oh c’mon, Els.” You stand from the couch, try to close in on her, but she’s shrugging you off as your hands come out to reach for her.

“I’m serious,” she says, tone bland and gaze glazed, equal parts from disinterest and the high kicking in. “It was fun at first, but this is starting to feel like a chore.”

Your chest tightens, tongue drying as you search her face for any tell.

“I don’t understand,” you murmur. “Where’s this coming from?”

Ellie shrugs.

“I’m just bored and this isn’t doing it for me.”

You’ve been wondering why it seemed like she was anywhere else but present the last dozen moments you’ve spent with her. It was always her half-assed agreements of seeing you when you called. Or less than enthusiastic spans of time where she’d seemed annoyed when you weren’t sated after the first comedown and quietly begged for more.

“Is there… Is there someone else?” you swallow. ���If there’s someone else, it’s okay. I’ll—”

Ellie barks a mean laugh.

“You’re naive if you think you’re the only one,” she says, and it’s a nasty confirmation of the suspicions you’d had the entirety of your situationship with the girl.

“Why are you doing this?” you whimper, fingers reaching to tangle with hers.

“Fuck, I’m not high enough for this,” Ellie grumbles to herself as she watches your threads unravel.

“You wanna stop seeing me because you’re bored?” you heave. “You wanna stop this ‘cause you’re bored? Ellie, what the fuck?”

“I said it twice already,” she bites, snatching her fingers from your grasp. “And honestly, I’m over all of this. I’m over the clinginess, the neediness, the hope.”

Your breath catches hard in your throat and Ellie’s eyes meet yours for the first time since her declaration.

“Your friends talk, you know?” she says simply. “They beg me to put you out of your misery, say that you’re a great girl for me.”

And you like to think you are. You like to think that Ellie’d learned to love you the way you loved her; unconditionally, passionately, and in her own fucked up way. But you’d obviously been grossly mistaken.

“Am I not?” you whisper. “You mean the world to me, Ellie. I’d do anything for you. I–I lo—”

“Don’t.” She cuts you off sharply. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“Ellie, I love you.”

And the silence is palpable. Tag-teams the tears that choke you as you wear your heart on your sleeve.

She sighs deep, scrubs her palms down her face as she screws her eyes shut.

“God, why do you have to make things so fucking difficult?” she groans.

“Me?” you choke incredulously. “We’ve been dancing around these feelings for a year, Ellie! You turn a blind eye, act like we won’t work when all it’d take is just a leap of faith. Why can’t you have faith in me, Els?”

She rolls her eyes, crosses the living room into her bedroom to collect your clothes off her floor.

“This is why we wouldn’t work,” she’d grunts as she stuffs everything into your backpack. “Because you think you know me, think you know how I feel, what I think, what I want. You don’t know me. You know what I let you and we fuck. That’s it.”

Your body shakes hard with emotion, bones vibrating with unshed tears.

“You’re lying,” you accuse. “You’re fucking lying because you’re scared.”

“Oh, fuck off with the shit, ________, please,” Ellie scoffs, shoving your backpack in your arms.

“It’s okay to be scared,” you argue desperately, reaching for her again. “I get it, this is new for you and it’s a lot to process and—”

“We agreed that this was just a good time,” Ellie says, nudging your arm away. “And right now, this isn’t really feeling like a good time. This feels like you trying to fix me, but I’m not going to change. Not for anyone and especially not for you.”

It’s a brutal stab at your feelings and it makes you sick. Because Ellie’s always known. She’d entertained this whole endeavor knowing you were head over heels and there wasn’t a chance in hell she would reciprocate.

“We don’t have to stop seeing each other, Els,” you try, taking in a shuddering breath. “Just— Just give us a shot. We can work through it and—”

“What’s not fucking clicking?” Ellie cuts you off with a pinched expression. “You’re not my fuckin’ therapist, not my girlfriend, and definitely won’t be anything more than a decent lay. I’m not doing this shit with you anymore. Seriously. Have some self-respect.”

The look of annoyance that crosses her face makes you feel like your feelings are the ultimate burden. And the sob that wracks your body rattles you so hard you cough till you feel like your lungs will dissolve.

It’s absolutely fucking humiliating, the way that Ellie grimaces like this is the most inconveniencing thing in her life as of late.

“Dude, just go,” she says sharply, steering you towards the front door. “Block me, I don’t care, just please let this shit go.”

“You’re actually the biggest piece of shit I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing in my life.”

Ellie barely catches the statement, bulky headphones fitted over her auburn hair, but Dina’s brisk movements towards her catches her attention.

It’d be been a week since she’d last seen you, and quite frankly she’d been relatively surprised that you’d heeded her word about leaving her alone. She’d almost been home free. Almost.

“If this is about your friend—”

“Like hell it is,” Dina scoffs. “Are you serious? I can believe you said all that shit to her.”

“I mean, you warned her, didn’t you?” Ellie shrugs her shoulders, hooking her thumbs through her backpack straps. “Sounds like you should be bitching at her for not listening instead of me for keeping it pushing.”

And Ellie almost lets the irritation bubble over, but the look on Dina’s face has shifted, has her swallowing down whatever residual snark is concocting in the back of her brain.

“She’s devastated, Ellie.”

And it’s the same song and dance, Ellie knows it all too well, the bouts of sadness followed by the niggling feeling of numbness. She’s usually nonchalant, doesn’t feel any moral obligation to tie up any loose ends, but she feels the closest thing to guilt when she sees the genuine concern in your friend’s expression.

“Look, I’m sorry she got her feelings hurt, okay?” Ellie sighs defensively. “But everyone knew what this was going in and I can’t be the only asshole here for keeping it real.”

And of course she can’t take accountability, can’t admit that maybe she’d been too harsh on someone as sweet as you.

“Honestly, fuck you. I don’t know why I’m still fucking friends with you,” Dina whispers.

Ellie rolls her eyes.

“C’mon, D, you serious right now?”

“You hurt her so bad she won’t even eat,” Dina says quietly. “All she ever wanted was to make you happy, Ellie. The least you could’ve done was let her down easy.”

“This is fuckin’ bullshit,” she grunts to herself.

“No, Ellie, your attitude is fucking bullshit, your whole fucking outlook on life,” Dina says stonily, shrugging her shoulders and taking a step away. “But I guess you get hurt once, you hurt a hundred times, right?”

“D, don’t—”

“Whatever.” Dina waves her off. “Apologize, don’t apologize, I don’t fucking care.”

After nearly two weeks of trying to mend the wounds Ellie had left, you get the call. It’s during midterms and you feel like the world is splintering.

Your younger sister had been driving home on the way from her shift when she was struck. She’d been pronounced at the scene and you take the first flight back home.

And you don’t know how to feel. Don’t know how to sort through the nasty mix of emotions that threaten to peel you from the inside out and disintegrate you. Losing Ellie was one thing, losing your youngest sister is like cruel fate.

It doesn’t hit you until after the service. When you’re sitting in her bedroom, combing through her admittance letters and thumbing through old family albums. You land on a particularly devastating photograph. One where she’d finally surpassed you in height and she’d leaned down to kiss your cheek.

The tears are spilling as you turn the page and you see collages of holidays, birthdays, and vacations. The one that sends you over the edge is the most recent.

It’d been spring break and your family had gone tubing. The two of you had drifted off and your mother was able to capture the perfect photo of the two of you with your heads thrown back in laughter.

If you recall correctly, you’d confided in her about your troubles with Ellie and, in an attempt to make you feel better, she’d cracked a joke so funny it made you laugh like things could be okay.

In the first moment that every emotion hits you full force and your sister isn’t there to be your rock, she’s there to catch your falling pieces.

Abby Anderson’s a childhood friend, grew up in the same cul-de-sac and moved the opposite way for university. News of your sister’s death had her making the five hour drive and offering you some semblance of comfort in a familiar face.

The two of you sit in silence as you hold the photo album to your chest and cry until your throat is raw and your eyes are nearly swollen shut. Her palm is warm between your shoulder blades, a gentle anchor in the roiling storm.

Ellie’s stoned out of her mind when she pays your dorm a visit a couple of weeks later. The apology’s long overdue, but she’d been too busy sparking up and getting lost in other people to shake the claws you’ve seemingly sunk into her brain.

It’s half past midnight on a Tuesday when she delivers three hard raps against room 202. Another three when no one answers the first time around.

She finally hears shuffling after the third set and the door swings forcefully before the fourth. And it’s definitely not you.

“Y’know it’s almost one AM and a majority of this building has class in the morning, right?”

Ellie’s posture straightens.

“Hello?”

Ellie doesn’t recognize this girl at all, does a double take to make sure she’s got the right room.

“________,” she says. “She around?”

The girl’s face screws up.

“Who?”

Ellie repeats your name.

“Oh, her,” the girl mutters groggily. “She pulled out of school a couple of weeks ago. Whole floor was scrambling to get reassigned to her room.”

“She what?” Ellie balks.

“She dropped out, I guess, I dunno,” the girl shrugs. “All I know was that the school psych handed us pamphlets about mental health and shit after she left.”

If anyone has any information on you, they won’t budge. And Ellie realizes it’s equal parts for your protection and her punishment. She’d been a nervous fucking wreck the remainder of the semester, couldn’t stop searching every corner of the internet for you, but it seems like maybe that night really does click because she’s blocked on every single platform imaginable.

She’d started smoking more, started fucking less, actually showed up to class. Her brain was practically numb a majority of the time, anxiety eating away during her short bouts of sobriety.

And god, if she had to admit that she’d learned her fucking lesson, had to admit that losing you was agonizing, she would if it meant seeing you again. Even from a distance.

Because she’ll be honest for once in admitting that she fucking misses you. Misses you so much it’s disgusting. And she doesn’t miss the way you make her feel, or the sex, or any of the things you offer her, she misses you.

Craves to see your sunny smile, yearns to feel the way your body nestles perfectly against hers. And your laugh, god your laugh, boisterous and consuming. She’d always told you it was obnoxious, but nothing could crack a smile faster than you throwing your entire body away from her and cackling till you wheeze.

And this is more traumatizing than any previous relationship that made her swear off love altogether. Your disappearance and your absence makes her feel like she’s going insane, like she’s grasping at straws to keep it together.

Mercifully, the semester ends, but summer oozes like viscous torture. And when fall sem of senior year rolls around, she holds out on hope, just needs to tell you that she knows she fucked up and she’s sorry.

But fall is quiet. Winter is quieter and the holidays feel mundane even surrounded by her loved ones.

“Everything okay at school, kiddo?” Joel’s never been one to poke around, just a silent supporter in the midst of Ellie’s growing pains.

Ellie nods, leaning over the railing.

“S’alright,” she shrugs. “It’s school.”

Joel ponders for a moment, looks like he doesn’t want to pry, but his youngest is his soft spot.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” he drawls softly. “I know you better than you think. Know that something’s botherin’ you.”

Ellie hesitates, but decides to bite back her fears. It’s the least she could do for you.

“You ever hurt someone so bad you don’t know how to fix it?” she swallows.

Joel takes in a deep breath, then takes Ellie in.

“You want an honest answer?”

“Please,” she breathes.

“Sometimes you just have to deal with the repercussions of hurting somebody,” Joel says. “Closure is always nice but never guaranteed and the lack thereof is your punishment.”

It does feel an awful lot like punishment, Ellie thinks.

And Ellie learns that the universe can be unforgivable.

Learns as much when she catches a glimpse of you at the campus bookstore when all the students return from winter break.

She nearly drops her stack of books, scurries across the store in half as many strides before her fingers are wrapping around your bicep.

“Holy shit,” she whispers. “It’s actually you.”

You’d been caught so off guard, you barely process the emotions that begin to filter through you, especially when she engulfs you in a bone-crushing hug and rocks you like she’ll never let you go.

“I can’t breathe,” you squeak, hands snaking between your bodies to give her a gentle push.

“Sorry, fuck, I’m sorry,” Ellie blabbers. “For that, for everything, for—”

“It’s, uh, it’s fine,” you say cooly and Ellie’s staring like you’ve sprouted two heads.

Because it’s absolutely not fine. You’d left school for a year and returned looking like a whole new person. Your cheeks are hollow, eyebags prominent, lips chapped. It’s like the past eight months has sucked the life out of you.

“Christ, are you serious right now?” Ellie asks incredulously.

She doesn’t realize how many emotions she’d kept pent up until her vision is clouding and your expression is falling.

“I broke your fucking heart and you scared the shit out of me when you disappeared and I— I thought— I…”

Ellie’s chest is tightening and she feels like she’s gonna throw up when you let out a short breath.

“What, you thought I offed myself?” you ask with a hollow laugh.

“I don’t know what I fucking thought,” Ellie’s voice cracks, and it’s the most emotion you’ve seen from her in the time you’ve known her. “All I knew was that one minute I was seeing you almost everyday and then suddenly, you fell off the face of the Earth and I’d never missed someone so much in my life and I fucking hated every single moment—”

“My little sister passed,” you say simply.

And fuck, she doesn’t expect that.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “You definitely fucked me up but there was a lot more to me leaving.”

“Jesus, I’m so sorry, I—”

“Everything okay?” A tall, buff blonde interjects.

It’s subtle, the way the girl’s palm slides to gently fit between your shoulder blades and Ellie’s going rigid.

“Yeah,” you respond, smile soft and familiar.

Ellie’d been on the receiving end once upon a time, and she nearly retches when you shift closer to the girl.

“This is Ellie,” you introduce. “An old classmate.”

The girl gives Ellie a once over, then a pensive smile.

“You ready to check out?” she asks you.

Ellie watches as you give her the upper level philosophy textbook and thinks that it’s fitting, your area of study.

“I’ll be up in a second, just gonna say bye,” you assure her.

She’s gazing down at you for a moment too long, lips curling into a wider smile as she nods in understanding and Ellie has to stop herself from recoiling.

Old habits die hard because she’s picking a fight despite her better judgment.

“So, I’ve been worried fucking sick over you for the past year but you were with someone else this entire—”

“Don’t do that, Ellie,” you say softly. “We’re friends. She helped me a lot through losing Dev.”

“If you called—”

“If I called, what, Ellie?” you ask seriously, but not unkindly.

You’re fed up, frankly.

“I would’ve been there,” Ellie says firmly, then whispers, “I would’ve fucking been there.”

“Would you have really?” you breathe a short laugh through your nose. “Last time we spoke I told you I loved you and you told me to have some self-respect.”

Ellie winces.

“I’ve thought about it,” she swallows.

You only blink up at her.

“It’s all I could think about since last spring, but…” she trails off, searches your face for courage because she’s so fucking scared. “What you said, the last time we spoke.”

“I said a lot of things,” you reply candidly.

“That we could work through it if I gave us a shot,” Ellie murmurs, running her fingers through her overgrown hair. “And I know I’m late—”

“Yeah, no shit,” you say flatly and Ellie flinches.

“But I want us to work and—”

“No.”

And the wind’s knocked from her lungs, makes her stomach wrench.

“And it’s not because I don’t love you anymore,” you say gently. “But because losing Dev taught me to love myself more.”

Ellie’s throat bobs.

“I can’t keep cutting myself down to accept what you feel like giving me,” you say. “Because I won’t take you having me one hundred percent and deciding to give me 10 on the days when the going gets tough. And don’t say you won’t because we’ve already done that shit with no labels.”

Being absolutely read makes Ellie feel infinitely more like shit because she’s never heard such a sound declaration of your unbridled feelings.

“I’m not losing you again,” Ellie whispers vehemently.

“You don’t have to,” you say softly, visibly withdrawing from the conversation. “I’ll always be in your corner rooting for you. But I can’t give you anymore than that. I won’t.”

“Wait, please, I—”

“I gotta go,” you say, peeling away. “Abby’s waiting.”

“Babe, c’mon.”

“I’ll see you around, Ellie,” you bid her, sparing her one final glance. “Take care of yourself.”

neng©️2023

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams au

[genuspsittrichas]

Sfw and nsfw boyfriend headcannons for albedo, Baizhu and Dottore ? Plz

After a very long hiatus I finally am publishing my drafts, sorry about all that personal biz that kept me from actively writing and posting. I plan to keep posting and writing as I am now in possession of more free time.

Warnings: nsfw below the cut, PDA, jealousy, GN reader

SFW Boyfriend HC's

Albedo

As a boyfriend, Albedo is incredibly caring and sweet, he knows that he may come off a little cold im so funny and he wants to ensure that you know he doesn’t feel that way towards you

He loves to cuddle with you, and frankly just wants to be touching you if at all possible

Long and deep conversations about anything and everything that piques his interest or yours are a staple of a relationship with Albedo

When you aren’t around for Albedo to cuddle and talk to he’s always thinking about you, about how you looked when you laughed at a joke, what you said to him before you left, the outfit you were wearing, and you in general

He might even begin a spontaneous project to capture your likeness in a sketch or painting if he has the time

When you get back he might act like he didn’t spend all day thinking about the moment you would get back but kiss him and he will fall apart eagerly telling you about everything he did and discovered in the day.

Baizhu

Ever the doctor Baizhu might find himself a little too worried about your wellbeing

He will always check in on you and your physical, mental, or even spiritual health he only wants the best for you and does anything he possibly can to preserve that balance and health

Baizhu adores talking to you about various problems he encounters. He enjoys speaking about things with you and the way you listen to him and reassure him or help him if he needs it

Baizhu isn’t the kind of person who loves PDA; he might hold your hand or give you a chaste kiss on your cheek or hand while in public. Even though he doesn’t touch you constantly he relishes in every moment that you are touching

In private his demeanor seems to switch on a dime, he adores touching you, a random kiss as he passes you, stroking your hair, massaging your shoulders or arms, anything he can get his hands on really

When you two aren’t together Baizhu buries himself in his work or finds something to distract himself from your absence

His mind might wander every so often to you, missing your presence and the comfort that it provides him, but he easily turns to his work to pass the time by until he can see you again.

Dottore

Dottore as a boyfriend is quite different from his working personality. Gone is the eccentric scientist persona that he seems to assume as a harbinger, he retains some of his eccentricity but is a much softer person

He likes to lay on the floor for random intervals either contemplating a new project or sleeping. He adores it when you join him for these sessions loving that you choose to be with him

Thanks to his job he is in public a majority of the time and he never misses the chance to have you with him. He loves to flaunt you to other people, showing off his amazing partner and ensuring that the world knows that you are his

Dottore is also a very jealous protective boyfriend, if he catches someone flirting with you or looking at you with the slightest hint of affection he pounces. The poor schmuck who decided to turn their eyes towards you is now gifted with an incredibly imposing harbinger staring them down and possibly already brandishing some kind of weapon he had hidden somewhere

When he’s alone he is usually on some kind of mission that you weren’t allowed on and is entirely consumed by his work. 

But he still thinks of you whenever he is given the chance, and if he sees something he thinks you’d like he buys it without a second thought. No price is too much when you’re involved, and seeing you happy is all that matters to him no penny pinching bank miser could make him use money responsibly if your name is attached to it NSFW BELOW THE CUT

NSFW Boyfriend HC's Warnings: Rough fucking, roleplay, ropes, lmk if i need to add more

Albedo

Albedo while sweet at all other times becomes a freak in the sheets

The man in into almost anything you could possibly think of or he’d be willing to try anything, whether it's for observation or scientific “study”

Albedo who would go crazy for watching you work yourself on him as he sits back to enjoy the show

He would 100% draw you like one of his french girls in a favorite pose or position of his and completely in the nude

He’s more of a laid back type of person prefers to be a dominant bottom, sitting back and ordering you to move this way or that

As he nears his climax you can count on him gripping your hips or desperately clinging to your shoulders and rocking you on him

He would probably try to get a grip on any part of your body to better rut into you and at the “perfect” pace

Would definitely be down to roleplay with you i mean look at him

Baizhu

A gentle lover, Baizhu is not the type for rough sex unless you specifically request it from him

Baizhu would want to ensure that both you and him are feeling good throughout and would try his hardest to make sure you’re feeling good

He would be extremely cognizant of whether or not he's hurting you if he's thrusting too hard or making you uncomfortable

Baizhu is good with his hands i mean he spends his days gathering herbs and mixing medicines

Despite his sickliness Baizhu can still be a rough lover and as he nears his climax that definitely comes out

Baizhu would chase his own release unforgivingly, thrusting you into the mattress or whatever surface you happen to be bent over as he feels his climax nearing

Baizhu is the aftercare king, he checks in on you gently massaging any scratches or bruises he left behind in the heat of the moment

Cleans you up lovingly with a towel before carrying you into a bath hes drawn and tends to you until you fall asleep in his arms or end up doing more fucking

Dottore

Ever the scholar Dottore would be willing to try anything with and for you no matter how kinky or different from the norm it is 

He would be the type to vent his stresses through fucking, bullying you into the mattresses or simply bending you over and taking you wherever he finds the  most convenient

Dottore would chase his own release with reckless abandon

Dottore likes to have complete control over your shared bedroom activities, whether that involves being on top, keeping his hands on any part of your body, or tying you up so he can work his own magic

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #fanfiction #wow i need to start fixing my posting schedules on my socials aha #genshin #baizhu #albedo headcannons #baizhu headcanons #baizhu x reader #albedo fluff #dottore headcannons #dottore fluff #dottore x reader #dottore smut

[local-ground-apple]

clown

In which Sebek in order to cope with his feelings towards certain human, decides to get you together with Silver

You were confused.

Silver was also confused.

Meanwhile Sebek was confused that his desperate attempts were shattered by the two of you.

However, Lilia wasn’t confused and he promptly organized a special-secret-meeting-without-Sebek (sadly, Malleus wasn’t invited, since he wasn’t even aware of the current situation). Oh, how you wished to be blissfully unaware of it as well.

,,Guys, I think Sebek is freaking insane”

You whispered, not wanting to make any unnecessary noise. Despite Lilia’s assurance that Sebek was currently out studying in the library, you didn’t want to take any chances given the topic of today’s meeting.

,,And you noticed it just now?”

Silver retorted nonchalantly, earning an eye roll from you. Meanwhile Lilia was pouring some tea for all of you with a small, yet playful smile on his lips, which told you that he knew exactly what was Sebek’s problem this time. The way amusement was visible in Diasomnia’s vice-house warden clearly showed that he knew the root cause of Zigvolt’s weird behavior recently.

,,I mean, he was always a clown, but nowadays? He’s the clowniest clown ever. Something changed, but I can’t pinpoint his intentions”

You calmly stated, playing with the hem of the tablecloth. Silver didn’t really look that worried or surprised; after all in his eyes Sebek has always been some sort of clown. It was quite alright to disregard this situation. However, you seemed a bit concerned. You furrowed your eyebrows, pondering for a moment.

It’s not like you and Sebek were close friends. Frankly, you weren’t even sure if you could call your bizarre relationship a friendship? Perhaps, you were just colleagues or acquaintances. You couldn’t tell, since Sebek was hard to analyze.

Your first meeting ended in you two loosing your tempers and screaming at each other over some trivial matter. Then, you both got paired for the class project, that resulted in more ungodly yelling and arguing. Sebek thought that after that catastrophe of the project, you two would part your ways never to speak again. Oh, how wrong was he. You and Silver got along splendidly, so you became a frequent guest in Diasomnia, which irked Sebek who was always picking up a fight with you.

Then he spotted you reading and appreciating his favorite book, then one time you managed to calm down the horses that were scared of him for no reason, then you were impressed at him when he lifted heavy things…

And suddenly and magically, Sebek tried not to yell in your presence.

Or at least, not to yell at you specifically.

Which made you concerned for his sanity. Perhaps, you were losing him.

,,Leave him be. It’s Sebek after all, there’s no point in analyzing his behavior”

Silver stated, yawning, clearly bored with the topic of the conversation. Yet, you weren’t one to give up. Your eyes flickered and landed on Lilia who looked as if he was having time of his live. He was clearly enjoying your distress over the whole situation.

,,He is acting weird, right? I’m not going insane?”

You asked, staring at Lilia. He could hear in the tone of your voice that you were getting impatient and you were anticipating the confirmation. He let out an amused chuckle, before finally giving you a response.

,,My, my, yes. Poor Sebek has something on his mind that it’s troubling him and he doesn’t know how to deal with it”

“It’s concerning Malleus, isn’t it?”

Silver snickered, not bothering to open his eyes. You were sure that in the span of next 10 minutes, he would be asleep and peacefully napping, ignoring Sebek-situation. You rolled your eyes once again, prodding the man sitting next to you.

,,If it concerned Malleus, I would invite him here. The matter concerns two of you, Y/N more precisely”

You almost choked on your tea and Silver opened his eyes in surprise. You two had never expected that perhaps you two were the cause behind Sebek’s antics. Lilia signed heavily.

,,My, you two are really oblivious. Sebek has been trying to get you two together and so far, he is failing splendidly”

Now Silver was wide awake and clearly in shock, while you were left speechless. Although, with this explanation a lot of things began to make sense.

Sebek's first failed attempt

,,Human.”

Sebek’s oddly calm and not-so-loud voice startled you. You jumped slightly in surprise, raising one eyebrow questioningly. It wasn’t normal. Usually you would hear Sebek from a kilometer before noticing his presence.

,,Hmm, what it is?”

You asked, smiling in his direction. If you paid more attention, you would notice the way his cheeks slightly blushed and how he avoided direct eye contact, given his embarrassment. Unfortunately, you were blind and oblivious, especially when it came to this loud guy.

,, What do you think of Silver?”

Now, you were totally caught off guard.

It wasn’t your Sebek, Sebek that you knew.

You furrowed your eyebrows, squinting your eyes, eyeing him suspiciously. Yet, he refused to even look at you. He appeared a tad bit nervous, hesitant even to ask such question. Normally, Sebek was loud, honest and well, quite confident in whatever the hell he was screaming about.

,,He is a dear friend of mine”

You stated, not expecting another question that followed right behind. Sebek clenched his fists, taking a deep breath before he spoke once again.

,,Do you think Lilia-sama would give you his hand in marriage?”

Needless to say, you choked on your water.

Sebek's second failed attempt

,,Where are you dragging me now, huh?”

You asked softly. You were way too tired to be dealing with Sebek’s antics today. Yet, this knight was relentless and he wasn’t the type to give up easily.

,,Y-you will see, Human!”

If you were more observant, you would notice how his voice slightly trembled and how nervous he looked. Sebek felt as if he was about to combust from his conflicted emotions. The grip on your wrist felt firm, yet not painful. You could feel that his hand was slightly trembling.

If you paid more attention to Sebek's flushed cheeks, you would figure out that this man was nervous from the sheer proximity to you.

Yet, you were blind and oblivious human.

Sebek dragged you through almost entire Diasomnia dorm, firmly holding your wrist. You had to almost run to keep up with his pace. he was leading you through dark and unknown hallways, various stairs till you reached the highest tower in the dormitory.

You were, once again, confused.

,,Why are we here?”

You asked him, raising one of your eyebrows. You didn't expect to end up in such place. Sebek seemed even more nervous. Now, his face was red and a scowl appeared on his lips. He didn't dare to look into your eyes and he felt like his heart would explode in any second.

,,You ask too many questions, Human! Talk!”

Sebek exclaimed before he pushed you into the room. You abruptly turned on your heel after gaining some balance, yet he slammed the door right in front of your face.

You did not appreciate such treatment.

,,Sebek! You bloody idiot! Open the goddamn door, you…you clown!”

You screamed in frustration and surprise. Suddenly, you could feel your blood pressure rising abruptly. You pulled on the door handle violently, yet it didn't budge. So you opted on slamming your fists on the door, while cursing Sebek in your mind.

,,Not until you two talk out some things”

You heard his nervous voice, before you heard him leaving in hurry. Great, and now he was leaving you here for god-knows-how-long. You wanted to scream in frustration, as you hated closed spaces. Yet, his words make you wonder.

,,Two, what do you mean?”

,,Y/N, stop screaming, my head is killing me”

You jumped startled by the sleepy and tired voice sounding right behind you.

You simply couldn’t believe that Sebek locked you here with Silver.

Sebek's third failed attempt

Sebek couldn't take it anymore.

He wanted to scream in pure frustrated. Everything was perfect and carefully planned before hand. He made sure to fake Silver's handwriting when he wrote the invitation for the date. He prepared romantic dinner with candlelight, tricked you both to come there (without stating that it was a date).

Even the stars were aligned, yet you and Silver were so dumb and oblivious.

He was hiding in the bushes, observing the situation. Needless to say, Sebek was this close to loosing his composure, coming out and just yelling at you both. He was truly hopeless, beyond the repair.

You and Silver stood there awkwardly, confused.

Sebek could faintly hear you two discussing the situation, not even realising it was a date set-up.

Sebek was devastated. His conflicted feelings made themselves present once again. He clenched his fists, sighing heavily. He had hoped he would get over his complicated feelings towards you.

Yet, it was all pointless.

He was not only a clown, but also a simp. A simp for you.

And Sebek hated himself for catching romantic feelings for you, a mere human. He was delusional thinking they would go away the moment he hooked you up with Silver.

He was a clown.

His feelings only grew stronger.

Sebek shook his head, focusing once again on your figure. Everything will be alright, once they get together with Silver; he told himself. He would repeat that sentence as many times as needed to gaslight himself. A playful yet mischievous whisper behind him, slightly startled him.

,,My, my, you poor, pitiful knight~~ Mayhaps, I could suggest you something, hmm?"

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #twst sebek #twst sebek x reader #twst silver x reader #sebek #sebek zigvolt x mc #sebek is a clown aka canon #twst #diasomnia #sebek x reader #sebek x y/n #twst x you

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part three)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 5.8k summary: eddie finds a way to distract you.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: smut with a plot, suggestive & mature themes, adult language, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex (pls wrap it before you tap it), praise kink, slight degradation, heavy use of various pet names, oblivious idiots in love, mentions of minor character death, mentions of drug consumption, a little family drama, situational anxiety — if i missed anything, pls let me know!

psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

From the moment you became a household name, your life was a never ending circus.

Frankly, oftentimes it didn’t even feel like your life anymore. An act of sorts, and you were closer resembling a puppet on a string than a human being. Dancing when they told you to dance, singing when they told you to sing. Smile. Wave. Act a certain way. Be polite. Wear this. Go here. 

You could probably count on one hand the number of experiences since your rise to fame that actually made you feel human and more than half of those are thanks to a certain rockstar by the name of Eddie Munson.

Although your time with Eddie had so far been extremely brief, the curly-haired rockstar made you feel things you have only ever dreamt possible.

His cute crooked smile. His perfectly brown doe-eyes. The way he said your name. How he made you laugh. His delicate touch and the way he seemed to know every pressure point your body had to offer. It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. 

And for a measly twelve hours, he was just yours, making you feel human.

Given the way everything played out between the two of you over these last few months, foolishly, you thought you’d get to keep him a secret from the rest of the world for just a little while longer — making up for lost time, and whatnot. Unfortunately, whoever took that picture and sold it to the tabloids clearly didn’t care, and why would they? In that moment, as they snapped the photo of a private conversation, whether your relationship with Eddie was real or fake, didn’t matter. Money mattered. Money always matters more.

“It’s gonna be okay, you know?” Eddie says, steering you away from your thoughts. He glances in your direction before focusing back on the road ahead. “Nothin’ the smart people we have hired can’t figure out.”

You look at him, a sad expression on your face. “In your own words, good for your career, bad for mine.”

Eddie scrunches his nose, faking a moment of contemplation. In reality, in the last few hours alone, he’s replayed that very first conversation with you about a hundred times. He was only joking around back then, but considering the language used on the front page of that lousy paper, and every other tabloid that followed, was clearly favouring him and disapproving towards you, his point was proven. And that only made his blood boil more.

“Doesn’t sound like me, sweetheart.” He’s trying to keep things lighthearted and the slight tease almost gets you to smile. Almost.

Instead, you let out a defeated sigh and lift your feet, placing them on the edge of the passenger seat before wrapping your arms around your legs and resting your chin on your knee.

“Guess we were never supposed to do this right.”

Eddie’s heart aches at your words. He doesn't like seeing you like this. He hated it yesterday at the studio after you saw each other again, before he got a chance to apologise, but he’s hating it even more now since there’s really nothing he can do aside from finding that fucker who took the picture and beating some sense into them — which would most likely only make the situation worse.

Then there’s the fear. Eddie can feel it, creeping and waiting to take him over whole at any given moment. He’s trying to push it down, remain positive and shit, because he knows nothing good can come from giving into feeling scared. But when he catches your gaze, he’s fucking terrified. There’s a sadness behind your eyes he’s really hoping isn’t accompanied by regret.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Eddie repeats his earlier sentiment while reaching over to take your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. This time, he’s also reminding himself.

A rather uncertain silence settles in the air. You stare blankly at the road ahead, thankful for the LA traffic as it lets you spend a little more alone time with the boy you so desperately like, but hating it at the same time since this could quite possibly be the last moment you share before the chaos unfolds further. That feels wrong to you.

Eddie deserves better than every other fling you had, caught crudely by the paparazzi and making headlines worldwide. Difference between this particular rockstar and the trail of dates you left behind prior to meeting him was that you actually cared. You cared about him, wishing that was enough to get you both through this mess, but unfortunately you also cared about what the general public thought of your romance. Their opinion mattered as it would most likely dictate how this would play out with your respectable labels and management teams.

The rockstar also wants to get over this hurdle. He meant what he said about doing this right and he’s nothing if not a man of his word — especially when it comes to pretty girls that effortlessly occupy his mind, his heart, and make his dick hard. You tick all those boxes and about a thousand more.

“Hey,” you tilt your head to look at him. He meets your gaze and raises a brow, urging you to continue. “Is there somewhere we could go before meeting Marianne at the studio?”

“Anywhere, baby.”

“Someplace private. I think I need to feel normal for a little while longer before we’re met with our fate.”

Eddie chuckles at your dramatic choice of words, heart growing fonder ‘cause it seems he’s met his match. “Like Michael Corleone.”

You furrow your brows. “Who?”

He gasps, sporting a shocked expression. “The Godfather?”

“Never seen it.”

“Oh, baby, you wound me.”

You finally smile and Eddie swears his heart is going to burst. Yeah, he’s certain now he’s too far gone to let anyone ruin whatever this was shaping up to be. His whole life consisted of sticking it to the man and he wasn’t about to stop any time soon, especially since his first chance at real happiness was at stake.

-

“Eddie, I don’t think a record store is exactly private.”

He huffs out a laugh and without saying anything, jumps out of the car. Feeling a little unnerved, you remain in your seat, following him instead with your gaze until he’s at the passengers side and opening the door for you, like the gentleman you were beginning to learn he was.

“Don’t worry, sweets. It’s safe,” Eddie reassures as he reaches out a hand for you to take, “I promise.”

You exhale and nod. “Okay.”

So he helps you out of the car, kicking the door shut before throwing one arm around your shoulder and guiding you towards the entrance of the shop. From the outside, it looks like every average record store. You’ve been to enough of them in New York, back when no one recognised you, sifting through the albums for hours on end, in search of inspiration.

“How do you know it’s safe?” You ponder out loud, scanning the poster-covered window. At first glance, it seems he’s correct. There doesn’t seem to be anyone inside and you’re proven correct when Eddie retrieves a set of keys.

“‘Cause I own it.”

Seems as simple as that and it’s because of the nonchalant tone to his voice, you’re slightly taken aback. Though you don’t get to ask any specifics. He’s opening the door and his arm moves from your shoulders to your back, pushing you gently forward, as he continues.

“Welcome to the unofficial Corroded Coffin record store.”

A smile threatens to breach your lips as your eyes dart across the space. The first word that comes to mind is messy. There are boxes of records in every possible corner of the room. Completely unorganised as the apparent ‘Rock’ section features vinyls by Louis Armstrong, and where the ‘Blues’ sign is dangling loosely, threatening to fall at any given moment, Madonna makes an appearance. There’s multiple stacks of discs that were most likely no longer going to play like they used to and every centimetre of the wall is covered in posters that have faded with time.

Eddie locks the door behind the two of you then proceeds to pull down any blinds that allow any passersby to take a peep inside. He flicks on the light which flickers for a moment before turning on and it’s then you turn to face him, taking in the proud grin spread across his features.

“What do you think?” He asks.

“How come you own a seemingly abandoned record store?” You counter, unsure of what you actually think ‘cause even though the place has a certain charm, there’s something about it that seems almost haunting.

Eddie smiles faintly. He looks down at the stacks of vinyls and drags his fingers across the dusty shelf, then wiping them on the denim of his ripped jeans. He sighs, eventually looking back up at you.

“The very first song we taped, we did so in Jeff’s garage back in Hawkins and used a ridiculously old recorder so the sound was beyond shit. We really just needed somethin’ to play quickly for the club owners we wanted to hit up once we came to LA, convince ‘em to let us perform even on the worst slot available.”

Eddie walks past you and sits up on the counter that once served as the till. He fidgets with the scattered items around him as you watch him, already enticed by the story. Thinking also how different of a start you two had in the music industry.

“Obviously because we sounded so shit on that pesky little tape, no one wanted to work with us so we all decided to get different part-time jobs, save up some cash for a session at an actual studio. I ended up working in this wonderful little shop.” Eddie smiles at the memory and you can’t help but mimic his fond expression. “The owner was this older gentleman, Mr. Foley. He used to be a music teacher and when he retired, he used all the savings he had to buy this place. I was the only other person that worked here and ‘cause of the slow decline in vinyl sales, we used to just spend the days talking.”

Slowly, you cross the room and stop to the side of Eddie’s frame, brushing up against his leg. He glances at you then, brown eyes catching yours, and your heart flips inside of your chest.

“I don’t wanna bore you with all the details, sweetheart.”

“You’re not.”

Eddie smiles at you then continues, “So I told Mr. Foley, how I was in a band and what we were trying to do. He asked for the tape which at that point remained untouched in the glove compartment of my old van. The next day, when I came in for my shift, he had the tape playing and every time the song ended, Mr. Foley would rewind it and play it again.”

He pauses briefly, gaze shifting to your hand as he reaches for it, fingers grazing against your skin with such tenderness, you swear you’re going to melt. 

“You know, I never really did believe in luck,” he half-smirks, still looking at your hand and how every crease in your skin perfectly aligns with his own. “I started that day ‘cause about thirteen plays later, the shop door opened and in walked Marianne in all her badass glory. The rest, I guess, is history.”

His smile falters. “Mr. Foley passed a day before our debut album came out. He had no living family, but that didn’t stop my surprise when his lawyer called to say this place was now mine. Mr. Foley apparently amended his will two months before he died, making it very clear the store and everything inside was for ‘that good kid, Edward Munson’ with a note that said I don't have to keep it open, just clean it every so often and make sure any property taxes are paid on time.”

Silence falls upon you. Eddie’s squeezing your hand, only now his doe-eyes are back to staring deeply into yours. It’s a moment that feels surreal. A moment that makes you feel human, just like you wanted. And judging by the look in his eyes, the rockstar feels exactly the same way.

“That’s… Shit, I don’t know what to say.”

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind though. He tugs at your arm, pulling you closer in his direction and spreading his legs wider apart so that you could slide in between them. His hands move to each side of your neck, pinkies brushing along your jawline, as you wrap your own arms behind his back, palms spreading across the leather of his jacket.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever brought here,” he states in a tone dangerously close to a murmur.

“Well, I’m honoured.”

He’s smiling again, only this time it’s different. The curl of his lips, the dips in his cheeks, the glimmer in his eyes, all reminiscent of the cockiness he displayed the first night you met. And the longer he smiles at you like that, the more you think back to the moment in his bathroom, causing your stomach to flutter and heat rush to your face as well as the space between your legs.

You quiver against him and he bites down on his bottom lip as his smile grows. He seriously feels like the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet and all he’s doing is looking at you. It’s insane to him, how a little privacy and that picture-perfect beam you’re currently sporting, makes all the problems of the real world seem fucking unimportant. Left behind on the other side door of the record store you two were currently hiding in. 

Obviously that couldn’t have been further from the truth, but right at this moment, Eddie didn’t care about the stupid tabloids or the gossip. He didn’t care about the reaction of the general public or your management team. He didn’t care that there was a chance the two of you would be told to end things before they develop further. He didn’t care about anything but the girl that stood in front of him.

So Eddie’s dipping his head lower and capturing your lips between his. The kiss is tentative and sweet, different from any kisses you’ve shared before and you’re softening under his touch with every passing second. His moves are calculated, deliberate, until he can’t contain himself any longer and the kiss is no longer tender. 

Your hands are in his hair as he’s jumping off the counter without breaking contact. He’s pulling you flush towards him by your neck since close was apparently not close enough and you can feel your nipples hardening against his chest as he grazes his blunt nails against your skin, heads tilting side to side with nothing but hunger.

“There’s a couch in the back,” Eddie whispers in between kisses.

A quiet chuckle escapes your lips. “Do you really wanna have sex on your dead boss's sofa?”

But he just shrugs. “I’ve done it in places much, much worse than that, sweets.” A sentence that earns him an eye roll from you. “Plus, not really keen on goin’ to the studio with a fucking hard-on.”

And before you get a chance to respond, he’s spinning you around. One arm trapping you against him, ass to crotch so that you can feel his growing erection. He smirks when you moan faintly at the sudden contact, mouth now at your ear where he whispers harshly how he can’t wait to fuck you so hard you’ll never forget about him. 

“My pretty girl,” he coos, leading you down the corridor, other hand on your waist, desperately tugging at your clothes. “Been thinkin’ nonstop about sticking my dick inside that delicate pussy.”

“I’m already sure I could never forget about you,” you whisper, relating back to his earlier point ‘cause you needed him to know that no matter what happens, you’re completely and undoubtedly his.

Eddie groans at your words, cock twitching in the prison that are his pants and boxers. He trails sloppy kisses along your jawline, tilting your head backwards so that he can catch your mouth in a desperate kiss. It’s heated and given your current position, rather sloppy — which only makes you squirm more. So with your eyes closed, lost in the pleasure that is his tongue dancing with yours, you stumble over your feet, trusting he can lead you to the couch in one piece.

“Fuck,” Eddie’s breathless already. He lets go of you for a split-second, only to remove his leather jacket and give you enough time to also take off your own, tossing it to the side, where he just discarded his.

Rotating in your spot, so that you were facing him once again, you offer the rockstar a mischievous smirk and drop to your knees without warning. Eddie doesn’t have time to react as you work to undo his belt buckle and then the zipper of his jeans. You only look up at him with your not-so-innocent eyes when you pull his pants down, along with his boxers, freeing his fully erect cock.

He groans, all throaty and deep, when you wrap your fingers around his base. In the same moment, you’re leaning forward and Eddie’s hands fly to the back of your head as you run your tongue around the rim of his throbbing manhood before wrapping your lips completely around it.

“Jesus Christ,” he swears when you start to suck, cheeks hollowed. You begin to bop your head, taking him deeper and deeper until his entire length is in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. And when his grip on you tightens, cock twitching in your mouth, you quicken your pace and suck harder, wanting to devour him completely.

“Shit. Baby, I—”

Eddie feels like he’s floating. Huffing, puffing, and moaning your name like a prayer as his hips start to thrust, meeting your mouth a little too eagerly, making you gag and your eyes water. He hits the back of your throat several times, revelling in the control he so easily acquired, and you’re completely breathless, soaked between the thighs ‘cause you love the dominance he emits.

His groans are getting louder, the sound music to your ears. He pumps into you forcefully till it’s a struggle to keep up, and just when you swear you can’t take anymore, he pulls out without warning. A ring-clad hand is on your throat and he’s urging you to get back on your feet, which you do without question. 

His lips are on yours in a flash, free hand making its way between your short skirt, tugging at your panties until they fall to the ground beneath. Then Eddie tumbles backwards, eagerly pulling you along as his tongue further explores your mouth. He only breaks the kiss when his calves hit the edge of the sofa. 

“Shit, I-I don’t have any condoms on me.” Eddie mutters.

“I’m on the pill now,” you say then add, “Clean and tested too.”

“Same, otherwise I wouldn't have let you—”

“Shut up,” you whisper against his lips, pecking them softly as your hands rest flat against his chest. You push him ever so slightly and Eddie drops to the couch with a thud. But he doesn’t bother making himself comfortable. Instead, he’s reaching for you again, fingers wrapped around your wrist as you straddle him, your aching cunt now hovering over his throbbing cock.

You contemplate teasing him a little, rubbing your slit along his tip until he’s the one begging to be fucked. But Eddie doesn’t give you the chance. He’s shoving himself inside your impressively wet pussy and all you can do is exhale in pleasure, matching in tone Eddie’s visceral groan.

His eyes roll to the back of his head when he feels your cunt closing in around his dick as he slides back out, then again when he pushes back in nice and slow.

“God, baby, you take my dick so well.” Eddie grumbles, continuing to insert and remove the full length of his shaft from your glistening cunt, “It’s like you were made for me.”

And the look in your eyes tells him you agree — you were made for him, you’re sure of it. No one’s ever made you feel the way he does and no one ever will. The squelching between your thighs, where his cock met your cunt, is proof enough so you rock backwards, arching your spine, and put your hands on his outstretched legs.

“Oh shit, sweets.” Eddie breathes as you start rocking your hips, feeling his head hit that spot deep inside of you. “God, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”

You increase your speed, rotating on his member forward and backward, forward and backward, getting faster and faster and faster. He’s panting underneath you, hands on your chest, squeezing and kneading your breasts through the fabric of your designer tank top, and you’re whining, the wonderful sensation of being filled up completely doing everything to overwhelm you. 

“Mhm, you fill me up so good,” you moan pathetically, grinding against his pelvis until you reach a speed you can no longer sustain without getting completely winded.

Then in the space of a heartbeat, you start to move up and down, and Eddie watches you with nothing but lust in his eyes. America’s favourite starlet hopping on his dick, moaning breathlessly. It causes euphoric waves of pleasure to contract inside of him in the form of pre-orgasmic ecstasy. “Fucking— Christ.” 

He’s quick with his hands, pulling the garment over your head with ease and hosting himself up so that his lips are at your collarbone. He’s licking and biting along the sensitive skin, hands mounding the supple skin of your breasts, rings cold against your sensitive nipples. Your own hands were on his chest, using the leverage to put more pressure on your downward movements.

“Can my pretty girl go faster?” Eddie asks in a mocking tone, face now inches from yours. “Can my baby fuck me harder or do you want me to bend you over this fucking couch and show you how it’s fucking done?” He spits harshly, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, then letting it go just as quick.

Your moans turn into cries of pleasure as you obey his request, bouncing hard upon him. He throws his head backwards, breathing heavily, eyes closed. He focuses on the feeling of your cunt clenching around his hard rod. Pussy contracting around his cock again and again and again. 

"Eddie, fuck!” You’re almost screaming now, arching your back as your insides start to burn, orgasm building in your chest and moving downward to your connection point. “I’m so fucking close— Jesus Christ.”

You bounce, burying his length entirely in your tight hole and grind against his pelvis one last time, his name sputtering from your lips as your orgasm hits. And while you ride that high, body jerking against him, Eddie forces you to collapse on his chest. His arms hold you steady as he picks up where you left off, thrusting deep into your aching cunt, chasing his own release.

“Shit, baby. That was so fucking hot,” he’s groaning in your ear. His moves are relentless and you feel like a ragdoll in the confines of his strained embrace. His cock, completely covered in your juices, is dipping in and out of you with such force, you swear he’s going to break through that wall he’s hitting at each thrust.

“I’m gonna cum deep inside of you, shit.”

“Please. Yes. Please, Eddie, please.”

The quiet begging is apparently all he needs ‘cause seconds later he’s spurting hot cum inside your cunt and you shudder at the feeling. His chest heaving, heart beating in tandem with yours, as he empties himself completely. “Fuck, baby.”

Finding comfort in the crook of the rockstars neck, you lay in his embrace for a moment longer, mind completely numb from reality. The liquid pours from your pussy as Eddie eventually lets his arms fall, though not completely. His fingers gently trace along your bare spine as you both catch your breaths.

It’s serene, even considering the nastiness of what the two of you just did. You find yourself wishing you could stay like this forever, lost in the wonderland that Eddie makes you experience simply by his proximity. Then you find yourself thinking how what you feel towards the curly-haired man underneath you is a lot stronger than anything you’ve ever experienced and perhaps, even though you still knew very little about him, you were falling in love— no, no.

Impossible. Too soon.

Thankfully, Eddie breaks you away from your thoughts.

“If they tell us not to see each other and we have to sneak around just to be able to do this, I think it’s worth every second,” he says eventually.

You huff out a laugh, sitting up slowly. “Way to ruin the moment,” you tease and lift yourself off him before fixing your tank top back over your now very tender breasts.

“So you don’t wanna sneak around with me like a couple of high schoolers?” He asks as he watches you bend over to grab your panties, ass seeping out of your skirt in the process. He licks his lips at the sight before continuing, “There’s a thrill that comes with the chase, the secrecy, don’t you think?”

“What happened to doin’ this right?” You ponder with a smirk.

Eddie chuckles. “Well, I think you were right,” he says and you raise a brow, wanting him to elaborate, “We were never supposed to do this right.”

And although he says it in a lighthearted tone, clearly not meaning anything by it, not more than a silly joke anyway, the reality of his words crumbles on top of you like a ton of bricks. The weight is crushing, suffocating, and suddenly you’re hyper aware of your surroundings, remembering the events from this morning and the shitty article in the paper that outed you two.

You swallow, the smile on your face shifting from a real one to a fake. 

“Is there a bathroom here? I wanna go clean up.”

Eddie notices the change in your demeanour but chooses not to say anything about it, thinking if you wanted to talk, you would have countered his statement. So he tells you instead where the bathroom is located and watches you leave.

Exhaling, he stands. He reaches for his clothes and puts his boxers back on before pulling his pants up over them, buckling his belt. The thin walls separating the office and the bathroom allow him to eavesdrop. He’s not sure what he’s thinking he’ll hear. He’s afraid it’ll be crying ‘cause that might mean you regretted everything — and there goes that fear again, creeping up on him. But it’s just silence, only the flush of the toilet and the running water from the tap.

He can hear the door open and close, but when minutes pass and you don’t return, Eddie takes both of your jackets and goes searching for where you might’ve disappeared to. It’s not like you’re hard to find, standing in the middle of the corridor, staring at the photos on the wall.

Eddie’s tentative in his approach, slightly afraid of startling you. But you register his presence instantly, tilting your head in his direction and catching his brown eyes with your own.

“Who’s this?” You ask, full of curiosity, motioning towards one of the pictures. 

He stops next to you, gaze flickering in the direction of the photo in question and you watch as a smile breaches his lips.

“That’s Red,” he answers as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“That means as much to me as Michael Corleone.”

Eddie snorts at your comment, although his eyes remain glued to the picture frame. The photo features him in a Hellfire t-shirt that now resides at the bottom of his over-sized wardrobe and he’s pulling up his pants with one hand while the other is behind Max, fingers in the shape of bunny ears she clearly knew he was doing as her face is an unimpressed frown, ams across her chest.

It was taken moments before him and the guys left Hawkins.

“Max. She’s my kid sister,” Eddie explains and your mouth parts in shock. He looks back at you, taking note of the surprise. “Not by blood or anything. But she lived in the trailer park I grew up in and we’ve been through a lot together so yeah, kinda adopted her as a sibling I never actually had.”

His eyes glistened as he looked at you, a little shy around the edges which is an emotion you haven’t seen on Eddie before. It made the brooding rockstar seem a little more approachable, lovable. That, plus the fact in the space of approximately two hours he’s opened up to you twice. Honestly speaking of his past as if he was desperate for you to know the kinder side of his soul.

And you’d never admit how you knew it already. How you spent most evenings reminding yourself of the stories he told you that night in August and how your heart grew three inches with every secret spilled. You’d never admit that it’s this side you prefer as it makes him more amiable, ‘cause that would mean you were indeed head over heels infatuated with him, which shouldn’t be possible after such a short period of time together. Right?

Considering also how you’ve never told him anything too personal. Keeping your cards a little too close to your chest. You couldn’t be falling for someone that knew nothing about you aside from the shit he dead in the paper. Right?

Eddie can see in your eyes, thoughts running wild. He wants to ask what’s on your mind, but bites the inside of his cheek, thinking yet again how if he really wanted to do this right, he had to let you open up on your own terms. So instead, he glances back at the picture and takes the frame off the wall.

“She actually lives in New York,” he says.

“Oh yeah? What’s she doing there?” You ask, eyes following to where his are fixed on the young girl.

“Smart cookie, studying at NYU to become a psychiatrist.” He beams proudly and your heart soares inside of your chest ‘cause you can feel the happiness radiating off of him, making you feel warm.

“Well, I hope she's actually studying 'cause otherwise I'm payin' her tuition and rent for nothin'.”

“I should ask Val if she knows her.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to be surprised. His head snaps in your direction and you can feel his doe-eyes scanning the side of your face, waiting for you to continue ‘cause who the fuck was Val, and shit, if she knew Red then that meant your lives were already intertwined more than either of you realised.

When you finally turn to him, after what felt like a minute of racking silence, a smile is present on your lips.

“Valentine, my younger sister. She would be around the same age as… Red, right? I’m guessing she prefers Red if that’s what you called her.”

“Yeah. Red,” he affirms, brows strung together, “You have a sister?”

“Several, actually. And one brother who’s often mistaken for my kid given our twenty year age gap. A headache for my PR team, but the light of my life. As is Val. Me and her are the closest.” 

Eddie’s grinning now and you wanna ask him what’s gotten into him, but his elbow knocks into your own as if he was imploring you to continue. So you do.

“Big Corroded Coffin fan, that one. Don’t tell her I told you. She likes to act nonchalant about me being this star and hanging around other stars, so if she ever met you, she’d pretend she didn’t know who you were.”

“Kinda like you did,” Eddie teases.

You smirk. “I swear I didn’t know who you were.”

The rockstar rolls his eyes. “Hard to believe considering you were at my party and apparently your sister is a big fan.” He stands straight, all cocky and cavalier. “You seriously mean to tell me you’ve never heard my music?”

You gently push him back and wanting to act as coy as possible, you brush past him, heading in the direction of the front door. “Having listened to your songs and knowing who you are, well, those are two different things, hot shot.” You call behind you.

Eddie laughs. He hurries after you, swinging one arm around your shoulders and pressing a delicate kiss to your crown.

“Agree to disagree,” he whispers, flicking the lights off with one finger and leading you outside, into the sweaty Los Angeles heat.

After making sure the record store is locked, he helps you into the car before jumping behind the wheel. He throws the picture frame he took from inside into the glove compartment and starts the car.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starvin’.” He exhales dramatically and you chuckle, “How about I take you on our second date? There’s a diner not far from here. I used to go there every damn day before all the fame and fortune. Now I like to stop by sporadically, mainly when I’m high ‘cause I swear they make the best burger in town and the owner lets me eat in the kitchen, away from the prying eyes of other customers.”

“How can I say no to a chef’s table?”

“How can you say no to me, sweets?”

You shrug. “I can’t.”

And Eddie’s smile grows wider. He tries to hide the satisfaction seeping through him right now, the pure unfiltered bliss. Tries and fails. Though at that point you’re both too far gone to care.

-

When the two of you finally make it to the studio, hours later than initially planned, the peace of mind fades into nothing, faster than either of you anticipated it would. Not because you’re forced to face reality and the situation at hand. No, because over burgers and milkshakes, you mutually decided you would stand up to your teams if they threatened to break this apart.

“They can’t end something that is bound to make ‘em money,” Eddie reasoned. “And baby, we’re making a song together. That’s millions, especially if we’re spotted together a few more times. Then there’s the music video. I can kiss you on camera, you’re talkin’ another couple grand right in the pocket of the people in charge.”

It was sound logic.

Unfortunately, you failed to account for the one person who wasn’t making money in this situation, but still had very much to say when it came to your image and “pristine” reputation.

A person forgotten by you until Eddie opened the door to the recording room.

Sitting, rather comfortably at that, on the single item of lounge furniture, was your Nana. She’s talking with Marianne who, judging by her posture and expression, is doing everything she can to impress your grandmother. 

You’re in half-a-mind to tell her it’s not worth the hassle, but you find yourself completely frozen. Unable to move or speak. Mainly because you were hating yourself for letting her slip your mind.

The thud of the door closing causes the two ladies to pause and turn to where you stood with Eddie. Marianne is immediately on her feet, shortly followed by your Nana who at first smiles, but when she notices the rockstar’s hold on your waist, her expression changes to one of disappointment, if not anger.

thank you for reading! | celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @gothvamp1973 , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @smileygoth , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @papillonoirsworld

#celebrity skin. #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson story #eddie munson series

[thekingofwinterblog]

Thoughts on people saying "Kuina dieing to the stairs is anti-climatic!" To me it works, because that seems to be the conflict of Zoro's ark: pipe dreams vs cruel, sometimes even banal, reality - Kuina feared that she wont reach her dream do to simple biology, and she died because of something that could happen to anybody who is human and not a demigod - hell Zoro in the end is also a human, so what are the chances that he has the best swordfighter genes?

Guess the only flaw could be that in Arlong park the fishmen were said to be 10* stronger than humans, so by Zoro easily defeating them it kinda proves the point mute and makes Kuina sound like a brat "Well a man is 1.6 times stronger than a man, but fishmen are 10 times stronger, and I defeated the ez gg, git gud"

I really like Kuina and her story, but there is no denying that the original message it was trying to convey has been diluted HARD by One Piece's later developments.

The message of the tragedy of Kuina's death is indeed that simple, Banal reality is very much a thing that can upend pretty much anything. It's basically the same message of Usopp's backstory. his family's plans fell to pieces for the simple reason that his mother got sick and died after his dad left. no grand battle, or dramatic circumstances behind that. she just got sick and died.

It is very similar to Kuina's death, in how ambition, plans, and desires of Humanity can be derailed by mundane and cruel reality. That is life. To claim othervise would be naive. People Die.

That part still holds up.

The other big part does not. Namely her father's line "Humans are fragile beings Zoro."

The thing about this line, and it's importance in the context of One Piece has been destroyed over time to such a degree that rather than the feeling of grounded reality that it once brought, instead brings laughter by how untrue it actually is.

Early One Piece had a much, much less uncomfortable relationship with death than the Modern series which is terrified of killing people off.

This is not to say that tons of characters died, on the contrary, not counting flashbacks and chapter 1, you can probably count the people who died in East Blue on one hand(I can only recall Zoro's skinny opponent during the Kuro Arc), but Death was treated in a very different manner than it would be later.

When Oda had this random bandit gunned in the head in chapter 1, it was to set a tone. None of these characters are playing around, wheter they were pirates, bandits, marines or bounty hunters. They lived in a world where getting killed in a fight was a very real and expected risk.

When Usopp gets laughed at by the Black Cat Pirates, Luffy throws a huge boulder at them, and tells them in no uncertain terms that if they laught at him again, he WILL kill them all.

In the context of this world, Kuina's story has very specific point. Namely it's there to showcase that even if you do overcome your doubts and fears, and do commit to chasing your dreams, that is no guarantee for success.

You can still die, and in the stupidest ways, because this is not a universe where death is cheap. It does not take much to kill a human being.

This is also hammered in with what happened to the cook Pirates, a strong, and experienced crew that sailed and survived the Grand Line, and seemingly the New World as well... And they went down toa single, wave in the East blue they hadn't positioned the ship for.

despite their strength they went down like complete chunks.

Just like Kuina.

With all of this in mind, within the context of East Blue, Kuina's Death by a broken neck makes sense from a thematic standpoint.

If you look at it from beyond that era, and into the grand line, where death became as cheap as salt by the sea, it instead makes her going down to something as simple as falling down the stairs and breaking her neck, as something frankly hilariously silly, given just how many characters in this series cheats death, in the dumbest ways possible.

I could make a list of characters who the story would be better off if they died, and i would literarily be able to put up a list with at least over a hundred characters.

The simple fact is that the old tone where death is treated as a serious thing that can happen in any fight, is dead and gone, and has been for a long, long time in One Piece.

Thus removing one of the big thematic points of Kuina's death.

As for the other point, Kuina's actual strength, I dont really see that as a problem.

The Reality is that neither Kuina, nor Zoro knew ANYTHING about the "Real World" so to speak. That was mostly what Mihawk's entire speech during his and Zoro's fight was about. The fact that he was a big frog at the bottom of the well, who had never seen just how wast the world actually was.

While she was at a disadvantage in terms of the fact that her training would begin to produce slower results than Zoro's due to simple biology, the reality is that the strength ceiling of One Piece seems to be the same for men and Women.

After all, Big Mom was by all accounts just as strong as Kaido, able to fight him to a very comfortable draw withouth any greater injury.

Hell, you could make a very good argument that the reason why Big Mom never managed to surpass Whitebeard and had to settle for just being one of the other Yonko who were not the Strongest Man in the World, was because she let herself go really, really hard. Who knows how strong she might have become if she had kept herself in shape rather than just indulge in hedonism completely and become utterly decadent.

There is also the reality that Kuina is drastically underselling her own strenght and potential, because by all accounts, Kuina was a monster in her own right.

Zoro used to train by lifting boulders over his head while training to fight her.

And Kuina was stronger than him. and not by a small amount either given her unbroken 2001 win streak.

Her greatest problem was, at the end of the day that despite being blessed with immense natural skill and strength(much moreso than Zoro) she had a fragile self esteem, in large part caused by her father's upbringing that told her she was destined to failure.

Her story was about overcoming that, and her tragedy was about the fact that after doing so, her dream was still snuffed out to something completely unrelated to any of her worries or struggles.

#one piece #shimotsuki kuina #roronoa zoro #charlotte linlin #meta #analysis #questions and answers

[thesteriuswife]

long (and yet unfinished...) summary of how Dia and Asterius' relationship developed from a currently hidden toyhouse page 💞

At first, Asterius didn't know what to make of Dianthus. Someone worthy of his king's attention must have been extraordinary, but in the beginning, Dianthus just seemed like a regulgar nymph to him. It was only when she openly declared to him "I refuse to be afraid of you; if Theseus trusts you, he must have a good reason for it." that he began to understand why the king held her in such high regard. Even so, at that point he was merely curious about her, and not much more.

Though the pair never held any animosity towards one another... but jealousy spurred between them all the same. Asterius was jealous of how Dianthus brought out Theseus' sweet, gentle, and loving side so easily. Dianthus was jealous of how Asterius could enable Theseus' prideful joy, and how he provided a sense of comfort and confidence both. This jealousy caused this relationship to be rather chaste in the beginning. Dianthus would always greet the bull kindly, and help him find books in Crete's linear language (a rarity even within the library of Elysium). They would spend time together with Theseus, but not on their own. This, for a time, was the full extent of their interaction with one another.

A day came where Dianthus was not her usual self, and it was Asterius who found her in this depressed state. He did not know how to comfort people, yet seeing her in such a way made him uneasy; Asterius decided to offer what little he could, even if it was just a shoulder to lean on. Dianthus confessed to him an insecurity that had been eating away at her; though Theseus was her fiance, she often felt as if Asterius was the one who made him happiest. Such words left Asterius in disbelief— did she not see the way Theseus' face lit up whenever she entered a room? How he would always rush to hold her when given the chance as if it were the last thing he'd ever do? Even just the way he looked at her, so full of warmth of love. How could she ever think such a thing?

But there was something about Theseus that Asterius hadn't noticed until then, as well. The way Theseus loved to have his hands on Asterius constantly, touching his muscles or his large hands. The way that Theseus always felt powerful after a shared victory, and how he would rush to tackle Asterius with a hug. The constant gifts and words of sweet affection, as well... Hearing such things from Dianthus' lips flustered him. He'd not thought about it that way. And Dianthus admitted the same; they both empowered the king in different ways. How funny it all was... to speak frankly about their feelings— and about the king— felt natural with one another. And so they each made a promise... whatever comes, they would not allow it to form into petty anger.

After having a chance to communicate with one another, things became easier. Asterius felt as if he could truly talk to Dianthus, and Dianthus felt very much the same. They began spending time together indepdently, and learned more about one another... Such as: Asterius discovered that Dianthus had a bit of a sweet-tooth, and was a very slow reader. He discovered that she had a tendency to keep fabric scraps and ribbons despite not being too skilled as a seamstress. He found that she was genuinely kind and sweet, and always considerate as well. He found that, as time went on, she became a larger and larger piece of his heart... When he watched Theseus plant a kiss on Dianthus' lips after a rousing spar, Asterius was surprised to find himself filled with an intense longing. He had already acknowledged (and accepted) his feelings towards Theseus, all while aware that nothing may come from them... but to be feeling such a way towards his fiance felt especially egregious.

It was nearly unendurable. Small things such as holding Dianthus' hand became an unbearable activity; he was afraid he'd let himself slip, and she'd know. Dianthus noticed him slowly growing more distant, and became unsure of herself.

#📜 muse's voice #🌺🐂 rose of the labyrinth (diasterius)

[giantchasm]

can i hear some of these dark taranza thoughts of yours...(kinda like sharing memories of a deceased loved one bc hal is never bringing him back 💔)

Hehehe. Gladly!

(As a note, almost all of this is regarding a Dark Taranza as I imagine he exists in the actual Kirby universe. I don't have a tons of thoughts on the specific incarnation that appears in the Clashverse, because... well, I don't have a lot of thoughts on Clash period. Although I also imagine a lot of this could also apply to him.)

In my interpretation, Mirror Worlders represent and embody what a person most dislikes about themselves. They're born the minute someone first attains an insecurity, usually sometime in childhood, and live lives that... well, reflect the experiences of their real world counterpart.

Let's use Meta Knight and Dark Meta Knight as an example. Meta Knight, in my personal headcanons, did indeed at one point serve Nightmare, just like is implied in the anime. This is something he harbors deep shame over, feeling as if his origins are that of a monster's. He also knows he's regrettably stubborn, dangerously impulsive, and emotionally distant.

As such, Dark Meta Knight is an extremely emotionally distant and stubborn jerk who’s still in eternal servitude to an irredeemable monster he considers his father (Dark Mind). He still has some positive traits, ostensibly, but overall he is a caricature of how Meta Knight sees his worst self.

So Dark Taranza embodies the traits Taranza most dislikes about himself. What are those?

-His ego. Taranza knows he's prideful and vain. He has a habit of getting overconfident, then having things blow up in his face. Just look at his behavior during Triple Deluxe! He was so... smug throughout all of it, only to have that confidence crushed.

-His envy. Taranza would never let it show on the surface, but he's a deeply jealous person. He wants what other people have and he wants it deeply. When he sees other people attain a happier ending than he did, he'll congratulate them, of course, but he'll also always feel a little resentful, something he, in turn, feels bad about. Why can't he just be happy for people?

-His loyalty and codependence. These don't necessarily seem like entirely bad traits on the surface, but Taranza's devotion can be dangerous. Just look at where his dedication to Sectonia took him. It not only got him hurt, but led to him committing various atrocities, all in the name of a love that wasn't even returned. This is something he now deeply regrets. And yet... if he were given the chance to see and follow someone he loved again, he would in an instant. He's simply needy in that way.

So Dark Taranza is an extremely egotistical, overconfident, and insufferable person, even though he's frankly not that cool. He has a violent jealous streak, and despite how confident he seems on the surface, he's secretly a follower.

After all, he doesn't just represent Taranza's pride and his resentment. He represents his fealty. All of his love and dedication to another.

Dark Taranza lives to serve, and there's just one problem with that.

There's no-one to serve.

There is no Mirror Sectonia in my verse. (Er-- well, technically there was, once upon a time, but she was retconned out of existence in the events that created the corrupted real-world Sectonia we meet in canon. There's no memory of her. She's been erased from history). Dark Taranza is a maniacal right hand man with no leader, and so he's forced to play leader himself, even as just one half of a whole.

Something which, perhaps, suits his ego. But at the same time, he feels empty. He brims with allegiance, but has no-one to dedicate himself to other than himself. This makes him deeply restless and unsatisfied, and in turn, he lashes out.

Needless to say, he does not have a good relationship with the actual Taranza. Taranza sees everything he doesn't want to be in Dark Taranza, and Dark Taranza sees everything he doesn't want to be in his original. Taranza is weak... emotional, sad, lost and lonely. Dark Taranza feels he's better than him because he is not experiencing the same emotional turmoil Taranza is. He openly makes fun of him for it and says he's much better off having always been alone.

...But deep down, he's jealous. He cannot escape the jealousy that is inherent to his being. Even despite feeling he's better than Taranza, he sometimes secretly wishes he had what he had... was also able to experience what he lost. Not that he'd ever admit it.

TLDR: Dude who's pretty much intrinsically a mook is forced to play head honcho, both to his pleasure and dissatisfaction. All the while the age old question is asked as he contrasts with his real world counterpart:

Is it better to have loved and lost, or never to have loved at all? Better to care, but then be hurt and discarded, or better to be lonely and safe? As long as he never trusts anyone, he'll never get backstabbed, but he'll also never experience genuine connection. And he secretly craves that more than anything.

He and Taranza are kind of like this song from City of Angels to me

You're in my plot, I'm still your creator I call each shot, I'm your private dic-tator You are so thick, you eat, breathe, sleep fiction I'm your meal ticket, knew-deep in cheap fiction You gloating ignoramus You haven't any shame Hey, I'm a famous shamus And most people don't know your name You're nothing without me Without me you'd just disappear Right into thin air And no one would care Or notice you ever were here A puppet, an upstart A loser who's destined to fall I'm everything you always wanted to be Let's deal with the issue, you wish you were me You're nothing without me Without me, you're nothing at all

Do you see my vision?

#kirby #taranza #dark taranza #kirby headcanons #for my followers who know warrior cats: he's kind of like a darkstripe to me #he loves being evil but he needs someone to follow. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD BOSS HIM AROUND #once there's no more boss he's completely lost #sack’s kirbyverse

[on-wednesdays-we-eat-the-rich]

While I was in the shower earlier, I realised that Kitty's relationship with Eleanor is surprisingly similar to my relationship with my best friend in primary school. I was Kitty, if you filled Kitty with extraordinary amounts of rage, and my friend was Eleanor. I must admit our friendship wasn't very healthy. I simultaneously idolised and resented my friend because she made me feel inadequate, like I had to prove I was worth spending time with. She was cool, she was trendy, she was sarcastic, she was judgemental, and she always seemed to have the upper hand. I would try to tell her about something I was interested in and she'd tell me it was stupid and boring. I would suggest a game to play and she would ignore me. I would be having a conversation with her and she would get all pedantic and argue with everything I said. She would randomly go off with someone else and I'd be left with no-one to talk to because I was terrible at making friends. I felt like I had to live up to her ever-changing standards and we'd both get angry when I couldn't.

I didn't realise that she was hurting me until Year Six, when things escalated dramatically and the mild teasing turned into active bullying. It went from "I'm cooler than you" to "I want you to be miserable" very suddenly, and for no apparent reason. We stopped being friends and I avoided her like the plague, but that was difficult to do because practically every girl in our class was at least well-acquainted with both of us, and I was scared I'd be ganged up on so I avoided the rest of them too. Then I got an e-mail from my friend. She was hugely apologetic and wanted to be friends again. I can't actually remember what my response was. I don't think the drama ended there, because the passive aggression and the snide comments and the poking me in the back when we were lined up continued almost until the end of the school year, but eventually the resentment faded. In Year Seven, my friend left school and moved away, and before she left she hugged me. I was honestly happy that things were changing, like we were being given a clean slate and a chance to move on. We could only communicate digitally from then on, and we haven't actually spoken to each other for a bloody long time, but I no longer consider her to be my enemy.

Why did I just tell you my life story? Because I saw a post yesterday that was complaining about Eleanor's "redemption" and saying it shouldn't have happened. Frankly I wouldn't call it much of a redemption. There's no arc to it. We don't see what happens next. We don't know if Eleanor becomes a better person after Kitty's death or if she stays the same. We don't know if she is punished for her bad behaviour or if she's rewarded for wanting to be better. Literally all it is, is Eleanor realising she fucked up and feeling remorse. That's it. Nobody tries to excuse her actions. Eleanor does give us a reason for disliking Kitty: because she thought Kitty had taken something from her. It doesn't take a genius to know that this isn't a fair reason, because Kitty has been nothing but kind to Eleanor, and Eleanor herself acknowledges this.

Considering the whole context of Eleanor and Kitty's relationship, I think Eleanor's behaviour and her feelings about it at the end make sense. It's not that they're justified, because they're obviously not. It's just that it's realistic.

Think about it: Eleanor is a bully. She and Kitty are sisters, probably of similar ages, have grown up together for at least some of their childhood, and seem to receive the same level of affection from other people. Neither of them are obviously favoured more than the other. Eleanor isn't worse-off than Kitty is, nor is she significantly more powerful. They're equals, but Eleanor feels irrationally jealous.

They're both pretty young, and Kitty's naivety and Eleanor's pettiness suggest that they're not the most emotionally mature people in the world, which is fair enough because why would they be? Eleanor's immaturity is shown in the way she treats Kitty. Her bullying is always either motivated by jealousy, as we see in the flashbacks in Something To Share?, or simply because she finds it funny, as we see/hear in the book/audiobook when Kitty's reading from her diary. Her "jokes" do sometimes go into dangerous territory, like when she abandons Kitty for hours when they're playing hide and seek, or when she pushes her into the lake, but as far as we know there is no desire to seriously hurt Kitty, only to embarrass her or to spoil things for her. That's why I think the Six Idiots made the right decision when revealing Kitty's death. They had the other ghosts originally suspecting Eleanor, which makes sense because they know she was horrible, and this just reinforces that fact for the audience, but to be honest, if Eleanor had murdered Kitty that would be a serious escalation from the childish bullying. And from a writing point of view, they'd already had a "supposedly trustworthy family member turns out to be responsible for a ghost's death" plot already in The Thomas Thorne Affair, so doing that again with Kitty and Eleanor might have come across as lazy writing. And I think it just fits better with Eleanor's character and her relationship with Kitty that she didn't kill her. Eleanor is a bully, but she isn't a monster.

Thinking about their relationship, it makes sense, at least to me, that Eleanor had a change of heart right at the end. We know that she didn't like Kitty, but they were sisters and they treated each other like sisters and Kitty never did anything to hurt Eleanor, so it's safe to assume that Eleanor's feelings about Kitty would probably be quite complicated. And considering her immaturity, it's unlikely that she fully understands them herself. I imagine the threat of losing someone you're close to would be a pretty sensible reason to reconsider your relationship with them and wish it could have been different. I don't doubt that Eleanor would have wanted Kitty to go away when she was alive, but she'd be understandably shocked when Kitty is actually dying and she realises how serious the matter is. Even if they didn't get along, Kitty has been a very significant part of Eleanor's life, and everything is going to be different without her. I think that's what Eleanor is worried about, and that's what triggers the realisation that she's been horrible to Kitty and Kitty didn't deserve that treatment.

Eleanor isn't some kind of cartoon villain. She's a person. Not necessarily a good person, but still a person. And I can tell you from experience that sometimes real-life people have an unexpected change of heart. To be honest, Eleanor's makes more sense to me because I know what caused it. My friend's apologetic e-mail literally came out of the blue. For all I know, it might not even have been genuine. I still feel hurt by the way I was treated by my friend, but I know that's in the past and I can't change it so I might as well live with it. I've forgiven my friend, because I've tried holding a grudge and it's exhausting, and I know history won't repeat itself. Things are never going to be the same between us and that's okay.

Eleanor doesn't get forgiveness. At least, not that we see in the show. Kitty thinks Eleanor was a good person but that's because she wasn't aware that she was bullying her. The other characters in the show know how bad Eleanor was and make no excuses for her. Everything she did to Kitty is clearly shown as abuse, and the closest thing she has to a redemption arc is simply her own realisation that she was wrong.

Was this plotline executed flawlessly? Probably not, nothing's perfect. And I don't expect everyone to agree with me, but I hope my argument at least makes sense to everyone. If you're unsatisfied with how the show went, I'm sorry, but the only solution I can give you is: fanfiction. Read it. Write it. Immerse yourself in it. You can do whatever you want with fanfiction. Go mad. Write the ending you wanted and don't harass the show's creators.

#bbc ghosts #kitty higham #eleanor higham #character analysis #yes i made this personal #no i don't care #sharing my life story helps me articulate my thoughts #the person to whom this is a sort of counter-argument made another point that i've had a lot of Thoughts about #so i might write another essay in response to that as well #i'm doing this instead of my homework btw #which just goes to show that i value my special interests more than my literal career

[dng3r]

don't you know it's fun for me to be bad?

【 mackenyu //. cisman //. he/him 】 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠… HIKARI TERADA  into The Hub. You are registered to be TWENTY EIGHT YEARS OLD and have been given citizenship for A LIFETIME under the Expatriate Act. According to the data compiled, your most notable qualities seem to be HUMOROUS & THOUGHTLESS. Please confirm that you are LAWFUL EVIL. From what we’ve gathered your place of employ is currently for the ICHIBANGASE / EISHER CORPORATION as a SAMURAI-VI SUBJECT I.D. #9644 ( SOLDIER 1ST CLASS CODENAME: ARES ) //. LEVEL FOUR GYM as a UNDEGROUND FIGHTER //. COWBOYS as a BOUNTY HUNTER. We strongly advise that you provide the correct information pertaining to your background to ensure proper safety precautions: are you a _HOST_ or _HUMAN_? A deeper dive into our archive suggests that you are LAUGHING AT THE THREAT OF DANGER, FORGOTTEN THEIR HUMANITY, CAUSING MAYHEM FOR THE SAKE OF MAYHEM, SMILING AT THE SIGHT OF BLOOD. Though we noticed you, too, are similar to WOLVERINE ( X-MEN ), DEADPOOL ( MARVEL ), SYLAR ( HEROES ), HARLEY QUINN ( DC ). ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ ᴠᴇʀɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 100% ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! Please comply to all regulations and laws. It is our hope that you enjoy your stay.

general information

name: hikari terada

nickname/codename: ares

age: twenty-eight

face claim: mackenyu

gender & pronouns: cisman & he/him

orientation: bisexual/biromantic

relationship status: REDACTED

physical & mental

hair color: depends on what he feels like

eye color: hazel

height: 178 cm/5'10ft

tattoos: two sleeve tattoos

scars: too many to count.

biography

do you remember who you were beforehand? no, and quite frankly you never gave it much thought. you've always been this, a soldier, a hunter, a killer. if you were forced to you'd recall then you were an orphan who was taken to be trained and become who you are today; it's as simple and as boring as that. well, you can also add the excruciating pain you went through to get to that position but who cares about that, right?

besides, it's far more interesting to talk about your career as a soldier and how you got a little too into the role. there's something addictive about power or maybe you're just insane as many people have decided to call you. you don't see yourself like that, why can't a guy just make his job fun? and if said job involves killing and arresting people than that's just your business, isn't it?

you like working alone, nobody to tell you what to do in the middle of the job. all you need is for the corpo to point and you shoot, the means are irrelevant. maybe this is why your codename is ares, you're good at starting a war because why go into a stealth mission quietly when you can go in guns and swords blazing?

despite the road that lead you to where you are, you love your job. an excuse to fight in the most legal of senses. you do sometimes wonder if the corpo never have found you when you were an orphan, would you still be laughing during a fight? would you still make your enemies think they had a chance just for fun, to prolong a fight that in your mind was over the minute you step foot there? nah, it's a waste of thought, anyway.

when you don't have any missions, however, you often find other ways to scratch the itch; by underground fighting or even taking some bounties. you live your life to cause mayhem because why not? you've already been told you're going to hell and your reply is that you'll greet satan with a bullet to the heart. either that or sleep with him, either way works.

wanted connections.

just as crazy as me — this is probably hikari's other half. maybe it started as hikari being a bad influence that eventually it bled into them being bad too? it could also be someone that's already bad and they can be evil together. idk i need to flesh out this idea more.

co-worker — this could be anybody in the corpo world who thinks hikari is a little bit out of control, the two of them basically don't like each other though hikari shows it by annoying the ever living crap outta them.

target — this is just hikari's target. maybe he nearly killed them and didn't for w/e reason? def something we can talk about !

i know you — this someone is childhood friend, who was also an orphan. they knew hikari before he was taken. maybe this character has been wondering for years and years what happened to hikari before suddenly seeing him as a soldier.

any and all connections !!

#anarchicintro #intro // HIKARI. #// for some reason i wrote this in 2nd person

[scorpio-marionette]

Anxiety

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!reader

Rating: PG

Warnings: anxiety, bad coping mechanisms, sadness, confusion, assumptions, age gap

A/N: Forgive me guys. I am currently in a depressive episode and I just binged @fuckyeahdindjarin 's Consent series (instead of writing like I should have) and it has put me deep into my feels. This little fic is very personal to me. Again, I'm sorry it's so sad. I just hate being attracted to a man I can get to know, let alone actually date, sometimes. (I'm looking at you Pedro.) But a girl can dream, right?

Part of @toomanystoriessolittletime December Writing Challenge

❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄

You're not quite sure what you should've expected looking at Instagram, at his Instagram. Of course he'd be surrounded by starlets. Gorgeous women, who are actually his, mind you, clinging to his arm. Kissing his face. All heart eyes and smiles. The same smile that swept you away a year ago….

It had happened by sheer chance. You and your best friend happened to be in the right restaurant to overhear a writer and producer talking about a script. The story as a whole was interesting enough, but certain parts made the flow of the story choppy. As a writer you were dying inside from trying to keep quiet. More than positive that you weren't supposed to know about the script at all. Fortunately or unfortunately, you couldn’t keep it together anymore. You rose from your seat to make your way over to their table. You politely ask that they forgive your interruption (and eavesdropping) and ask if you may provide an outside opinion. Once given the green light you go to town. Much to your surprise, the two were very interested in your outlook on the story. So much so they invite you and your friend to finish having your food at their table. Minutes blur into hours as you all work. Once satisfied with their edited story, they bid you farewell with the promise of compensation for your contribution. 

Months would pass before you heard anything else. Not that you had been expecting to, or hoping. Your check had come and long since been spent. What else could they need? More edits? Apparently you because they couldn't seem to find the right actress to play the leading lady. Upon your arrival to set you had asked why. You were merely told that no one knew the character better than you. No one understood her like you did. A valid point. You had almost completely rewritten her. In light of the trouble, you accepted the task. You didn’t have an ounce of acting experience under your belt though. The director assured you that you would be fine. That’s about the moment you found out who your co-star was. You had heard of him, and frankly you heard him before you saw him. Demetrio Bravolinski, a.k.a. Dieter Bravo. Hollywood heartthrob. The man to be because he was getting cast in everything after the documentary for Cliff Beasts.

You had it bad for him, regardless of having never met him prior. You knew it was ridiculous to be so sure of your feelings. You had no real reason to feel what you felt. You couldn’t help it though. Something told you deep down that the man before you was more than the designer shirts his agent had rented so he could be a human product billboard. More than the recreational drugs he’s known for using in the tabloids. He felt and dreamed like any other being. Keeping that in mind, you let the director introduce you. At first he seemed put off by how young you were. Quick to question why such a young actress was cast. His failed relationship with the young Anika came to mind. The director explained what happened with you and the producer and writer. He instantly perked up. He hadn’t been excited to take the role at first, but was promised that it would be in the running for movie of the year. When rewrites for the script had made their way to him, his opinion on the film took an instant one eighty. He had not only fallen for his character, but also what would now be yours. No one would have ever taken Dieter for being a secret romantic. 

With that, production had been a whirlwind. At first you kept very much to yourself. Feeling incredibly out of place among all the Hollywood regulars. Your anxiety winning out over making friends. Dieter had other plans though. He took you out to dinner when you weren’t too tired. He took you sightseeing on your days off. He bought you gifts that suited your tastes and interests. He asked you for your opinions on books, movies, and pieces of art. You couldn’t lie about it. You couldn’t have made it up. You seemed right about Dieter. He was more than what was shown. And your heart had completely fallen for him. First his voice, then his smile. The light in his eyes. His sometimes god awful humor. Then production wrapped. Reshoots barely needed you so you were released early. You thought he would want you around. To hang out after he finished his work, but he just went to the wrap parties. All the ones you weren’t invited to. 

When it came time to promote the movie, you were nowhere to be found. The contract you had drafted with the studio miraculously got you out of press tours. How, you’re still not sure, but after a month and half seeing Dieter at parties with ladies he’d actually be interested in you weren’t complaining. You had merely slipped away into the background where you were supposed to be. Going home wasn’t easy though. While no paparazzi followed you, eager friends and family were desperate to hear how it had all gone. You were truthful to a point. You had fun and explored what you could. One question from a friend was unexpected. She had asked if you told Dieter how you felt about him. Hesitating at first, you tell her that you never had a good moment to do so. He was either being far to sweet for you to drop a bomb like that on him, or had a beautiful woman on him, looking like they were already happily committed. 

And that’s how you’ve found yourself here, under a rainfall of crystal blue lights on a chilled winter’s night. Longingly staring at the photo of a man who will never be yours. Not just because he’s older than you, or a celebrity, or even because of the beautiful blonde on his arm. It’s because he isn’t here in New York. In your little corner of the world. He’s jetset off to London with the woman in the photo for the world premiere of the movie you starred together in. He’s gone, just like he was the day you had shown up to the studio to see if he wanted lunch. The same day that woman had sneered in your face. Asking a haunting question.

“Why on earth would a man like Dieter waste his time on you? You’re a little girl! A child! He may actually be a very sweet man, but he knows jail bait when he sees it. Go home and cry to mommy, hun. He has no need to babysit you anymore.”

Even now her words still hurt. They’re true though. Dieter was just being nice to you. You don’t fit in his world. He drinks and smokes and takes edibles before going out to party. Hell, he has a social life. Friends to hang out with, fake or not. The man does stuff with his life. All you’ve done is this one, crazy, fever dream of a filming opportunity. Now you’re home. Back to nothing. Perhaps it was just the universe’s idea of an early Christmas present or something?

“Why didn’t you come back?”

Your head whips around to the source of the voice. A snuggly, sleepy looking Dieter stands just outside your protective cage of icicle lights. His large hands tucked out of sight into the pockets of his peacoat. A new pair of black sweatpants shielding his legs from the air. Bewilderment. Disbelief. Fear. All very present on your face as you take in his appearance. You’re sure you must look like a gaping fish, but how else are you to react to him not only finding you in your own home town, but in your favorite spot in town. Surely your mother sold you out to him. 

“I-I did… you weren’t there,” you finally answer. “You left to go to a party.”

“Then why didn’t you meet me there?” he continues to question.

“Because I wasn't wanted there.”

“Who told you that?”

You hesitate to throw his girlfriend under the bus. Positive that even if he wouldn’t get mad, he would still side with her and claim that she would’ve wanted you to attend as you were his co-star.

“Who said you weren’t wanted there? We all waited for you to come. We were going to surprise you with gifts for completing your first ever movie!”

Now this is news to you. No one from production had ever mentioned this. There weren’t even gifts sent to you after the party. Just copious amounts of pictures of Dieter dancing with every stunner of a woman in the club. Kissing. Duck faces. Megawatt smiles. Nothing about you. No inquiries to your whereabouts. Request for ETAs. You were sure everyone forgot about you since you weren’t a star.

“I ended up taking everything home with me,” Dieter informs you. “I’ve just been sitting on a mountain of presents waiting for you to come by, but you never did. You didn’t even come on the press tour. You missed the premiere.”

“I couldn’t…” you start, but you choke up. Your throat seems to be closing. Your chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. You rise and turn to run from him. A hand gently grasps your elbow to halt your escape.

“Why didn’t you come back?” he asks again. 

Fear gives way to irrational anger. Your involuntary response to being mentally cornered. The ugly part of your personality.

“Because you didn’t really care for me!” you all but scream. “Your girlfriend told me as much. And here I was stupid enough to think you might like me.”

“Girlfriend?” He pauses. “ Do you mean Alexandria? She’s not my girlfriend. She’s an old friend from my short stint on Broadway. Wait, what did she tell you?”

“She said you didn’t need to babysit me anymore and said you didn’t care about me because I’m younger than you.”

Dieter laughs - no, bellows at your answer. Apparently finding great humor in his friend’s statement. You shrink into yourself at the sound. His wide grin confirms what you have since believed. Again, you turn to exit the park; to recede back into the shadows. Again a hand stops you from leaving. Pulled around to face him, you see that bright spot of warmth and sunlight that radiates from somewhere behind his eyes. It’s all for you. Your head droops. His eyes soften.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t like you because you’re younger than me?” he inquires as he lifts your face back to his. “And did you really think I couldn’t see the way you look at me?”

A blush blazes across your cheeks. You thought you had been discrete. Neutral at least.

“I’ve known this whole time that you’ve had a thing for me, sweetheart. I was just wondering how long it’d take for you to admit it. I even found all your social media pages you have about me.”

His smile widens like the Cheshire Cat he is. Mischievous, but honest. Devious, but true.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, darling.” He leans down to your ear and nuzzles in. 

“I love you too.”

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #writing challenge

[tuiyla]

I do think a lot of what is considered Faberry queerbaiting was, in actuality, just super clumsy love triangle writing. The Glee writers were always in this weird space with Quinn, where they both only cared about her as a Finchel roadblock, but also didn't want anyone to really be concerned about her as an actual threat. So they'd throw in these Fuinn crumbs, that just frankly never landed, because they never actually wanted them to have any impact. I fully believe in S3, we're meant to think Quinn is conflicted over the Faberry marriage because of FINN. But absolutely no one but the writers bought it. And I'm including Dianna and Lea as skeptics here. Because by then they had two and a half seasons of playing scenes where Fuinn was never given a real chance and they were repeatedly pushing that Finchel were soulmates. S2 prom? That's about Finchel, it's about Rachel's pain and selflessness...from helping Finn with the corsage to brushing off the slap and comforting Quinn. A lot of Faberry scenes are much more about propping up Rachel than they are Faberry as a relationship, imo. S3 Skanks scene, the writers thinking Rachel is the voice of reason in talking Quinn down from turning in Shelby, etc. And on Quinn's side? Her giving Rachel prom queen is her mea culpa for being an EVIL, TREACHEROUS Finchel saboteur, both in regards to their wedding and almost ruining their prom night.

Anyway, did it work? Not really. And I'd say it's 75% because the writers hated/feared Fuinn too much to even half-ass sell it, 5% legit queerbaiting, and 20% because Dianna took matters into her own hands. Bless.

I think you're right on the money.

So true about Fuinn because I just don't buy that anyone actually shipped them. Precisely because so little thought was put into it, they were so bad for each other from the beginning and a parallel to the Will-Terri marriage. You could argue that they try to turn Fuinn into more of a threat and "genuine" thing in season 2 but it starts off by cheating (on Sam) and then it largely feels insincere and like it's under constant threat from Rachel. I never bought that they had feelings for each other. Quinn more obviously so didn't but do you really think Finn loved this girl and hesitated whether to be with her or Rachel? No! He just thought she was hot.

And you're so right that this is why the love triangle stuff doesn't work and it just makes moments that are supposed to be about Fuinn/Finchel seem fruity between Faberry. Rachel telling Finn what to give Quinn was, in the writers' mind I'm sure, a gesture towards Finn and them saying Rachel loves him so much she'd break her own heart by giving him good advice. But of course we consider just how exactly Rachel knew what went with the colour of Quinn's eyes, etc. And I appreciate that despite moments of rivalry the Faberry relationship had this air of wanting the best for each other from very early on, despite the writers' best efforts at centering Finn in all this.

As always, they wanted to have their cake and eat it. But you can't dangle Quinn as a legit threat while developing Faberry a lot more than Fuinn. And, romantic aspects aside, I think it's hard to deny that Faberry was overall a much more engaging and well-developed dynamic. I do disagree on the topic of the wedding partly because of this, because I think by season 3 the writers gave up on Fuinn and instead legit wanted Quinn opposing the wedding to off as a her caring for Rachel thing. Which it did, though I don't think they intended for it to come off as fruity as well.

I see your point about Faberry scenes being about propping up Rachel and to a degree I agree. I think it's about showing how forgiving and gracious Rachel is, but it comes across as genuine to me and I love that about her, plus I think it was well acted enough, at least, for their concern about each other to be mutual. Faberry scenes land (and land with those looking for shipping material) because there's much more of a genuine emotion behind them than Fuinn ever had. Rachel has always been highly forgiving towards Quinn and in return Quinn quickly learned to care for her and urge her towards a larger destiny, which also happened to be away from Finn. That doesn't mean a romantic interpretation between the two of them was intended but it certainly was capitalized on in terms of advertising. Don't tell me that notorious twitter troll Ryan Murphy wasn't aware of Faberry's popularity in the year of our lord 2011. So despite my earlier post on the topic of queerbaiting, I do agree that 5% of it legit was exactly that.

It's so funny that yeah, ultimately it didn't work. A lot of things they intend with Quinn in particular didn't work. But after a point the writers really don't have anyone to blame but themselves because you can't have someone go through what Quinn did and not elicit sympathy. And you can't half-ass Fuinn the way they did and then do all those Faberry scenes and not expect people to be more invested in the latter. So many funny things about this complicated world of the Fuinnchel triangle.

#you're so right that they messed up with fuinn first and foremost #so right anon very big brained #that's their doom the underdeveloped relationships #glee asks #anon #faberry asks #fuinnchel #fuinn #faberry #finchel #kinda not really it's not about them

[jonahh]

i loveeee jonah and i can’t rly think of a good question for u?? maybe like how did u feel abt the amy jonah breakup proposal scene in s6? i know it was sorta unpopular in the fandom as forced but i thought it was very sympathetic and understandable on both sides tbh

narratively speaking superstore actually hit the jackpot by getting canceled when it did, because if that had been the last we see of amy i don't think they could have salvaged it—or it would have been very difficult to, at least. i definitely had my doubts on a larger scale about superstore without america, and i still don't know that amy moving to california was the smartest plot move, but they weren't expecting to lose a lead and you work with what you have i guess

that being said! given that this was the in-universe route they chose, i do think that they pulled it off in a way that felt true to the characters. it's definitely brutal to watch, but it makes sense. of course amy is hesitant to make such a big, official step. even though it's jonah, and he's been around for a long time, and their relationship is great, she's been through this before and it completely derailed her from what she originally wanted in life. and so in her mind, there's always room for things to go wrong—whether that's in an immediate and catastrophic way or a slower, boiling-frog stagnation way. because of her circumstances, it's important to her that she have an easy escape route if that were to happen.

there's also the issue of the timing. i think that, if the circumstances were different and this didn't come up at the time of the move, it would feel less claustrophobic for her. but it's sort of an insane and tumultuous period, and adding yet another life-altering decision to the mix was definitely. not great.

jonah's view is completely different here. he pretty much sees them as already-married at this point, so it doesn't feel as daunting for him. this is where i do start to feel a little conflicted, so bear with me. on the one hand i do think he should have known better than to think this wouldn't be an added stressor for amy. like, obviously he's aware of her past, and the baggage/trauma she has regarding marriage. he's not adam, of course he's not adam, but who's to say he wouldn't fall into the same rut? he has a string of abandoned jobs behind him, and frankly not a whole lot of prospects. adam has a string of abandoned hobbies. amy's always been the one to take on the role of "adult" and frankly, as much as she (and i) love jonah, the relationship doesn't...look all that different. yes, true love, etc but she has kids and so she has to look at it from a practical as well as a romantic perspective.

the thing is, while he went about it in a way that was a little thoughtless and insane, jonah's also not in the wrong for wanting something more. i mean, the dude is moving across the country for her. they HAVE been together for several years, and they've known each other for several years before that. they are, functionally, a family, so it makes sense that he would want to make that official. and as solid as the relationship is, he just needs to know that she won't pull the rug out from under him suddenly—marriage seems like the most natural way to prove the stability of the relationship and soothe his neuroses. plus, in his mind, there's absolutely no chance he's going to be the one to leave. she's the reason he's stuck around for so many years, after all. but she has no way of fully understanding that without literally being in his head.

seeing him stand up for himself and set that boundary is cathartic. watching amy have to deal with the ultimatum is heartbreaking. marriage means two different things to these characters, and that's what makes the breakup so potent.

#fictionandmusic #also they both acted their ASSES off in this scene ben especially #however again. if they hadn't ended it after s6 it wouldn't have been a satisfying ending for them. the context is essential #.txt #nbc superstore #superstore #jonah x amy #jonah simms #amy sosa

[rebelsofshield]

I adore Grogu and Din's bond, but I thought they wrapped up the story of him finding the Jedi and reuniting them with Grogu well. I know a lot of people were upset about it but I just hate that I didn't care as much as they did? I know I'll enjoy Din and Grogu's dynamic again but I was okay with moving on from it. Do you think their bond is important to the success and core of the show?

This is hard to answer because I don't think that the show has really been given the chance to establish what its identity is outside of Grogu and Din's connection. Their story has been the key feature of the series since the first episode and I'm not entirely clear on what a show that isn't about this would look like.

Part of the reason why I genuinely liked "The Return of the Mandalorian" in The Book of Boba Fett (despite it completely abandoning its title character) is that it seemed to establish something of a new status quo for Din. He basically gave up his whole life and culture to protect this child and on the other side he's at a loss for what to do. And it certainly doesn't help matters that he now owns a weapon that's an ancestral indicator of power and rightful rule. So it was it was fun to see him attempt to make sense of this and try to establish what a life post-Grogu could be. And frankly, I would have been completely down for watching Din attempt to navigate the complicated world of Mandalorian politics with other factions also jockeying for control. That may still be what we get, but it's not a story that naturally lends itself to the inclusion of Grogu who honestly just feels like he's going to be floating around being Din's cute little sidekick. Which is a bummer because the quiet tension between the two was always part of what made their relationship the core of the series. The strongest arc of the first season is seeing Din decide that Grogu is something that is worth him abandoning his culture for and the best arc of the second season is him coming to terms that he must let Grogu go. I'm not sure what the thrust or challenge to their relationship is now that Grogu just seems to be around for the long run.

And maybe I'm being cynical, but part of me wonders if Grogu's return is a corporate mandate. It's no secret to literally anyone that's walked through a Target or TJ Maxx in the last three years that Grogu is an absolute merchandising titan and not having him be a regular on a Star Wars show likely isn't something that Disney corporate would be comfortable with.

But, maybe I'm wrong. I've been wrong before and while I've been routinely let down by the Favroni side of Star Wars, they do occasionally get things right. So we shall see.

#Star Wars #The Mandalorian #asks #ask box #anons #anonymous #review #reviews #Din Djarin #Grogu

[ddagent]

I'm dying to read how John's mother and sister first reacted to Delenn.

“Please just…give her a chance, Mom. I know you’ll love Delenn when you get to know her.”

In the last call with her son, Nancy Sheridan hadn’t been sure whether to console her boy or stare him down. The idea that she would not give Delenn a chance was ridiculous. After all, hadn’t she given all John’s partners a chance? During the single dinner she and David had had with Elizabeth Lochley, Nancy had tried to be supportive. Asked her questions about her career, her family; ignored the words hissed under breaths as the newlyweds battled for dominance. Then there had been Anna who was, and always would be, Lizzie’s friend. Polite and sweet and respectful. Then she had become family and Nancy had had to bite her tongue yet again. She’d watched her son unable to confide in his wife, unable to turn to her as the long distance meant they could only talk about the positive. Her death had compounded John’s idolisation of what was, quite frankly, another marriage that wouldn’t have lasted three months if they’d actually lived in the same place for more than a week at a time.

Delenn, however, was different.

Read below or at AO3

Nancy watched her from the entrance to the Zen Garden; her hands wringing themselves, the pads of her fingers straying to the engagement ring she wore. Elizabeth hadn’t been given one. John had spent two months searching – through David and Lizzie – for the perfect ring. This one was simple, inexpensive. But the look on Delenn’s face as she stared at the adornment told Nancy a great deal about her future daughter-in-law. John’s messages home, starting all the way back in 2259, told her the rest.

“Ambassador Delenn?”

Her head lifted. The ISN reports – that trash – had not done her future daughter-in-law justice. Her smile was warm, if a little hesitant. This was, after all, the first time they were meeting. John had invited her and David to Babylon 5 for a small engagement dinner and had planned to make introductions later that night. But Nancy had had ideas of her own, if only to stop the poor thing spending the rest of the day in utter turmoil. “Yes?”

“I’m Nancy. John’s mother.”

All the colour instantly drained out of Delenn’s face. She rose to her feet, head bowing. “My apologies. John told me that we were meeting later tonight, I had no idea—” 

Nancy waved off her apologies. “That’s what my son thinks. But I wanted to meet my new daughter-in-law a little sooner.” She closed the gap between them, eased her arm between Delenn’s own and practically carried the slight thing halfway along the garden. “I have wanted to meet you for the longest time and I couldn’t wait another minute.”

Delenn paused. “You–you have?”

“Of course. Johnny has spoken so warmly about you ever since his appointment. I’ve been trying to get him to invite us to visit but he’s always been reluctant.” Nancy nudged Delenn’s shoulder. “I think it’s because he knew I’d tell him he was in love with you and that he should damn well get off his ass and do something about it.”

Delenn laughed; spots of colour returning to her cheeks. “He did, um, take his sweet time in moving our relationship into something more romantic. But I’m glad he did.” Delenn seemed to vibrate with the very thought of John. “I love your son a great deal. We are old souls; our lives moving in parallel. I am eternally grateful to the universe that our paths crossed three years ago.” She paused. “It must sound quite strange. John, I think, is rather used to our conversations about the Universe.”

“Starstuff,” Nancy recalled. She could recite that letter from memory. And she talked about the universe and how we are parts of the universe made manifest. Starstuff, she called us. God, Mom, I was having a hell of a day but in one conversation, Ambassador Delenn put everything right. I can’t remember the last time I felt so…sure. Delenn, however, did not need to know that Nancy had read sections of that letter out for a week to persuade David that their son was nursing a slight crush on the Minbari Ambassador. “Like I said, John’s spoken fondly of you for years.”

“What, uh, else has he said of me?”

After the war, Nancy had done some translation work for a few Minbari worker clans. She’d used her maiden name, Bradley, because despite the pride she felt for her son, she knew the name wasn’t exactly popular. In her dealings with the Minbari, Nancy had never considered them to be a curious people. And yet, Ambassador Delenn was curious. A seeker of answers; a solver of mysteries. Nancy answered every question Delenn had: of John growing up, of their farm before Clark’s men had got hold of it, of Nancy’s translation practice. Many of John’s former partners had asked the first set of questions, so sure were they that they wanted to be John’s wife. None of them had ever really wanted to be a Sheridan.

As they walked the length of the garden and back, Nancy decided that they didn’t need a ceremony or a piece of paper to confirm it. Delenn was a Sheridan. She always had been.

#babylon 5 #john x delenn #dd: prompts #dd: fanfic #ship: john x delenn #nancy sheridan has all the rights #open and ready for prompts

[thelennondiaries]

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full name :  olivia  rania  carroll nickname(s) :  liv, livi age : twenty - three birth date : december 13th birth place : manhattan ,  ny siblings :  n/a gender :  cis  female  ( she / her )
 orientation : bisexual  biromantic occupation :  college student face claim : h.ailee s.teinfeld

        to put it nicely, olivia was a surprise. a mistake would be too heavy of a word and frankly lennon had made too many mistakes in his life. if he was being honest with himself his daughter was the one thing he got right in life. call it friendship solidarity, but some how some way ( with lots of alcohol involved ) lennon managed to have a wild night with tahani’s cousin. that wild night led to olivia. in no way was lennon ready to be a father. he could barely take care of himself let alone another human but somewhere in his mind he thought this was his fresh start, his big chance to do something right. he tried to be a good dad. he went to all the doctor visits, got clean, help paint a nursery and all that shit you’re supposed to do when attempting to be a good dad. it was working for sometime. lennon felt he could be part of this world and part of his daughter world but when olivia turned two he relapsed and lennon knew this pipe dream he had would never come to fruition. so he left.

olivia didn’t grow up without. her mother was well off which meant by proxy olivia was well off. she had everything she ever wanted at her fingertips. the only thing that she did want that she couldn’t have was a relationship with her father. lennon would come around here and there and always write her sappy poems on her birthday but it was never enough to build and actual relationship, not like she wanted, but olivia made so with the scraps she was given. her childhood was a rather lonely one. olivia wasn’t good at making friends. she was awkward and honestly a little weird at times. she was known not to have a filter. she was a hyper child so to keep her preoccupied olivia was enrolled into many things to be a well rounded adult. her interests were more into sportier endeavors. ballet didn’t last long but the lessons came in handy for other interest. she had a knack for gymnastics, archery and fencing. it got her many trophies and medals along the way. the accolades were nice but they didn’t fill the void she felt.

unfortunately, olivia was her father’s daughter. she had managed to keep up appearances long enough. it wasn’t easy living up to everyone’s expectations. in some ways she understood why her father didn’t because it seemed easier just to be a disappointment. at least people knew not to expect anything from you yet so much was riding on olivia’s shoulders at all times. it was only a matter of time before she stumbled.

that stumbling came in the form of a dare. she was never one to back down from a challenge. she was known for running into things head first without a plan. normally, money could be the solution. to put her skills to the test she was dared to ring the bell on the ravenwood campus with her bow and arrow. her first attempt she hit the bell with ease, however it didn’t ring, to prove a point she tried again this time aiming for the rope. it worked. olivia felt triumphant for a moment until ... the bell tower collapsed. 

eventually the carroll was going to kick in, olivia just hoped it wouldn’t have been such an expensive and embarrassing moment when it did. of course her mother was not happy about it. she said olivia was rich and young, which was a deadly combination because she thought she was invincible which olivia got the reality check that she wasn’t. so as punishment, all her credit cards were cancelled. to make matters worse for olivia, her father was trying to actually rekindle a relationship after all these years and be a quote ‘good father’ to her now. honestly the notion is more stressful than sentimental in her eyes. it was easier when he was just a birthday card to her.

random  facts

terrible at math like please don’t ask her anything related to it

loves dogs been waiting for the day she can adopt one

the one sport she doesn’t do is basketball if only to spite her dad a little

despite the shortcomings with her dad, olivia is very family oriented. she cares a lot about people around her. although it hard at times she tries to be a source of light, she wants to do good, see people smile and help even though most times she feels she does the exact opposite 

likes going to galas and fancy party for the fancy finger food. she can fuck up some cucumber sandwiches

likes to be super humble about being rich and often lies about it so people will actually like her for her and not what she can get them

#chw2gen

[scripted-downfall]

Have you received any asks about OUAT recently? I was going to ask you about your favorite characters and ships, but I don't think that I ever sent anything in.

I have not received any prior to this, but I'm happy to have gotten yours now! I warn you now that I'm writing this purely off the top of my head, without having rewatched in a good half-year at minimum, but I shall do my best!

Favorite characters: All the conventional villains, for sure. It helps that I'm a big fan of character development (both in terms of their evolutions on-show, and in terms of looking at how they became they villains --- or "villains", depending on the case --- that they ended up being), and just analysis in general. I loved Regina and Rumple ever since their introductions in s1, and Hook ever since his in s2. How much I like their characters varies by season, of course, but they're all really enjoyable to watch, more or less throughout. (e.g. Rumple was a character I adored in the first three seasons, and then he became one I love to hate... if that makes sense?) Zelena was another awesome villain, and so was Peter Pan. All of the performers did a really good job, the writing was usually pretty ubiquitously good/interesting, and, frankly, they tend to be less hypocritical. Also, Jefferson and Will Scarlet were two characters I always remember really fondly but thought we didn't see enough of; I've never been able to watch the Wonderland version of OUAT, though, and I think they both get developed in there? I'll have to find a way to watch that one of these days.

Potential hot take: most of the outright "heroes", I don't tend to like. I like Emma --- but she's not really a conventional "hero", so that isn't really a surprise --- and I probably like all of them at some point or another (except the Blue Fairy. not her. ever.) but it's a rare "hero" who ranks in my favorites book. I did really like Robin Hood, and I can't quite tell if he's a "hero" or not... I mean, my instinct is to say yes, but he did have the whole chaotic good outlaw, steal-from-the-rich-give-to-the-poor thing going. (Luckily, since OUAT basically thrived on changing perceptions on the definition of hero vs villain, maybe it doesn't much matter. I honestly can't keep track of who's what at any given time since it's so blurred.) I also felt like his character suffered a bit as his part of the show went on, and he kinda got diluted to just being a love interest... but I haven't watched in a while, like I said, so maybe that's just a mis-recollection.

As for ships... I definitely appreciate Captain Swan (Emma and Hook), and I very much don't like Swanfire (Emma and Bae). (Note: my issues with SF come, not from an issue with it interfering in CS --- I, personally, am a fan of multishipping, and recognizing that someone can have a good relationship with multiple people at varying points in their lives --- but from an issue with SF itself, and with Baelfire in general.) I wish that Milah had been more developed, but what little we saw of Millian (Milah and Killian) seemed decent; she definitely seemed way happier as a pirate queen than in her unhealthy life with Rumple. I always felt like Mulan should have at least had a chance to talk to Aurora and see if they could work things out (especially because I never liked OUAT!Phillip, ngl). I have vague memories of being on board with Outlaw Queen (Regina and Robin), but, as I said, I did feel like Robin eventually got solely relegated to being the Love Interest, and I don't think that did his character justice.

A brief bonus section: Rumbelle (Rumple and Belle) might have started out okay, but it quickly devolved into being unhealthy, so I can't in good conscience list it as a pure favorite... I think it was decent at first --- again, it's been a bit since I watched s1/s2 --- so that's why it gets mentioned, but the tail end of s3 and on through s4? That's when he goes back to lying and manipulating, and the ship crashes (imo).

I hope that answers your question decently, and, if you have a specific character/ship you wanted me to address more in detail, I'm happy to answer something else! Thanks for the ask!

#answered asks #scripted downfall asks answered #guess i need an ouat tag huh? #i push the [ask] button and she answers usually (sd)