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#and what “saving” looks like to them is very different than how others see it
scribblestatic · 1 day
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Sheepzun Posting~
----
Luo Binghe was frustrated.
He'd left his Shizun behind on Qing Jing Peak to see what was happening. As his Shizun had noted, indeed, there was something amiss.
Demons infiltrated Cang Qiong Mountain.
He rushed forward toward Qiong Ding Peak since it seemed the demons intended to isolate those disciples the most. On the way, he slayed a few smaller demons, carefully using the techniques his Shizun instilled in him. After all, it was different to practice something and to actually use it.
Despite his inexperience combatting something so human-shaped, he was able to dispatch them fairly quickly. He had yet to strain a muscle as he continued on his way.
He eventually arrived at the main hall of Qiong Ding, a crowd of disciples from a few peaks struggling against the might of the main hoard of demons. Luo Binghe quickly jumped into the fray, saving one disciple from having his head bashed in. Several were already wounded, cornered and unable to escape.
Though he didn't have his spiritual sword yet, he did his best to beat back the incoming demons. These ones were larger than the imp-like demons before, just as tall or taller than his comrades and clearly more shrewd.
How dare they strike! These demons really were despicable!
But, as he kicked a demon back, a gust of wind suddenly began pressuring the demons' side. A flash of light flickered, and a familiar sword stabbed into another demon trying to kill a different disciple.
Before he could say anything, some of the Qing Jing disciples that arrived with or before him began calling out.
"It's Immortal Master Shen!"
"Martial Uncle Shen!!"
His...Shen Qingqiu landed gingerly on the ground, looking as unflappable as he always did, loftily looking down on others. His presence felt stronger than before, so he surely broke through at least one stage. It hadn't taken very long for him, despite the immortal not breaking through a realm since the time he became a disciple.
Luo Binghe's senses triggered, and he moved out of the way just in time to avoid Ming Fan rushing past him, relief extremely evident in his ecstatic expression. He watched as the boy spread his arms to present their master, grinning in the direction of the demons.
"Demon girl! My Shifu is already here, see you if you dare to be arrogant anymore!"
Finally, the tide returned to the side of righteous cultivation, the disciples no longer cornered as they all sidled up to Shen Qingqiu for support. Luo Binghe finally sheathed his sword once the sides were cleanly split, the demons on the defensive with the disciples and master now standing in the way of an easy exit.
And so, Luo Binghe made the mistake of thinking himself safe.
He was swiftly reminded he wasn't upon hearing the immortal master call his name to face the largest, most fearsome competitor of all three trials.
Shen Qingqiu wasn't aware that he'd been training with another teacher. That his Shizun was present on Qing Jing Peak. Or, if he was, he never said anything about it. Besides, few, if any, Qing Jing disciples were aware of Shizun's presence. He kept himself carefully concealed.
Regardless, Shen Qingqiu likely knew he was barely trained in Qing Jing's martial arts. After Shizun pointed out the uselessness of his cultivation manual, Luo Binghe could only assume this sabotage was intentional. And now, the immortal had him facing a demon that would be a struggle for some of Qing Jing's instructors to handle.
Did... Did Shen Qingqiu want him dead? Why?
But Luo Binghe didn't have the luxury of time to question the immortal's reasoning. Instead, he put his whole body into dodging the swing of the large demon's sledgehammer, watching as the ground cracked under the pressure of its collision.
Getting hit by that once, he could probably handle with a few injuries. Getting hit several times...
This was a fight to the death.
So, using everything he learned from hunting animals closer to the base of the mountain for food and from training with his Shizun, he sought to bring death upon his opponent. If he tried to do anything less, he'd die instead.
Fleeing would definitely be the best course of action here. But with everyone's eyes on him, he couldn't flee. He was cornered.
Dodging as much as possible, he looked for a gap in the elder demon's defenses, but it was all covered with that dastardly poisoned armor. If he could at least find the straps keeping it on him, he could, essentially, break the tortoise's shell.
He had to keep himself from becoming a splatter on the pavement first, though--
"Ughh!!"
Luo Binghe barely had time to prepare before the sledgehammer slammed into his side. He could immediately feel his arm bruise, but he leaned with the force pushing him, then helped the energy leave him by rolling, quickly returning to his feet.
'You don't have horns, so instead of confronting force head-on, you should try to lean with it. Help the energy escape so it doesn't act entirely on your body.'
It hurt, but he was still standing. With a dash, he avoided another slam from the sledgehammer.
However, his energy was starting to wane. Usually, a prey animal would have much more room to move and to find an escape. He could not escape, and so, it was a battle of stamina and interest. As long as he could keep moving and avoid death, he could wear down on the elder demon's patience, leading him to make mistakes...
But Luo Binghe had less stamina than his opponent.
He was starting to get hit more and more. Blood was crawling up his throat as he felt bruises purple under his clothes.
Panting, sweat dripped off his face. If he let himself hesitate for too long, he'd start to lose focus, his vision swimming. His heart beat frantically in his ears.
He could distantly hear the disciples behind him call his battle a one-sided beating, bemoaning his inevitable loss. The demons were starting to laugh and ridicule him, telling him to dance, dance, and dance more.
How frustrating...
How frustrating...
If he was to die here, it would not be the demons that killed him.
Shen Qingqiu... His blood would be on Shen Qingqiu's hands.
Although he had loosely clung to the idea that the immortal master would one day treat him like he was worth the same time and effort as any other Qing Jing disciple, at this moment, he finally laid those hopes to rest. Instead, heady resentment, barely held back by his reverence, began to burst through and cloud his mind.
The hammer was moving. He needed to dodge. He needed to--
A forceful voice interrupted his thoughts. It echoed in his mind like a gong, clearing out all the noise, save for that single line.
'Luo Binghe, you will win.'
...
Shizun?
That was definitely his Shizun's voice.
Then, that meant he was watching him. Somewhere behind him, his Shizun was watching over him, voicing his thoughts only to him.
And though he couldn't trust the words of anyone else, he could trust his Shizun.
He said he would win. That meant his Shizun truly believed that he would.
There came a warmth to his chest, spreading to his other limbs, enough that his eyes burned with the urge to cry tears of happiness. Oh... Oh how good it felt, for someone to believe in him despite all odds! To care about him!
It was all he had ever wanted from anyone, and it was something his Shizun gave him so freely.
But now was not the time to cry.
A cool calmness washed over him from his head to his feet. His once wavering vision focused as he managed, barely, to dodge the swing coming at him, leaning backwards before flipping, landing back onto his feet.
His body ached. He turned his head to spit out loose blood before licking his teeth. He was against an opponent with decades of experience on him. The demons were still cheering for his demise, for him to lose. Shen Qingqiu was still waiting for him to mess up and perish.
But he would win.
His Shizun commanded it.
---
There was a shift in the energy around the battle.
It started slowly, with the demons continuing to jeer at Cang Qiong for their inevitable defeat.
But then, Elder Tian Chui's hammer missed again.
And again. And again. And again.
The disciples, once disheartened and restless, began to perk up.
Luo Binghe dodged another swing, his gaze strong and serene. It was as though he simply moved out of the way, like dodging a mere stick instead of a hammer. At one point, he merely tilted his head a few scant cun away as the hammer's head passed it. It didn't even scratch his ear before he twisted away.
At this, the demons began going silent, and like before, the tide returned to the cultivators of Cang Qiong, and instead of mourning a loss that had yet to happen, they began cheering for a victory they could now see in the horizon.
Frustration began to color Elder Tian Chui's movements as he struggled to hit the boy. But Luo Binghe carefully avoided each swipe, looking for a good opening.
Everyone could see that the elder was completely covered in spiked armor, save for his face and fists. No one was sure how Luo Binghe could combat that, but his newfound confidence influenced those watching.
Even Sha Hualing began watching the cultivator boy closer, humming under her breath as she inspected him. This little bud could prove very troublesome in the future if allowed to grow. Unless Elder Tian Chui ended him here, she'd need to employ some more subtle tactics.
Luo Binghe avoided another swing, but then he stood firm, bearing his sword.
Had he found it? An opening? But no one could see it anywhere!
Enraged, the demon elder held his hammer firmly and thrust it forward with a bellow.
But, much to everyone's surprise, instead of dodging, Luo Binghe's qi began to flow off of his skin. Then, it disappeared, condensing into his sword--not even a spiritual sword, but one intended for training.
A flicker of light appeared at the tip, and the tip of the sword and eye of the hammer collided.
A beat of silence. Then, like lightning, Luo Binghe's qi shot through the hammer's eye, up the handle and grip, and burst into the meridians in Elder Tian Chui's hand, up his arms.
The clear, whitish blue qi polluted his meridians and cracked through them.
Elder Tian Chui, who had several hundreds of years of cultivation, cried out in pain as the meridians in his hands stung, like thousands of bees and hornets stinging him from the inside. The pain was enough for him to drop his hammer, much to the shock of the demons behind him.
Although Luo Binghe's sword now had a prominent dent in the tip, he still ran forward, gathering qi around him. He swung his sword toward the elder's other hand, slashing through the skin of his knuckles as more painful qi found and bled into him.
Luo Binghe swiftly backed away as the demon cried out again.
From his short move forward, he was able to see the slight gaps in the armor.
From then on, instead of a mouse facing a cat, a snake was circling a pheasant it had already poisoned.
With careful slashes and stalking, Luo Binghe cut the straps keeping much of the armor on his body. Cut by cut, Elder Tian Chui's vambraces and greaves fell to the ground, leaving his arms and legs exposed to the open air.
Luo Binghe didn't waste a single moment, slashing incessantly at the demon as he channeled more painful spiritual qi into his demonic body.
Finally, he gathered his qi into his left hand and, with a burst, shot it at the demon's chest. It flew forward, then exploded right in front of him.
The elder demon cried out once more, then fell onto his back, disarmed and almost fully disrobed. His helmet fell off his head, rolling on the ground.
For a few moments, both the demons and disciples went quiet.
Then, Cang Qiong's side began an uproarious applause!!
Amazing! They just witnessed something one would never see in hundreds of years! A single disciple, not even the head disciple, managed to win against an elder demon with hundreds of years of cultivation under his belt!
Qiong Ding disciples ran up to him first, applauding his success and praising his technique as Luo Binghe's adrenaline finally calmed. He took their praise in stride, though he seemed to look a bit out of place, like he was unsure of what to do about them. Instead, he was looking around as though in search of someone.
Of course, most would assume he was looking for his Shifu, so one disciple pointed in his direction, Luo Binghe looking over.
Shen Qingqiu's expression was outwardly impassive, but now, the boy could see the underlying rage in his darkened eyes. The spine of his fan was cracked from the force of his clenched fist.
Luo Binghe looked away, still searching for someone else as the cheering increased.
A little further off, Liu Mingyan gazed at Luo Binghe with a mix of awe and envy. Neither of them had their spiritual swords, but Luo Binghe's results were so much more outstanding than her own. She quietly decided that he could potentially make for a good rival, someone to look to in order to improve her own cultivation. She'd have to look out and encounter him more often, if only to see what he did to train.
Sha Hualing's opinion that she couldn't leave the boy alone did shift, though it was mixed with anger at the situation. Of course, this 'Luo Binghe' was quite powerful and handsome. If only he wasn't a cultivator... But perhaps there was something more behind his power. She'd need to investigate it, and she knew just the demon to consult.
But first and foremost...
“...The Central Plains people of the Human Realm have talents as expected, for such a young hero to come out. Ling-er really admires," she pleasantly gritted out, her gaze sharp.
Shen Qingqiu turned toward her with a scoff, eyes narrowed.
"We've accommodated your tryst and tolerated your unannounced presence for quite some time now, Young Miss. You would be wise to withdraw, since we were so underprepared to facilitate your family's curiosity. Surely it's been sated, and you all have learned well."
The disciples, drunk on victory, jeered at the demons, Sha Hualing's eye resisting the urge to twitch.
Eventually, she gave in. However, it was clear that her demons were outmatched. Unless the tides turned once more, they were going to return empty-handed. And that was if they could return at all. Surely the disciples were upset at their visit and the injuries they wrought on the sect. Now believing they could win, they would surely be out for blood!
This all should've worked out, if not for...
Sha Hualing finally chose where to direct her anger, grabbing Elder Tian Chui's hair as he sat up, wounded and bleeding sluggishly from many cuts. With his hair in her firm grasp, she smacked him across his bare face several times.
“To lose to such a young disciple under Elder Shen in a fight and in such an ugly manner! You’ve lost face for all demons!”
"This one is incompetent!" the elder cried out, interrupted by the scratch of her nails across his cheek. "Begging the saintess for punishment!"
"Wretched cur! To think you would humiliate us like this! How dare you call yourself an elder!"
"Begging Saintess for punishment!!"
Shen Qingqiu sniffed at the display, fanning himself leisurely.
"This master finds your behavior incredibly uncultured, Young Miss. If you wish to discipline your subordinates, do so off our esteemed mountain. You all have long overstayed your welcome."
After a few more biting words, Sha Hualing did an about-face, forcing herself to smile. "Elder Shen's words are right. This Ling-er lost herself for a moment after seeing the inexplicable talent of your sect's young gentleman, comparing him to the waste under her own command. Elder Shen, please excuse this one."
She turned her back to them, her expression chilled as ice as she stared down at the dishonored elder.
"Elder Du Bi fighting and losing to Elder Shen is a matter of course. For you to also lose your trial, against a sect disciple no less... You don't need me to say anymore. See to yourself."
Elder Tian Chui understood her order immediately, feeling his heart sink. This invasion was only supposed to be a time for them to rough up and kill a few cultivators, humiliating them for their own honor.
But now, he was the one humiliated, the only one who truly lost against Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. But it wasn't against Immortal Master Shen. No, it was against that little doll of a boy who he beat around until he spat up blood! But instead of ending the play, he was the one on the ground instead!
Malice fueled him, pushing through the pain still tingling in his limbs from the spiritual qi that polluted them. while he was mostly disarmed, he still had his breastplate, the spikes coated in Without A Cure.
That little weedling... He'd see the end to him today!
He moved as though he was going to kneel in shame, watching that curly-haired human boy stop looking around, surrounded by his peers as they inquired about his health.
Instead, he steadied himself, grabbing his hammer.
Then, with a burst of physical power, he shot up, running full-tilt toward the boy. His arms raised, his hammer prepared to strike, as he bellowed with all the fury he felt in his heart!
Luo Binghe had calmed down, fatigue bleeding into his body, so his senses had uncharacteristically dulled. As such, he was somewhat sluggish when he heard the incoming demon, looking up too late as he approached. The disciples, once around him and praising him, quickly scattered, leaving him standing alone as his vision blurred with exhaustion.
'Ah...' he thought, 'Shizun did tell me about this, didn't he...'
The pain shooting through the elder demon was too much, causing him to stumble. He was going to fall too quickly for Without A Cure to make contact with the boy. But it was clear he was dazed! His hammer would complete the job for him!
He would be well worth his own name!
As though time slowed, the demon's hammer approaches the top of Luo Binghe's head.
But before it reached, some invisible thing rushed forward, shoving disciples aside.
Its body was a blur as the qi obfuscating its appearance and presence diminish.
Its head was low, an ivory white coming into view, as the smell of fields and grass emanated from it.
Then, it pushed its front legs of the ground, its head high. The curled horns attached to its skull slamed against the incoming sledgehammer.
Instead of the hammer continuing its downward motion, it yanked up so quickly, it was as though a rope was attached to it, the other end hidden somewhere in the heavens. The sudden move stretched the demon's arm to its limits, delaying his fall.
There was a sharp crack, a pop, unlike anything those present had ever heard before.
A moment later, the sledgehammer, from its face to its handle, wavered--
Then shattered like glass.
Only the grip remained, which Elder Tian Chui clung to as he finally fell chest-first on the ground.
His right arm...the bones in it felt wrong. Were they...broken?
Broken from the vibrations the grip of his hammer couldn't withstand?
His left hand, which had let go, bleeding from his poor grip before, helped him as he tried to look up.
A ram stared back at him.
But it wasn't like any ram he'd seen before.
Its gleaming eyes focused on him, horns curled and vicious, without a single crack. Wavy wool, more akin to hair than cotton, hung off its body, similar to a yak. A single red spot stood out on the ram's forehead.
The sheep began stepping backward, but from the focus on him, the demon could tell it wasn't to retreat.
"Wh-Wha--"
Before he could say what he wanted, the ram rose up on its back legs, stepping forward with its front ones bent.
Step, step, step, step--
Just as Elder Tian Chui attempted to speak, the ram's steps shifted into a thrust, its horns angled downwards.
The ram's head collided with the demon elder's.
With it, a flash of spiritual qi--
And a burst of red.
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kmartmithril · 19 hours
Text
Cold Conviction: a one off about what Lucy Frostblade’s last moments might have been like. Some mention of gore, mention of death. Some creative liberties taken and I have not gone back to check this for spelling or grammar ( forever posting a first draft 🫡)
“Please, Lucy- just listen to me—“
“Do you know what you’re asking me, Kipperlily?”
Tears well in Lucy’s eyes, a hand on her chest tugging at a well loved sweater. There’s pain in her heart, pain for the brief second in which she considered what is being asked of her. The pain of giving up on something she has held so dear for so long.
Ruvina. She couldn’t give up on her goddess, the very thing that connected her to her culture. Harsh as the cold and the wind was, she was a part of Lucy’s heritage, and keeping close to others made them warm against her cold. Why would she need anything else?
There’s a whisper at the back of her mind, the pull of something familiar, as Kipperlily promises something strong, something powerful. Something full of rage. They can face down whatever, they just have to give themselves over to this god. The sensation of warmth, of light, a counterbalance to Ruvina’s own domain.
The warmth becomes a burning heat. A signal that something is wrong.
Some gods speak directly to their followers, others give them visions and feelings to interpret. Ruvina is trying to tell her something, a warning against a darker path.
Lucy looks down at her hands. Hands that have healed, hands that held Kilperlily’s as they promised to watch each other’s backs. How they held hands as Kipperlily argued in favor of keeping the name “The High Five Heroes”. Hands that held her dying friend in the Mountains of Chaos not long ago.
They are now clenched in defiance against stacking odds.
Emboldened, she takes a strong stance against her friends. Her friend.
A tear escapes her eye.
“I won’t be bullied into this.” She declares. “Don’t you hear yourself? You want me to pledge myself to a different god so you can get your revenge?”
Kipperlily’s back is to the woods, a dagger in her hand. Her brow creased so hard Lucy wonders if it might be stuck that way. Beside them, the lake glistens in the dim light from the moon over head. Even in this light, Lucy can see a mix of fear, anger, and sadness in Kipperlily’s eyes. It’s the anger that’s the strongest, replacing the annoyance and frustration that had been so prevalent in the past couple of years.
“You’re making a mistake.” Kipperlily says through gritted teeth, her grip on the dagger intensifying. “We can be heroes! we can do the things we’ve only dreamed about doing! We can be better than them!”
There is venom on the “them”. Kipperlily is blinded by her ambition, a need to surpass someone who seemingly has it all. The tragic backstory, the skills, the friends. It was something Lucy could never fully understand, but she listened to her talk about wanting to be one of the best rogues in the world, how she wanted the chance to save someone - save the world.
Lucy herself never had any quarrels with the Bad Kids, another adventuring party at their school. One of many, but one of the only ones to really take a stand in recent memory. They’d killed Kalvaxus at the end of their Freshman year and by all accounts, that was a pretty rad thing to do. Killed by Riz Gukgak, then slain again by the Maidens who, understandably, wanted to get their revenge.
But Kipperlily was seemingly upset by the fact that Riz had this tragic tale to him, that he “got” to have his father eaten by Kalvaxus and “get” to have that revenge arc. Kipperlily wanted for nothing, and yet she wanted for something that would give her glory.
At first it was petty jealously, but ever since her death, her tune had changed. They all had, in fact. It was gradual, but Lucy was beginning to notice a rage building in all of them. Subtle in some, Mary Ann was still Mary Ann and Oisin still appeared relatively calm, but she could see it in them too. She was starting to feel very lonely.
Lucy’s hands are balled into fists. “Is that all you want? You want to be better than them?”
“Yes!” Kipperlily sounds exasperated. “What’s so hard to understand about that?!”
Anger boils in Lucy.
“Isn’t it enough that we’re together?!?” She snaps. “Is it not enough for you that we get to hang out with our friends? Think about everything we could be doing! All the problems we can solve- we can get better and go back to the Mountains and do what we set out to do in the first place!”
Kipperlily looks down at the dagger in her hand, then back up at Lucy. For a split second, she sees the young halfing girl she met on the first day of school, a book clutched to her chest, a bright smile on her face. She thinks about how in the following months, they’d braid each other’s hair and share secrets no one else knew. She thinks about their promise. A promise to face the world together.
“Don’t you trust me?” Kipperlily asks. Another twinge of pain, this time at the deception. Kipperlily knows how to get what she wants. “I’m doing this for us! When the rage god returns, we can be glorious, Lucy. The two of us- together.”
Ruvina’s warning returns. Warmth, heat, fire - Rage.
Lucy stands her ground. She shakes her head and Kipperlily’s bravado falters.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I can’t turn my back on everything I’ve ever known.” She pauses. All she has to do is say one thing, and she knows what’s coming. But she can’t back down either. “Im sorry you can’t be him.”
Rage flairs in Kipperlily’s eyes. Shes too quick, she’s on her in a matter of seconds, cold steel cutting through Lucy’s body. Lucy closes her eyes, accepting her fate and falling back with arms outstretched.
It’s cold. It’s so cold. Shes doesn’t even feel it as Kipperlily continues to slice at her out of sheer anger.
She doesn’t want to die. She doesn’t want to leave her friends, her family, everything behind, but little choice is given to her.
There’s an embrace, deep and cold, as Ruvina takes her in. But then the feeling is jerked away, warmth and light finding her instead.
No, not warmth and light. Rage, it’s the heat of rage.
A hand reaches out to her, coal black with ribbons of fierce hot magma. She looks up, seeing a stern face looking down at her coldly. In this moment, she realizes the connection to Ruvina.
“I’m sorry, but my answer is no.”
The hand withdrawals. A flash of something on the face - pride. Pride in her conviction, in a sense of personal justice.
The heat fades to warmth, then the loving embrace of a goddess returns, briefly, to cradle her. Shes not sure if she’s at peace, but she’s fine to rest here until such a time comes.
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ultrainfinitepit · 11 hours
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Hello!! I return with more pin making questions :]
In my first ask you mentioned that you'd be willing to go into detail about your favorite social medias, and as I have basically only used Tumblr that would be super useful!
It would also be wonderful if you'd be willing to talk about your experiences with the different shopfronts that you've used, but I understand if you can't due to partnership stuff.
And the last question for now, Newsletters! How did you go about setting one up/what program you use/how long does it take to write an update/etc.
Thank you so much!! You're awesome!!!
Hi again :)) sure I can answer this, this is going to be a very long post so I'll put my answers under the cut.
Same disclaimer as last time that all this is just what has worked for me or what I've personally observed, that doesn't mean this is all objectively correct or factual. Others will have different mileage or find other things that work even better.
Social Media
The three platforms I prefer the most are Tumblr, Instagram, and Twitter.
General recommendations:
Respond to people's comments, even with something as simple as a "thank you" for a compliment. This will help build engagement and foster a good relationship with your audience.
Take nice product photos: keep your pin in focus with a nice background and good lighting. Often you only get one chance for your product to leave a good impression!
Pick only a few social media profiles to manage. Don't stretch yourself too thin such that you can't engage with your audience on all your social media.
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Tumblr
Posts have a long but sporadic lifespan thanks to the queue (sporadic means, they will exhibit random bursts of activity). And you can post large image sets and long text posts with links, for this reason it is my favorite platform.
Getting a following on Tumblr is largely luck-based. Users rebel against posts being pushed into their feed by the recommendation algorithm or boosts. Users find posts via other users and not so much the tags, although the tagging system is leagues better than Instagram's (which no longer shows most recent posts and only shows popular posts).
On Tumblr I get the most traffic from:
Responses to user submissions - for example, drawing people's angel requests.
Tag yourself posts
Silly or cute doodles and comics - especially if people can overlay their fandom darlings onto these posts.
Compilations of Pride-related designs, particularly of popular flags
I have noticed over the years, people do not reblog as much as in the past, so it's harder to get your posts noticed.
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Instagram
In my opinion this is the easiest platform to grow an audience on. Instagram has a very predictable set of criteria for showing your posts to other users, through personal experience it is something like this:
Post once a day.
Post one Reel a day.
No more than three Story shares.
If you deviate from this for too long, or post too many times in a day, Instagram will deprioritize showing your posts to other users. This schedule can be a lot, so if possible I recommend having a buffer of saved up posts and Reels.
Instagram users are pickier about what they like to see. I recommend keeping your profile looking neat and professional; WIPs don't seem to do well there. Instagram users like illustrations and heavily-visual posts; they do not respond well to slides with text on them unless it is a tutorial or tag-yourself post.
Some users like to put memes or other silly images at the end of their posts. I personally don't do this, but I've been told the reason for it is: people share the silly images and that gains more traffic for the post even if they are not sharing the main content.
On Instagram I get the most traffic from:
Fanart of recently popular characters
Tag yourself posts
Pride-related art for popular flags
Cute, colorful illustrated creatures
Anything that asks for audience feedback in the comments. More comments means more engagement, which means it's bumped up in the algorithm.
Hosting monthly art challenges such as Angeltober
Bare chested men
And I have noticed DTIYS challenges are popular and a great way for people to find your profile, although I haven't hosted one of these yet.
Tags on Instagram appear to matter less than in the past, but I still think they are worth using. Try to tag for the content in your post (such as "#biblically accurate angel") instead of using tags for artists or small businesses (such as "#smallbusinessstrong"). Everyone else is using these tags so you have lots of competition, but no one is trawling through those tags so you have less engagement from them. Users are looking for specifically the content they like, they don't care who is posting it.
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Twitter
The most arcane out of these three platforms. Getting noticed on Twitter seems to be largely luck-based as well. I had my Twitter profile for a while with little traffic on it until I started posting the new Pride Angels, then it blew up. Hashtags are pretty useless on Twitter and I didn't have many followers before then so I'm not sure why those got popular at that time.
On Twitter I get the most traffic from:
Pride-related art for popular flags
Other relatable art such as for astrological signs
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Dishonorable Mention: TikTok
I have a TikTok but I just use it to crosspost my Instagram Reels. I do not have many followers on TikTok, I do not put effort into it, and I dislike the interface. That being said, I have heard from other creators it is way easier than Instagram to grow on if you are willing to make videos and post every day.
A note on blacklisted words
On Twitter, Instagram, and possibly Tumblr too: words like "shop" "link" "commission" etc. may cause your post to be deprioritized. This is because social media platforms do not want you going off of them to some other site to spend money elsewhere. That's why you'll notice people censoring these words ("shop" to "sh0p").
Personally I dislike doing this, it just makes me feel silly, so I don't bother. But I will admit, it hurts my posts. So this is something to keep in mind if you want to do shop promotion on social media.
Shops
The shops I run are, in the order of making them:
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Redbubble
The lowest possible barrier to entry for a merch artist: they literally do everything from production to shipping for you, and all you do is provide the artwork. The trade-off is that it's very hard to make any significant money from Redbubble (I make maybe a few cents at most from each sale), and you have no control over the quality of the products.
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Etsy
My referral link here.
While Etsy can be imposing at first, it is probably the easiest out of all the marketplaces to start out on. There is a lot of information to fill out to get started, so take it slow so you don't get overwhelmed. It does get easier after the first listing. Once you make one listing you can just keep duplicating and changing it a little so you don't have to keep making listings from scratch.
Etsy claims you need ten listings in your shop before you open it, but you can ignore that.
Once you've gotten started, there's lots of little tricks to learn such as letter mail shipping, all about VAT, improving listings, sections, and so on that I could go into more detail on if anyone is interested. For now I'll just focus on the platform itself.
I like that Etsy has a marketplace search, as a customer it is really nice to use. I like that it has one big cart for all the items I am looking at, and that it has a favorites system. I also like as a customer how each shop is uniform; I know exactly how to search through each shop and what format to expect. I do enjoy artists' custom shops but, sometimes their interfaces are tough to navigate.
Etsy is reasonably good at showing your items to people, which is the number one reason I recommend it for beginners. Just make sure to put effort into your listings such as tagging them, adding nice photos, and videos.
They have protection features built-in such as covering refunds if an item is delivered but the customer claims to not have received it. Etsy also enables international shipping with VAT which is great for EU/UK customers. My biggest gripe with Etsy is the fees, which I've already complained about.
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Gumroad
Not much to say about Gumroad really. I only use it to list digital items such as PDFs of my lineart. I think it's saved me a few inquiries from people looking for my art for tattoos. Since all that art is for free on social media anyway, I don't charge for purchases on Gumroad. That's just a personal choice though.
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Mercari
Not much to say about Mercari either. I use it to list pins from my personal collection, though I've seen a handful of pin makers use it for the pins they've created. I think the Mercari listing creation is atrocious: they like to recommend titles for your items when you upload new images, and will overwrite existing titles.
I've been considering moving away from Mercari, they recently switched their fee model so now buyers pay fees instead of sellers. This means while sellers can lower their prices, buyers get sticker shock and then ask for discounts on top of already-discounted items. I'm only on there because it's the most popular place for second-hand pin selling.
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Shopify
So far I've really enjoyed Shopify. The setup was nightmarishly hard, not to turn anyone off of it but it took me literal months. You can import your listings from Etsy to Shopify but then you have to redo all the SKUs, link up photos to variants, and so on. If you have a ton of listings like me it takes a while. If you only have a few it is more worth it or, might even be worth starting out on if you can do sufficient promotion.
The major advantage of Etsy over Shopify is the marketplace feature: if you don't need the help of Etsy to promote your items then Shopify might be the better option to start out on.
I like that Shopify has significantly lower fees vs. Etsy. However, they do payouts differently and in a way I dislike. Etsy will deduct your shipping fees before calculating your payout balance, while Shopify will payout your balance and then charge you for shipping as part of your monthly bill. So you need to make sure to set aside some of your funds always to cover the Shopify shipping charge.
Additionally, to enable certain integrations or features you will need to pay for them monthly, which can add up. To sync my inventory between Shopify, Etsy, and Faire I use Trunk Inventory, which charges me a monthly $60 fee. That's in addition to the monthly Shopify fee.
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Faire
I actually hate Faire despite using it. I was going to use Tundra but Faire drove them out of business (lawsuit pending). Now Faire is the only game in town for wholesale so I'm forced to use them, not that it's done me much good since I haven't had any sales there.
I can rant for ages about Faire's horrendous fees and outdated product import. But if you're a beginner you don't have to worry about wholesale selling, so I'll leave that discussion for another time. If anyone wants to hear more from me about Faire they can send another ask.
My stockists
It's quite hard to give honest reviews of my stockists here, since they might see them so, I'll just share my Linktree for them and you all can investigate on your own and inquire privately.
Newsletter
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I used to use Tinyletter but it shut down, so now I use Email Octopus. Here's a referral link, and you can check out my newsletter sign up page here.
Email Octopus doesn't have a newsletter archive, and the interface is more complicated than Tinyletter's, which I dislike; but I like it better than Tinyletter's replacement Mailchimp.
You can try these out for yourself and see which you like better, it really is personal preference. All newsletter services are essentially the same: all you need is a sign up page, a way to store emails, and an ability to send a newsletter to them.
To get people to sign up for your newsletter, I personally recommend always offering it as a choice. For example, if you run a pin campaign, send an update where you share a link to your newsletter to your backers so they have the option to sign up. Do not export their emails and add them to your newsletter without a choice. I have been on the receiving end of this as a backer/customer and it makes me feel bad: it's extra emails in my inbox I didn't agree to and it feels like the creator misusing my information even if technically they are not. As a fellow creator I totally get why others might do this, it's an effective way to get lots of new newsletter signups at once. I just don't personally like it.
Shopify has a built-in newsletter feature you can use as well if you make a Shopify storefront. From your dashboard you can go to Marketing > Create campaign.
I like to send out a shortened newsletter via Shopify. Usually what I do is copy my full newsletter from Email Octopus to Shopify, and remove any bits not directly related to my Shopify, such as news on crowdfunding campaigns.
Writing your newsletter
Writing a newsletter doesn't take much time, and I think it should be a low effort task. In fact, if you make it too long people will not read it.
Throughout the month leading up to a shop update I will update my newsletter with whatever new items are ready, taking only a few minutes here and there. I include a few photos and I make sure to link to the items once they are listed (truncated example below).
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I will also alert people to any sales or other special offers, news about stockists, and crowdfunding campaigns: anything a potential buyer would be interested in.
I have seen other artists share much longer newsletters with impressive graphics, sections on their art process, personal updates - but for myself I usually skip over that stuff in my inbox, so I don't do it as a creator. For others it might be worth the effort!
Final Thoughts
If you read all this, thank you! I know this was a very long post. I hope it helps at least one of you. I won't keep you much longer: you can find links to everything I mentioned in my Linktree and if you have more questions you can send an ask.
One day I'd like to make a tutorial series for making and selling merch, so this was useful as a draft for that. I would also include manufacturer reviews. If that's something you'd like to see someday you can let me know.
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slotumn · 1 day
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Some notes on how I personally like to write the lords + Rhea+ Shezleth wrt sacrifices and deaths and moral dilemmas they face when they make decisions
Basically,
Edelgard: People will die because of my decisions, but it must be done in order to bring change and ensure more don’t die in the future under an unjust system
Rhea: People will die because of my decisions, but it must be done in order to maintain stability and ensure more don’t die in the future under chaos and turmoil
Dimitri: People have died because of me and my decisions, I know it’s unforgivable no matter what and I will atone for it by avenging them (feral mode)/saving as much as or more than I have killed (post-feral clarity)
Claude: People have died because of me and my decisions, but that was the best I could do in my situation, and as long as I/we stay alive thanks to that I/we still have a chance to turn things around for the better
Byleth: People dying is people dying and nobody knows if any of your decisions will be “justified” until it plays out. I’ll help you get the results that will hopefully “justify” your decisions because I love and support you, but honestly, all that shit you're saying is just cope
Shez: Cool cool, where’s my fucking money
As you can tell the main foils/contrasts I like are Rhea <–> Edelgard, Dimitri <–> Claude, and Shez+Byleth. More rambling about it under the cut
For Rhea and Edelgard, I like to focus on them being similar people at different points of life/the project they’ve dedicated their lives to. I’m sure people have already made the analysis about parallels between them, from losing their families/conquering the continent/etc etc but basically, they have very similar philosophies/attitudes/outlooks, and the difference is whether the current system and dominant ideology is what they like or not.
I think that a young Seiros, fleeing a genocide and recruiting allies in the south, would have had faced similar objections Edelgard did; Nemesis may not be the most benevolent ruler, yes, and we don’t literally believe everything his regime preaches, but at least things are manageable and stable if we play along, especially down here in the south. Do we really need to risk everything we have to go up and fight him? Your ideas hold appeal, but some of us don’t find it appealing enough to die for it.
And similarly, I think Edelgard, if she grew old enough to see her system really take root in society, would say a lot of the same things that Rhea would've liked to say, when younger generations complain; look, what we have isn’t perfect, but you really don’t want to see what it was like before, and the fact you can have these complaints at all are a testament to the system I’ve made working. And if you try to burn all this down out of youthful passion, it’s more likely that we will regress instead of progress.
For Dimitri and Claude, it’s about how they deal with guilt; on a personal level, specifically. Politically I think they’d take or dodge responsibility as is necessary lol
Dimitri is straightforward, almost too straightforward. Not great at coming up with excuses, or rather, excusing himself. His way of facing the guilt is very one on one; taking blood for blood, while he's feral. Saving life for life taken, post-feral clarity. And even then, deep down he feels like ("knows") it's will never be enough. And he takes on all that guilt head on even in places where it's not his fault, a.k.a. survivor's guilt.
Claude, meanwhile, dude is a mental gymnastic gold medalist (affectionate). It's not that he doesn't feel guilt, but I think he's very good at seemingly minimizing it, excusing it, and convincing himself that he's better off focusing on other things. As for survivor's guilt, I'm not saying Claude wouldn't ever feel it, but he'd focus on the fact he survived, rather than the guilt.
Finally, Byleth and Shez. Honestly I think they have pretty similar outlooks, it's just a matter of how they explain it lol. The role I like to give these two is reality checkers; because the lords and Rhea can have their debates about Ideology™ and The System™ and Morality™ and Responsibility™ of it all they'd like, but in the end, it's people like Shez and Byleth doing the dirty work and dying on the field for the decisions.
And when people die, the physical, material reality is that they're fucking dead. Attach causes and justifications and obligations and excuses to their corpses as you want, but at the end of the day, it is a corpse and the person is dead. That's the reality they've always lived in, and not just as a one-off incident, either; the thing they do for survival is fighting and killing. They have a "It Is What It Is" type of attitude as a baseline, because, well... it is. Doesn't mean they don't feel things about it. Doesn't mean they don't want to save people where they can. Nonetheless— they know all too well that what happens is what happens.
For this reason, I like to think that grand moralistic judgements are not their thing, no matter the route; they don't even think the lord they sided with is fundamentally more correct/better. Like, come on, when they were asked to choose a house upon arriving at Garreg Mach, they probably weren't weighing their options based on who'd be the most "objectively" "morally" correct if a war broke out between the three (+the Church).
That being said, I think they definitely have a sense of what's good. But it's not the philosophical/abstract type of good you might hear the other four get into debates about. Shez and Byleth's idea of good is, in many ways, very small and inconsequential— but grander concepts of morality can't exist without it. And I like to think that the reason why Shez and Byleth become so important to the side they picked isn't just because of their powers, but also because the constantly they remind others of those small good things.
"Good" to Shez and Byleth is having enough to eat; having warm clothes and bed to sleep in and a roof over their heads; spending time with the people they care about and seeing them safe. It's quite animalistic, in a way; interesting, considering that Agarthans belittle their enemies by calling them beasts.
But I don't think those two would be particularly affected by being called animals for that reason. "These beasts are happy— what about you?"
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aethersflood · 4 months
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Just don't say I didn't warn you. You're Cid now, and if anything happens to him, we're finished.
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three--rings · 7 months
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One thing I haven't seen a lot of talk about in the fandom so far is about the financials of this season.
It took us two whole months to get a confirmation of renewal from Max, and I talked at the time that I think there was probably a lot of heated negotiations going on at the time with contracts and that's why it took as long as it did.
I think we see a huge number of indications of the compromises that were made in order for S2 to be made. One obvious one that has been talked about is being making in in NZ instead of LA, to save $.
But there's also the eight episodes instead of ten. And then the cast aspect. One downside of moving overseas was having to fly out and house the cast, not just pay day wages.
We knew immediately about Guz Khan not coming back, losing Ivan as a character. At the time I was sad but I thought it had the air of a pretty harshly practical call. If you went through the main recurring cast and said okay which character will affect the fewest things, has the least character interactions of anyone? It would be Ivan. (With the only competition being The Swede IMO, but he's Stede's crew and therefore a little more central.)
And then this season started and we got first The Swede sidelined and taken out of major scenes. And then I noticed that different members of the crew were simply absent for long stretches, like Wee John isn't around for ep 5 at all. And then Buttons takes flight.
Lucius and Pete aren't at the party for most of it. Fang isn't in the torture scene. Roach and Fang aren't in the bar. Etc. SCHEDULING IS HAPPENING.
The new characters are almost entirely played by NZ local actors, which is great, but also...cheaper.
In other words there are big signs that they did everything possible to give us a giant cast of almost everyone we love from S1, and cool new characters, in the most economical way possible.
And I'm grateful for it. I'm grateful we got S2, and it looks great, and it's well written, I'm having a blast, and we get to spend more time with this awesome cast.
But I also kinda think it needs to be said that the cost-cutting shows. That it shouldn't have been only 8 episodes, the pacing is off. That we miss every time someone from the ensemble isn't on screen.
That despite what they've put on screen looking very good, there's far less costuming budget, there's less elaborate sets, and it's a little disappointing. And it's clear it's not a lack of will or talent or vision but blatantly lack of money.
Look, streaming networks want brilliant shows that people love (that will get them to subscribe) but they very don't want to pay anyone to make them. That's like, the whole moment we're having right now.
Max puts out promos about how great it is to not have unions messing shit up in NZ. Well I have friends who are union costumers in LA and guess what union costumers did amazing last season. This season, well, I guess Stede got three whole shirts, so that's cool.
So I dunno. It's just stuff I think about. I'm not trying to be negative about the show in any way. I'm extremely happy with this season; I love it more than well, possibly any show I've ever been in fandom for.
But I see you, Max. You're cheap. You weren't that cheap when you were called HBO.
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bunni-v1 · 7 months
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Heyyaaa
May I request dorm leaders finding out you’re a girl please? If it’s too much u can make a part 2
Dorm Leaders Find Out You're a Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Mentions of transphobia (nothing awful, just literally dropping the word lol); Idia is creepy
Info: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Reader (Platonic or Romantic); Fluff, Comedy(?)
🍓This one is gonna be long, like 5.3k words long. I love writing the dorm leaders so damn much <3 Besides, there’s been a long wait for this one, so I hope I make it worth it! You might see some favoritism shine through, but I did my best to keep it even. Hope you all enjoy!
Tags: @kierancaz @danchann33 @arashrita @the-ace-reader @akiyamasmizuki @kitsun369 @bloomstruck (I think I got all of you)
First Years
Ortho Sebek
Second Years
Third Years
-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?
-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.
-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.
-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)
-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)
-So how do you two do it?
-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.
-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.
-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)
-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.
-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 
-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.
-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.
-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.
-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!
-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.
-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…
-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.
-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).
-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.
-So… how do they find out?
Riddle
-Riddle is the last student in Heartslabyul to find out.
-It’s not like he did anything to you for you to hold off on telling him (you know, other than the whole almost killing you that one time thing), it’s just that you don’t feel inclined to tell him. 
-Simple as that.
-He also really has no reason to question your gender. 
-Riddle didn’t have must interaction with people his own age until he came to night raven college, he doesn’t have the same social ideologies as other people do.
-Nightraven college is really his first touch with society outside of his mothers very watchful, conservative eye.
-So, excuse him for not picking up on stupid little gendered norms that the other students do.
-In his eyes, you dress like a man, you act (sort of) like the other male students, and you prefer he/him pronouns. 
-There’s nothing more to it then, right? If you identify as a man, he has no reason not to treat you as such - nor should he suspect you would hide your gender like that.
-Besides, this is an all boys school! Crowley wouldn’t allow you to attend here unless you were also a boy… right?
-He is aware there are exceptions — and you are already QUITE the exception, but surely Crowley wouldn’t be so cruel as to force a young woman to attend an all boys academy.
-Ah, sweet Riddle, ever in denial.
-He isn’t STUPID though. He notices how brotherly Trey is to you. He knows (and has heard) your many “secret sleepovers” with Cater.
-He ignores these things and doesn’t comment on them simply because, well, he likes you!
-He helps to tutor you sometimes, and he’s gotten to know you through that, and he really does come around on enjoying your presence.
-So, he ignores Trey and Cater’s odd behaviors for your sake.
-You keep him and his dorm members in high spirits, why would he want to shoo something like that away?
-He doesn’t really questionthings until he… overhears a conversation between Deuce and Ace. (A rather loud one, for how supposedly secret this topic was meant to be).
-One of them had gotten in trouble with a professor, and he was going to give them a stern scolding when he overheard what they were talking about.
-“Deuce, dude, you’re gonna want to sit down for this one.”
“What is it, I’m busy trying to finish my potionology homework.”
“Seriously this one is crazy, you’re not ready for for it.”
“Ace, if you’re just messing with me I’m going to leave.”
“Dude, the prefect is a girl.”
“…What?”
-Riddle did not bother the two after that. In fact, he just walked back to his room to sit and think about what he just overheard.
-It DID make sense. You didn’t quite fit in with everyone else for reasons outside of your otherworldly origin.
-You acted differently than the typical guy here at NRC, and you seemed to get along with the peers that were more ‘traditionally feminine’ best.
-It would explain Trey’s coddling and Cater’s secretiveness.
-Still, he didn’t want to assume. This was Ace and Deuce, and Ace could just be messing around with Deuce.
-So, at your next tutoring session, he broaches the subject as politely as possible.
-“So, prefect, I have… overheard something that I wanted to ask you about.”
“Oh no, am I in trouble because of Ace and Deuce again.”
“Not… technically… I did, however, overhear them talking about… you being a woman.”
“…I’m gonna kill them.”
“I could collar them for you, if that would help.”
-The confirmation was reassuring for Riddle in multiple ways. 
-1) Ace isn’t as terrible of a person as the thought he was.
-2) He wasn’t crazy in noticing the slight differences in you and your other peers.
-Now, you and Riddle aren’t exactly super close by any means, so your interactions with each other are limited to when you’re either being tutored or with friends in Heartslabyul.
-However, he is notably more nervous than he usually is.
-He doesn’t have some super secret crush on your all of the sudden, he just… never really had a chance to interact with women before.
-His mom kept him very sheltered from the opposite gender, so he has little to no experience with them.
-On top of that, because of his mother, he does have a slight fear of women. He’s afraid he’s going to upset you and you’ll blow a fuse on him or something.
-You have to assure him that you don’t bite and you won’t suddenly start screaming at him for no reason, and then he begins to relax a bit.
-Still, he’s very sweet and gentlemanly to you.
-If you need help with anyone around campus, you should come to him and he will have them dealt with accordingly.
Leona
-Leona “Respects Women” Kingscholar.
-Leona has SLIGHTLY worse smell than Ruggie, but he also knew immediately upon your arrival that you were a girl.
-In fact, he knew you weren’t a trans man, because they smell distinctly different from the typical woman.
-There aren’t many trans people in the Savannah though, so Ruggie not being able to pick up on that doesn’t really shock him.
-Leona, however, has smelled and seen plenty of trans people in his life time — you aren’t one of them.
-He won’t lie, he’s definitely interested in you. Women where he comes from are big and strong and proud, you’re just kind of plain.
-He keeps his ever curious eye on you though, because he’s interested in how you might navigate this whole thing.
-Now don’t get it twisted, he doesn’t care about you, he’s curious about you. 
-If you were to ask him for help on something, he wouldn’t offer it. (Not that you would, you seem particularly averse to him).
-However, if he were to see some creep trying to… well… creep on you, he’d chase them away without ever having you know he did.
-He was your secret bodyguard who wouldn’t admit it even if you held a knife to his throat.
-Still, he stayed out of your way and you stayed out of his. 
-A symbiotic relationship that you weren’t even aware existed… until you got in his way.
-Like Ruggie, when you start getting a little too involved in his ahem business, he gets pretty damn annoyed.
-You’re not exactly a threat to start, but you are a little trouble maker. If you find out what he’s up to, you’ll ruin his plans completely, and he can’t have that.
-However, he’s not exactly comfortable “taking care of you” like he is his male peers.
-He respects women, okay, you can’t blame him for not wanting to purposefully hurt you. (If his mom and brother found out, he’d never hear the damn end of it)
-He sends out Ruggie to scare you off, explicitly telling him he can’t hurt you on purpose.
-He knows Ruggie already has an idea of what’s going on, so he doesn’t have any qualms with telling him to be careful with you.
-Still, despite all this, he doesn’t really broach the topic until he’s forced to.
-He’s made it known to you, at this point, that he knows your secret. 
-He hasn’t caused you any extra trouble since his overblot, and he keeps his dorm members off your back, so you have no reason to interact with him… until, again, you get yourself into trouble.
-This time it’s YOU dragging him into your mess, despite him wanting nothing to do with it.
-You are convincing, though, so he gives and allows you to stay in his dorm room — rent free! Isn’t he so nice.
-Jack offers himself for protection if you need it, but you can see that Ruggie is quite bemused with the whole situation, so you decide to turn him down.
-Leona hasn’t tried anything yet, and he really could if he wanted to.
-You decide you can trust him. (You have to trust him).
-Then presents the issue of sharing a bed.
-Leona isn’t a weird pervert, okay. He isn’t absolutely leaping at the idea to be in bed with you — he’s so sorry.
-Honestly, it makes him a bit… uncomfortable.
-Sharing a bed is something you do with family or someone you’re involved with, not the weird magic-less kid who’s at least three years too young for you.
-So, Leona, ever the women’s rights activist, approaches you with a proposition.
-“Listen, I know you’re a woman and I know you know that. We’re not sharing a bed, there ain’t no way that’s happening.”
“Oh, so would you like the poor helpless homeless woman to sleep on the floor? How cruel can you be Leona.”
“Shut up, I’m not gonna do that to you. Listen, you can have the bed all to yourself and I’ll sleep on the couch, so long as you promise not to tell a single soul about this.”
“I promise.”
-You immediately tell Ruggie the next morning, and he is sure to make sure Leona never forgets it.
-Living with Leona for the short period of time that you do is very insightful!
-He’s actually pretty funny, much smarter than he lets on, and almost brotherly to you. Which does not fit the M.O. you built of him in your head.
-He’s gruff and pushy, but he does it out of genuineness.
-You end up getting really close to him because of it. 
-His quiet and laid-back demeanor are a break from the chaos of everyone else on campus, and he doesn’t make a big deal out of anything so you can just complain and he nods along unbothered.
-Only thing you notice that upsets him is when you bring up guys who bother you.
-Those guys tend to stop bothering you shortly after. How strange…
Azul
-Azul is hands down the last person on campus you want knowing about this.
-Riddle, Ruggie, Trey, Cater and pretty much everyone with half a brain tell you to stay as far away from him as possible.
-You see him in the halls sometimes, and he doesn’t look to bad. Unapproachable, sure, but he’s a rather pretty guy. Well put together and seemingly very smart from what you’ve been told.
-He helped to subdue Grim in the opening ceremony, so you know he’s magically capable. He’s also a house warden, so that goes unspoken, I suppose.
-He seems interested in you, from what you can tell. He always waves at you when he does see you in a sort of fake friendly kind of way. 
-You’ve seen him and his little (large, very large) goonies admiring ramshackle before.
-You’ve also politely asked them to not do that when you moved in, because it freaks you out a lot. To which they all gave you very eerie smiles and walked away.
-They remind you of a very small mafia, and you decided to heed your friends warnings because of that.
-You do so successfully for a long time too. Other than the few previously stated interactions, Azul seems un-inclined to bother you, and you don’t want to catch his leering eyes.
-Little do you know, Azul has a much more watchful eye on you that you initially thought.
-Sure, you don’t have much to offer him magic wise, but you have ramshackle. Oh, how he wants ramshackle.
-You are key to obtaining it, he just… has to find something on you first.
-You’re so painfully average. Perhaps a little more pretty in the face than his other peers, but you sacrifice that with the atrociousness of your uniform. 
-Truly, nothing about you is different.
-He almost gives up until Grim delivers him an opportunity in a pretty little bow.
-You agree to his contract out of the goodness of your heart, just like he knew you would. So sweet and kind are you, to practically hand him the deed to ramshackle on a silver platter.
-He notices, however, that Jade grows a very… sudden fascination with you.
-Sure, he told both Jade and Floyd to keep and eye on you and keep you in like, but for Jade to be so interested… very odd.
-Then, shortly after, Floyd’s own interest is piqued. Alright… less odd than Jade, but to have both of their eyes on you must mean he’s missing something. (I know I previously said that Floyd found out after Azul, but I was stupid and wrong and you should never listen to me when I’m talking about Floyd).
-He tries to get it out of them by any means, Asking, blackmailing, manipulation. He really does try, but their lips are sealed tight.
-It frustrates him to no end that they know something he doesn’t, and that he can’t figure out this very big secret.
-It stumps him for so long, because he’s looking in all the wrong places for the answer.
-Meanwhile, you know that Jade and Floyd know and you are TERRIFIED waiting for Azul to use this against you.
-The suspense starts killing you and making you anxious enough that its affecting sleep, so you decide to bite the bullet and arrange a meeting with him.
-Azul is honestly delighted, because he was just going to outright force the truth from you at this point.
-“I’m glad you set up this meeting, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
“I know… I’ve been pretty nervous about it since Jade and Floyd started pestering me.”
“Before I talk about what I want to, I’d like to hear what you have to say. I’m a good listener after all.”
“Too good, if you ask me. Uhm, anyway, so I know that Jade and Floyd to you that I’m a girl already, but I’m really hoping you would just leave me be. You owe me after all.”
“…You’re a girl?”
“Did they not tell you…?”
-what. What? WHAT?!?!?!
-How could he not tell, he feel so incredibly stupid. Its so obvious now that he thinks about it.
-No wonder Jade and Floyd wouldn’t stop teasing him about it.
-He agrees not to let the secret out — he DOES owe you his life, after all. This is a minor trade.
-However, he does not mentally recover from this revelation for a while.
-He doesn’t treat you very different, I suppose. He’s more gentlemanly with you, and is generally more friendly, but those things come from saving a persons life regardless.
-He is, surprisingly, willing to ensure your whole gender thing doesn’t get out so long as you work a few hours at the monster lounge.
-Probably the best at keeping it to himself and making sure it doesn’t get out. You wouldn’t expect any less with Azul, though.
Kalim
-You and Kalim don’t really have much of a chance to interact.
-He seems sweet enough, and you know he’s much kinder than the rest of the dorm leaders, but you don’t really have any reason to interact with him.
-Kalim also doesn’t think too much of you. 
-You caused a ruckus at the entrance ceremony, that’s for sure, but you kinda blend into the background.
-Besides he’s a party animal — constantly hosting these huge parties at his dorm just because he can.
-As someone trying to keep out of trouble and hide such a huge secret… yeah, parties aren’t exactly your forte.
-So, when you get roped in to coming to Scarabia over winter break, Kalim is pleasantly surprised!
-He’s always excited to make a new friend, and you’re pretty infamous around school, so he’s extra excited to get to know you.
-Kalim has no reason to question anything about you, like most other people would.
-However, he isn’t stupid. He has plenty of younger sisters, and he picks up on social queues better than you’d expect.
-He definitely suspects something is off, but he figures you would tell him if something was up. 
-You actually find him quite easy to be around. He’s someone who makes it easy to let your walls down and just relax with.
-Despite his sudden mood shifts, he always makes sure that you’re happy and healthy and doing the best you can be in your position.
-However, you run out of the magical potion that deepens your voice pretty quickly, and you have to go back to dramatically straining your voice.
-You sound sick, honestly, and it makes Kalim worry. 
-He figures that you’re forcing yourself to deepen your voice so you’re still perceived as a man.
-Instead of asking you directly, as Kalim does, he goes to Jamil.
-“Jamil…”
“What do you need, Kalim?”
“Don’t you think somethings… off with the prefect?”
“Off? What are you talking about, nothings off with them.”
“No, I mean… do you think they might be… a girl?”
“…Kalim, that’s very rude to say. You need to be more respectful.”
“…You’re right, I’m sorry. Could we get him something to soothe his voice though, it sounds rough.”
-Kalim is a lot more watchful of you after that. He just… knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t want to be rude.
-It’s actually you who comes to him when no one is around for help.
-“Kalim, uhm, I need your help.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“So, I’m pretty sure you know, but I’m not a guy… I’m a girl, and I really need help hiding it. The longer I’ve been here, the harder it’s been on me.”
-Sweetheart he is, he promises to both help you and keep your secret to himself — and he does both surprisingly well!
-He offers his private bathroom to you so you can shower in peace. 
-It’s honestly the best bath you’ve ever had with all his sweet smelling oils. Your skin feels so smooth and renewed.
-Still, even with this, you still don’t feel safe with anyone else — plus the fact that Kalim has random and horrifying mood shifts. You have to flee.
-And yet you still get dragged into more trouble with the octatrio. You still get exposed to the whole dorm by a crazed Jamil, and now have to deal with the horror that they’ll tell everyone.
-Kalim feels awful, and thus shows his forgiveness in the best way he can: giving gifts.
-You get tons of apology gifts from him in the coming months. Baskets of the best shower stuff you’ve ever had; a new, better fitted but still innocuous uniform; enough tuna to keep grim satisfied for years (and sweets that you happily keep to yourself).
-It’s so nice, but you start to feel bad. It feels like you’re taking advantage of his guilt, when you’re not really upset at anyone involved anymore.
-You’re welcome at Scarabia any time. None of his dorm members will ever cause you any trouble, and you can dress and act and sound however you want within Scarabia’s walls. 
Vil
-Miss beauty queen himself. We love Vil, we Stan Vil, we adore Vil… 
-Oh my god he’s a pain in the ass though, especially for you.
-He sees through you in an instant.
-Truly, Vil finds you to be more of a little pest than anything.
-You are constantly in trouble, you are magic less, and you decided to needlessly hide your gender.
-The last one is the worst offense in his eyes.
-Vil is someone who does not value gender, but expression. Your gender does not matter as much as your expression, therefore you hiding your expression irks him.
-He’s understanding enough in the fact that he knows you might be doing this to protect yourself, but he finds it stupid and useless, because you’re easy to see through.
-He avoids you, and you avoid him. Simple as that.
-Unfortunately for Vil, you’ve caught Rook’s eye, which means he must sit through many hours of Rook rambling on about his “findings” about you.
-When you tried out for the VDC, he was simply going to turn you and Grim away, but Rook convinced him to give you a chance.
-Rook wanted him to help your reveal your “inner beauty”, though Vil wasn’t sure if you had any of that.
-You wore baggy, horrifically ugly clothing up until winter break. Your hair was constantly a mess. Your skin was poorly taken care of, and the bags under your eyes were as dark as night.
-It almost made him feel bad for you… so despite his better judgement, he decided to invest time in you.
-Vil makes it very clear that he knows what your whole secret is.
-“I am aware of the fact that you are a woman, however, I will continue to use your preferred pronouns since it seems to bring you comfort.”
-He’s very insistent that you allow him to do your skincare AND your makeup whenever you give him the chance.
-Especially when he moves into ramshackle temporarily, he’s very insistent on maintaining your skincare routine.
-He essentially makes your entire nightly routine himself, and is right there over your shoulder making sure you do it right.
-Despite how overbearing it is, you actually make good friends with him through this.
-Being stuck alone in a room with no one but him to talk to forces you two to talk.
-You get to learn why he cares so much about appearances, and he gets to know why you hide to protect yourself.
-“It’s just… easier to pretend, because guys will bother me less that way.”
“I can’t understand why they would bother you. You’ve done nothing to them, so why would they want to do anything to you.”
“That’s the thing, I don’t know either. I just know it’s scary, and I don’t want to deal with it.”
-You move him, honestly. You’re strong even though you’re scared, and that’s beautiful. Thats what true beauty is.
-He helps you embrace your inner self and express that, while still helping you to hide your gender in a way that feels safe.
-You are always welcome at Pomefiore, and you can come to either him or Rook if you have any issues at all.
-It’s like having a big sister, almost.
Idia
-Idia has eyes everywhere.
-Every inch of that campus is (illegally) being monitored by his watchful eyes. 
-When he’s bored in class, he flicks through the cameras to amuse himself — maybe he’ll see someone slip and fall on their ass. That would be funny.
-He’s not really interested in you in particular.
-In fact, he’d like to keep a very far distance between the two of you.
-You’re… intimidating. You’ve fought some of the most powerful mages on campus and won.
-Total final boss energy, not something Idia is interested in being around.
-What he IS interested in is that wittle kitty you’ve got following you around.
-When he’s bored in class, he goes searching for Grim, and where Grim is you are sure to be.
-So, despite his aversion to you, he ends up spending a lot of time watching you.
-He starts to notice… things about you.
-He notices that you seem to put on a tough guy persona around… well… other guys in your class.
-When it’s just you and Grim though? You’re the softest softie he’s ever seen.
-It’s top tier cringe watching you try to being all macho, so he much prefers your more quiet and relaxed self you show in private.
-Seriously though, you’re a TOTALLY DIFFERENT PERSON when you’re alone with certain people.
-EVEN YOUR VOICE CHANGES!!!
-It’s so uber creepy, it’s like a jumpscare every time you drop that fake deep voice.
-If he’s being real, you’ve got a pretty voice. Honestly, you’re really pretty period. Too pretty to be a guy honestly.
-…
-….
-…..HOLY SHIT!!!
-He has to check your medical files to be sure — which he obviously has access to, thanks to having access to everything Ortho has access to.
-Blah blah blah allergies, blah blah blah horrific injuries from overblots, blah blah blah- AH HAH!
-Next to gender you are listed as… transgender man.
-He doesn’t wanna be that weird transphobic incel, but from what he’s seen? He highly doubts that.
-From what he’s seen in his (invasive) watching, you’re definitely doing the troupe of hiding your gender to better fit in.
-He feels like he’s in an anime or something.
-He doesn’t really want to bother you about it — but from watching you, you seem like someone he’d really enjoy being around.
-Ortho also insists that he’d get along with you very well!
-…It’s worth a shot right.
-He tries several times to “bump” into you, which always ends in him skittering away in fear.
-He psyches himself out every time. “They wouldn’t even wanna hang out with a loser like me.” “They’re way too cool for someone as lame as me.” 
-It’s not until you invite yourself to one of tabletop club’s meetings that he’s forced to interact with you.
-He’s really banking on the fact that you’ll be too busy talking with Azul to notice him, but then Azul leaves and its just you and him.
-Him and you…
-Both of you… in total and complete silence.
-…yep… 
-“Uhm, Idia…?”
“yES!?”
“I came here cause I wanted to talk to you, sorry for being so underhanded about it, I just couldn’t get you alone without you running off.”
“AH— I mean, ahem, okay. My bad.”
-You totally cornered him like an evil villain.
-All because you wanted to… be his friend?
-Is he dreaming, going insane perhaps, did HE get isekaied into an alternate universe where he was likable???
-Nope, Ortho just talks him up a lot, and you think his hair is cool. Huh. Kinda lame compared to what he was thinking.
-You guys talk a LOT after that. You exchange numbers and you text him about all sorts of stuff — and he’s actually interested in it!
-You learn that he’s been watching you and Grim for a long time, and while you scold him.
-You think it’s pretty funny that he’s embarrassed about his love for cute things.
-“If you’ve been keeping your eye on me for so long, you must’ve figured out that I’m a girl, right?”
“Yeah, you’re not great at hiding it. That macho guy act is suuuuper lame, you look like a noob lol.”
“Hey! I’m just copying what Deuce told me to do!”
-You guys don’t really see each other face to face very often, but like I said you text a lot.
-Sometimes he’ll text you shit like ‘I saw that, saved it for blackmail.’ After you biffed your shit on the pavement or something.
-When Idia gets more comfortable, you two spend hours on call whenever you get the chance.
-He lends you some of his precious manga, and even gives you an older TV he had laying around so you can watch stuff at ramshackle.
-Sometimes he invites you over to play video games with him and Ortho, and he gets all cocky and proud when you gush about how cool all his tech is.
-And, yeah, Idia definitely forms a little crush on you — but he would do that regardless of your gender. 
-He just likes you a lot, and you can feel safe on campus knowing he’s watching over you when you need it. (Mostly watching Grim, tbh.)
Malleus
-We know that Malleus enjoys… creeping outside of Ramshackle.
-He spends quite a lot of time on your front lawn, therefore, he’s usually in proximity of you.
-However, he is very intimidating!
-As a young woman in a magical world that you are not from, a very tall man with horns is the exact opposite of what you want to be around.
-Besides, you’ve heard the rumors about him — how powerful he is, and how scary he is.
-Malleus, on the other hand, is admittedly curious about you.
-He finds humans in their own right incredibly interesting, but you are not just a regular human.
-You are a human who has no magic and is from another world entirely. 
-You are something he has never once seen in his whole life, so excuse his childish curiosity.
-Still, you’re sort of cleverly avoiding him at every chance you get, and he just can’t quite find the time to talk to you.
-Until one night, you come back rather late and you find him in your yard… again.
-You send Grim in by himself and decide to confront him by yourself, because you are tired of being afraid to fall asleep at night.
-“Hey, you, could you maybe not stare at my house in the middle of the night!”
-Oh. You are quite feisty, and very bold to approach Malleus Draconia with such an aggressive tone.
-“I’m unsure what you mean, I’m simply admiring the architecture.”
“I don’t care WHAT you’re doing, you’re freaking me out! I know you’re supposedly some big scary monster guy, but I need you to STOP being weird outside my house.”
“…My apologies…”
-Malleus is pleasantly surprised at your spunk — he’s never been spoken to like that, he’s excited by it.
-After you yell at him, you let him explain himself, and you realize he is just… really, really bad at socializing.
-He wasn’t watching you, he just really enjoys silence and ramshackle is the quietest place on campus — even with you living in it.
-So, you give him the benefit of the doubt, because he really does just seem like he’s lost on everything around him 90% of the time.
-You don’t hang out with him during the day, but if you happen to see him on your lawn (as he usually is), you go out and hang out with him for a while.
-It makes Malleus happy, because you treat him like a friend. You give him cute nicknames, and you invite him inside for snacks, and you go out of your way to say hello to him when you pass him in the halls.
-He also gets to know more about you, and his curiosities about you and your world get quelled.
-He doesn’t really question anything about you, especially not your gender.
-Gender is hardly important for fae, and you seem confident in your expression, so he has no reason to wonder. Besides, there are far more thrilling things about you than your sex.
-So, you and Malleus start to grow close. So close, in fact, that you can confidently say that he’s one of your closest friends.
-At this point, almost everyone who you want to know about your gender knows. Everyone but Malleus.
-Initially you kept it a secret because you didn’t know how good he was at not talking, but now…
-Now, well, you don’t really have a reason.
-People usually question you at this point, or at least seem suspicious, but Malleus?
-Malleus shows not a hint that he thinks something is up. It’s odd to you, isn’t he supposed to be super smart or something. Maybe he’s just too respectful.
-Regardless, you decided to talk to him about it the next time you see him staring at the gargoyles around campus.
-“Hey Tsunotaro, what’re you up to?”
“Just admiring these gargoyles here, aren’t they fascinating? They were the first few installed in the school, if my memory serves me correctly.”
“They are very cool, but could I ask you something not gargoyle related?”
“What is it, child of man?”
“You know that I’m, uhm, a girl right?”
“Oh. I did not know that, how interesting.”
-He doesn’t understand why you would hide that, but it doesn’t really perturb him that much.
-The most you got was an eyebrow raise, and then he was back to his gargoyles.
-You were pretty satisfied with that, so you figured he wouldn’t tell anyone… and then you hear him loudly talking about it with his friends in Diasomania.
-Sigh… he means well, but he just doesn’t get the social stuff.
-You’re not mad, because pretty much everyone knows at this point, but it still sucks that he’s such a loudmouth.
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lilacsandlillies · 1 month
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I was going through the anti Jason Todd tag because I hate myself and want to understand where people who dislike him are coming from and one thing I kept seeing was annoyance at Jason fans who claim that Jason is female coded and realized that the term “female coded” might not be the best term to describe what we mean.
A female coded character in literature and media typically means a character that has no specified gender or otherwise does not have a gender but is obviously meant to be a stand in for a woman or female. Kind of like how Starfire has no specified race (due to being an alien) but is still obviously black coded based on the way she’s drawn and treated by the narrative.
This is slightly different than what we mean when saying that Jason is female coded. It’s not that Jason is literally supposed to be a stand in for a female character, it’s that the way a lot of characters treat him and a lot of the tropes used on him are things that usually saved for female characters, not big buff men like Jason.
To start with, being Robin is narratively (or at least was) very similar to being a woman in a story. Robin is a role made to complement Batman (who we all know is basically the ultimate male power fantasy). Robin’s role is to be an accessory to Batman. Robin can be smart, but not smarter than Batman. Robin can be strong, but not stronger than Batman. Hell, Robin is often kidnapped and used as a literal damsel in distress, a role often regulated for women as a whole.
What sets Jason apart from the other robins (except for Steph) in this regard is that they were allowed to be characters outside of Batman. Dick might not have been the “man” of the story when he’s with Bruce, but when he’s with the teen titans suddenly he’s the smart one who has all the answers. Jason’s Robin was never really allowed this.
Then we get to the most, controversial, part of Jason’s female coding. The fact the he was effectively fridged. Fridging is usually only referred to as frigding if it’s a female character, but Jason’s death checks pretty much all the other boxes needed. An incredibly brutal death that was more about Bruce’s feelings on it than Jason himself.
This is especially apparent when compared to the other Bat characters. For all the female coding, the only other Robin to actually be fridged was Steph (and we all know about the misogyny surrounding her death). Barbara was also kind of fridged during the killing Joke. The only female character to escape this is Cass (to my knowledge). When you look at it through this lens, the fact that the only other characters to be permanently damaged like this for Bruce’s story are female, it’s not hard to see where the idea that Jason is female coded comes from.
You can even find this in Jason’s origin story. Poor little orphan is saved by benevolent billionaire is a role usually saved for little girls, like in Annie.
Despite what you might think, this even continues after Jason’s revival. Jason is still used less as a character and more as a motivation for Bruce. He’s regularly called emotional and hysterical (terms usually used to refer to women).
Jason is first and foremost a victim. A role performed by women in most media. Men are expected to be stoic and “rise above” the things done to them as to not be victims, as continuously shown by the way characters like Nightwing are not allowed to be effected by the horrific things they go through. The fact that Jason is shown the be angry, and sad, and emotional, constantly, and the fact that he’s punished and vilified for it puts him in a place much more similar to a female character.
There’s a reason that so many Jason fans (that like him for a reason past “antihero with guns”) are female. For most characters, when you swap their genders there would be a pretty clear and big difference in the way their story takes place. If you swap Jason’s gender, the story takes place identically.
A lot of this is best shown in men’s reactions to Arkham Knight’s version of Jason. In that game, Jason is similarly angry and emotional, albeit for slightly different reasons. He is also still unmistakably a victim. You’d think the men playing would like him. After all he’s a big cool angsty guy with a lot of guns and muscles. Instead, a lot of men’s thought that he was whiny. That his feelings were annoying.
There’s also something to be said about how his autonomy is regularly undermined by Bruce (specifically in Gotham war) and how his decisions and feeling are constantly treated as if they’re worth less than Bruce’s, but that’s a discussion for another day.
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unclewaynemunson · 8 months
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“I need to tell you something.”
Shitfuckno. Eddie doesn't even know why he's still surprised. This is how it always goes, after all. He should probably just give up and stop dating altogether – again.
Steve looks at him exactly as ominously as the words I need to tell you something require. Perfect Steve. Funny Steve. Sweet Steve. Sexy Steve. Steve, who Eddie had genuinely believed to be different.
Eddie sighs, barely suppressing a dark chuckle while he turns away from that perfect face. He doesn't want to look at Steve when he'll tell him the undoubtedly messed-up shit he's about to spill.
“Lemme guess, you're married?” That was what the last guy he dated told him, seven months after they got to know each other. It can't be much worse than that, can it?
Steve grabs Eddie's hand, causing him to involuntarily jerk up his head and meet his eyes.
“How did you know?”
Jesus H. Christ. Not again.
Eddie roughly pulls his hand out of Steve's grip and laughs a joyless laugh.
“Apparently I'm a good guesser.”
He stands up from the park bench the two of them had been sharing. “Well, Steve, this has been a blast. You should go back to your wife, or husband – don't tell me, I don't even wanna know – and I should um, get going. Maybe tell the next person right away what they'll be getting themselves into. Would save them a lot of wasted time, just in case cheating and going around other people's backs isn't really their thing, y'know.”
“Eddie, wait, let me explain!”
Eddie picks up his pace, but Steve, stubborn as he is, easily keeps up with him.
“I'm really not interested, man.”
“It's not – I'm not cheating on her!”
“Okay, so you have an open marriage, good for you. Still the kind of information you could've shared with me, say, three months ago, don't you think?”
“She's a lesbian.”
And that makes Eddie freeze on the spot. It takes Steve two steps before he realizes Eddie has stopped moving; he walks backwards until he's standing right in front of Eddie.
“She's my best friend,” he says, immediately using Eddie's stunned silence to his advantage. “Robin, my roommate – I told you all about her. We wanted to buy a house together and that turned out to be very complicated when you're not... Well, when you're not romantically involved. So we got married. For the, um, practical reasons. We never – we're like siblings. I love her like a sister. But she's also my wife. Platonically.”
It takes a few seconds until Steve's words sink in. Then, Eddie leaps forward and basically collapses into Steve's arms, needing to hold onto him to prevent himself from crashing to the ground.
Steve's arms are warm, strong, and as safe as ever.
“Eddie, are you okay?” Steve asks softly. His lips brush against Eddie's ear while he speaks, and worry colors his voice.
Perfect Steve. Too-good-to-be-true Steve.
“Jesus Christ, Steve,” is the only thing Eddie manages to say.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” Steve says. “It's just – I've gotten some, um... Less than ideal reactions, in the past, whenever I told this when I was seeing someone. So I thought it'd be better to wait until things were getting serious.” He sighs, tangling his fingers in Eddie's hair. “I didn't wanna scare you off. Are we – are you okay?”
Eddie nods. He lifts his head from where it's resting against Steve's shoulder and raises his hands to squeeze them around Steve's face.
“We're okay,” he says. “And I'm sorry I didn't want to listen to you. I–” He stops; he can't find the words right away. It's still difficult to talk about those things; to let himself be vulnerable. But Steve has been honest with him, so it's only fair to return the favor.
“I've been hurt, Steve,” he confesses. “More than once. I've had some really shitty experiences with dudes not being honest with me. I thought that that was what was happening again, and I couldn't – I couldn't go through that again. Especially not with you.”
“Jesus, Eddie, I'm so sorry.”
“It's okay,” Eddie rushes to say, pulling Steve even closer towards him. “I trust you.” And as soon as these words leave his mouth, he knows it's the truth.
“I do want to be absolutely clear about one thing, though,” Steve says.
Eddie leans back in Steve's arms to give him an expectant look.
“Robin is my wife. I'm not planning on that to change anytime soon. We've been through a lot together. She's been the most important person in my life for years. We own a house and a dog together, and I love her more than anything. I like you a lot, and I promise you I'm all-in with you, but... Robin is still my number one. And that's not gonna change overnight. I need you to be okay with that.”
Eddie swallows. He looks into Steve's eyes. All he sees is a man who is honest, who loves his friends deeply, and who refuses to make any compromises when it comes to love – whether it be the platonic or the romantic kind.
It doesn't scare Eddie off; it only makes him fonder of Steve.
He smiles, glances around to check if they're alone, and presses a quick kiss against Steve's lips.
“I think I can live with that,” he says. “As long as I'm the only one who gets to do this.” He closes his eyes and lets his lips meet Steve's again.
The sigh that Steve breathes into their tentative kiss is one filled with relief.
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battlekidx2 · 3 months
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Alastor Episodes 7 and 8 Thoughts
These two episodes really gave us a lot in regards to Alastor and I cannot wait to see where they go with him in season 2. What I find most fascinating about what they established with him in these episodes is how I think this perfectly sets up Alastor to directly challenge the show’s main themes of redemption.
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Alastor is the only character in the main cast that I think could effectively challenge Charlie’s idea of redemption by making her face the question of “where the line for who can be redeemed and who is too far gone is?” 
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Even Vaggie and her past as an exorcist couldn’t challenge Charlie’s ideals in the same way because Vaggie so clearly wants to be better and is trying to be better. She could only challenge Charlie’s idea of who could be redeemed. She couldn’t truly challenge the line of when someone is too far gone unlike Alastor. 
And to explain this I'll just jump right in.
It’s clear these two episodes were meant to show a shift in Alastor and Charlie’s relationship in some capacity. It’s a bit more of a subtle shift than with the other characters, but I think it’s setting up this future conflict well for the limited time the show has. 
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At the start Charlie doesn’t think Alastor cares and calls him out on this. She directly states that she believes he enjoys the suffering. He refutes her idea of him by stating she doesn’t know what he feels. He purposefully hides his feelings behind a smile as a sign of control. (The first shift. It tells her there’s more beneath the surface)
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Then Alastor helps Charlie enlist cannibal town and says he wants to mentor her in the song. This is more than the initial indifference and humor he got out of Charlie at the beginning. There’s an interest in seeing Charlie grow and being a part of it that wasn't there before. And, with Alastor helping Charlie here, trust is being built (at least on Charlie's end).
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Then Alastor talks to Niffty (who he is clearly fond of) and admits he finds the group enjoyable to be around. He says he could grow accustomed to them after Niffty says she really likes them almost in agreement with her. He's very candid with Niffty and doesn't seem to feel the need to hide his emotions around her. They appear to be on the same wavelength.
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And finally, Charlie is upset when she thinks that Alastor died against Adam and hugs him happily when he returns. In Charlie’s eyes Alastor has been helpful and risked himself and his power to protect the hotel. This is a true shift in their relationship on Charlie's end.
This bond is necessary because if (at the very least) Charlie doesn't care about Alastor then he won't be able to truly challenge her idea of redemption and the show implies it doesn't just go one way. It's just obscured.
To explain what I mean I want to look at Alastor's role in the final battle and that moment when he is alone after he escapes.
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At the beginning of the battle he felt like the trump card he should have been. He makes the exorcists, before Adam destroys his shield, look like a joke. And he gives Adam a run for his money before he becomes overconfident and lets his guard down. He didn’t expect Adam to bounce back and have that much power left to show. He was caught completely off guard and paid the price. 
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And instead of staying to face the end with the rest of the people in the hotel Alastor opts to save himself. He places himself first. When he leaves he seems almost smug, spouting off a one liner and smiling as he sinks into the shadows. It seems calculated and calm, but alone is a completely different story. This moment shakes Alastor and that moment alone puts his fight against Adam and decision to flee in a different light.
In this moment when he's alone he starts to lose it, saying there has to be a way out. This isn’t where things end. He will come out on top. 
He can feel his control over the situation slipping. His power and notoriety has been challenged left and right this season. First Vox, then Lucifer, then the loan sharks, now Adam. It’s one right after the other. And Adam almost killed him.
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He’s struggling to grasp onto what little control he has left by forcing himself to keep on his smile and it calls back to the beginning of episode 7 when he says to Charlie that just because she sees a smile doesn't mean she knows how he really feels. His smile is a sign of control. And even in this moment you can see that last bit of control slipping. And it’s left him even more desperate for his freedom than before.
The Radio Demon was introduced almost as if he was an all powerful entity and now he is being brought back down to earth and he’s raging against it, barely keeping it just below the surface. 
But there’s even more to his breakdown than just his pride. The lines “Great Alastor, altruist, died for his friends. Sorry to disappoint that is not where this ends. I’m hungry for freedom like never before. The constraints of my deal surely have a backdoor.” strongly imply that he really does care for the residents of the hotel more than he wants to admit even to himself.
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He is freaking out because he got too close to dying trying to protect and help people that he never thought he would care at all about and he’s doubling down on his plans from before. 
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His immediate desperation to be free implies he is at the hotel because he is forced to be there, but he’s desperate to get out of the contract because he doesn’t like how it’s changing him. Alastor has always put himself first and here he is almost dying trying to protect this hotel and it's rattled him even more deeply than the blow to his pride.
I feel like they know exactly what Alastor can mean thematically and they want you to know he’s a villain while seeding hints there could be change under the surface (ones that Alastor himself is afraid of and wants to double down against). There’s a balancing act going on with him and it seems they really do want to challenge the idea of redemption with him. Not just Charlie’s, but his own as well.
Alastor is still in my opinion the best written character in the series. There’s just so much to unravel with him and he’s the most fun to try and dissect to me. I can’t wait to see what they have planned for him in season 2.
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missnxthingg · 3 months
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I CAN'T LIE TO YOU ✮ LN4
pairing: Lando Norris x bestie!Reader (childhood best friends to lovers) summary: Lando Norris decides to surprise his best friend after being a long time away from home. What she didn't expect was that he had a big secret that he couldn't share with her words: 4.5K - warnings: swearing, suggestive content & not proof read author's notes: I'm back once again! Now you just know I'm a sucker for childhood besties to lovers. Also, I may have already started writing a part two for this one... let me know if you want it!
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The days in England have become more boring with time. Y/N was losing her mind over the repetitive routine that follows the life of a college student. Work, study, beer with close friends and bed. So when her mother invited her for a family dinner, she worried about how excited she got with the event. It wasn’t supposed to be anything special, just her parents and a few of their close friends gathered to catch up over nice food. 
Coming home felt way too good. It’s a feeling most college students get when they go back to their hometown, leaving their crappy flat in university to be served with their parents pampering during their quick visit. Y/N was supposed to be back to her place in just a couple of days, but she felt satisfied to be in a different place than the four walls of her house. Not to mention that she was having a good laugh with everyone at the table.
Her mother always takes dinner parties to another level, serving the best food in her special crockery, saved for moments like this. So Y/N packed a nice new outfit; a cute long-sleeved dress that looked perfect with tights and heels. Not that the guests cared about how she was dressed, but it felt nice to look beautiful and all put together for once after months of hoodies and leggings.
As usual, her parents invited the Norris family, as they’ve been the best of friends for the longest time. Not only they lived next to each other for years back when she was younger, all of their kids were really close friends with Y/N. But the spotlight always goes to Lando, who is the same age as her, making them grow up attached to the hip.
They all grew up going to the same school, not to mention that she would always tag along in Lando and his brother’s karting sessions, having the best time watching them drive flawlessly on tracks. He always enjoyed the times when she’d steal her parents cameras so they could make some homemade videos of their time together. Or when they would sit back, watch their dads play golf every Saturday and share candies in the cart. 
  Y/N and Lando have been inseparable since the age of four, growing up side by side, going through everything together. She was so important to him that, when he joined Formula 1 and had to choose a number to race, he chose the age the two of them had become friends. 
“The number four is for my best friend, Y/N. She was the one to suggest it, and the meaning behind it is very cute. Actually, I don’t want to tell you to not spoil anything, but I can only say that it’s very dear to my heart”, Lando said once in an interview during his second season in F1, making every single one of his fans curious about the meaning.
But it’s been a while since the infamous duo had been together. They supported each other from afar; Y/N sometimes joining him for race weekends and Lando coming back to see her on birthdays and weekends in London, while he visited the McLaren factory. But the last time they had been together was four months ago, during summer break, when he dragged her to join him for his crazy trips around the world. When racing and university was back on, they lost a little bit of touch; almost no calls and only a few texting breaks so they wouldn’t fall apart.
A lot happened in those four months. Lando had a new gorgeous girlfriend; a model who everyone had become obsessed with her TikTok videos for beauty tips. They had been seen together a few times around the world, her joining him for the races and a lot of make-outs behind DJ booths at parties. Y/N, on the other hand, was lacking in the dating department. But the friends she made over the past year made everything worthy. After years of pretty much having Lando as her only very close friend, she finally found new people to go out and have fun as a normal 20-year-old.
With that, Y/N and Lando’s friendship got weird. He had been avoiding her for a while, with the excuse of being too busy with racing, but actually not wanting to talk about his personal life with someone who knew him like the palm of her hand. Meanwhile, she was having a good time with her friends to be bothered by anything. But lately, life had become more boring and Y/N felt like having Lando back would bring some more fun into her life again, with all the epic parties and the good times they always managed to happen.
“Only one month left”, she thought, as winter break was approaching, meaning that Lando would finally be free to come home for the holidays.
She was pushed out of her thoughts by Adam Norris, who now seemed interest in Y/N’s life after a long catching up with her dad. “Tell us more about college! Are you having fun? Learning anything special?”, he asked with a kind smile.
“Oh, I’m graduating this spring, so it’s been… rough”, she chuckled. “But everything has been amazing, you know? The internship is so cool and the people are nice as well”.
“I just can’t believe it will all be over soon”, his wife, Cisca, responded. “It feels like it was just yesterday when you joined uni and Lando started his first season in F1. Time really flies, uhm?”
Every mention of his name made Y/N smile like a fool. But lately, it has been accompanied by a ting of pain on her chest. God, she missed him so much.
“What is it that you miss?”, Cisca asked, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts. Shit, did she say that out loud?
“I said I missed your pie so much, Cis. You know I have always loved it growing up”, Y/N tried to cover it up by stuffing her mouth with the cheesy pie, trying to keep her thoughts of being spoken out loud. But something caught her by surprise.
“Yeah, mum’s pie is the best in the world, isn’t it?”, a male voice said from behind her, one that she hadn’t heard in person for a while. Her eyes widened when she realized who it was, only to turn around and see Lando standing right behind her tugged into his signature comfortable hoodie, with a giant smile plastered on his face, and a bouquet in his hands. “Surprise!”
Y/N brought her hands up to her mouth, trying not to cry at the sight. She couldn’t believe what was standing in front of her. So she jumped out of her seat and jumped into his arms, not caring about anyone else in the room or the flowers being crumpled up in his hands. Lando buried his nose in her hair, taking in her scent, making him feel at ease for once
“What are you doing here?”, she leaned back, holding his face between her hands. His soft eyes looked down at her, his smile never faltering.
“I thought I could surprise my best girl”, he admitted, digging one of his hands into her hips, making her securely close to him. “I had a break before the end of the season, and it had been so long…”
“Shut up, you idiot. I just want to hug you”, she cut him mid-sentence, burying her face in his neck, making his smile even wider, if that was possible. Everyone on the table laughed at her reaction, but let them have their moment after months without seeing each other. It felt too good to be true. 
“I missed you so much”, he whispered in her ear, pressing a small kiss to the top of her head.
“I missed you too. Welcome home, Lan”, she leaned back and kissed his cheek, making it tinted red. Lando was so cute when he blushed. “You brought me flowers! How cute is this?”
She took the giant bouquet filled with red and pink roses out of his hands, bringing it close to her body. “It’s an apology for not being here as much as I should”, he said, making her heart so warm with the thoughtful gift.
“You being here is enough”, she pressed another kiss to his cheek and quickly pulled him for another hug. They just couldn’t get enough of each other.
“Alright, we all know you both really miss each other, but you can catch up after dinner. Food is getting cold and poor Lando must be starving”, her mother cut them off, making Y/N look back at the table, her face burning in embarrassment. He laughed at her behavior and pulled the chair next to her so they could sit together.
Through the whole dinner, Lando told all of his amazing stories traveling the world, leaving all the ‘best friends only’ parts for later, when he would be alone with Y/N. She felt so happy to finally have him by her side, making fun of her table manners, resting his hand on her knee and cracking any bad jokes just to see her roll her eyes. And even though he lived those many adventures, Lando knew life couldn’t get better than having his favourite person in the world back on his side.
“So, Lando, what finally brings you back home?”, Y/N’s father asked, making him shrug.
“You know, the championship could’ve been better and I feel really tired, you know?”, Lando searched for his best friend’s hand under the table, entwining their fingers once they met. Then he looked at her with an adoring smile on his face. “I just need some recharging. Thought I could use some home time before the last few races of the year”.
“You’re always welcomed to recharge in our house if you want to, Lando”, her mother said before the conversation was taken somewhere else once again.
While everyone else chatted, Y/N and Lando updated their phone gallery with new pictures of them. A lot of cute selfies and pictures of their homemade dinner which soon found their place on their Instagrams.
y/username
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liked by landonorris and 3,419 others
y/username: always feels good to have my best friend back in the house
tagged: landonorris
landonorris Besties reunited LFG!
↪ y/username you’re such a bore
fanacc1 FINALLY SOME Y/N AND LANDO CONTENT
fanacc2 Wasn’t him dating a model?
↪fanacc3 He is, but Y/N is his childhood best friend
fanacc4 ugh, if i was his gf, i would be so jealous of them together
↪fanacc5 I bet his girlfriend actually hates them
fanacc6 Does this mean more Y/N around the paddock?
The dinner was coming to an end with the delicious sweet treats they prepared for dessert. At that point, Lando and Y/N were just existing at the conversation. He slipped an arm around her shoulder and she found a comfortable spot to lean into him and keep sipping on her wine while they shared a slice of cake. But even though they were quiet, they surely weren’t tired. So as the rest of the adults continued with their chat, they took their glasses of wine to the backyard, just so they could have some alone time.
Lando chuckled when he saw what was still standing strong in her backyard. “You still have our old treehouse?”, he asked and she nodded excitedly. “Wow, it looks so much nicer than before”.
“It’s because I renovated it, you fool. Haven’t I told you?”, she asked, but Lando shook his head. “Oh my… you have to see this! Now it’s a grown up treehouse! Take a look”.
Y/N dragged him to the small construction and made him climb all the way up to the house. It changed a lot with the renovations. Their wall doodles from when they were little kids were preserved by a varnish coat on the wood. She also substituted the old toys for books and her collection of vinyls, making the place look extra cozy. There was even a table for afternoon tea and card games, a TV and a huge futon, with lots of cushions, so they could just lie down and spend the rest of the day hidden from the world.
“What a glow up!”, he joked. “I loved it. This is amazing”, Lando took a place next to the window, where the moonlight invaded the room. Y/N sat next to him and almost immediately pulled out her camera just to capture the moment. And just like old times, they had fun doing a tiny photoshoot together, only to be cut off by his mom, calling them from the ground.
“Are you coming, Lando?”, Cisca asked, making him look over to Y/N, who replied for him.
“I’m not letting him go anywhere, Cisca”, she joked, throwing her arms around Lando, making his mother laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your son”.
“Have fun you two”, they waved at her and sighed after finally being left alone for a proper catching up between best friends. Lando had a satisfied smile on his face and he felt so calm at that moment. He threw both of his arms around his best friend and hugged her tightly.
“Home, at last”, his cheek was pressed on the side of her face, making her giggle with the contact. “I want to know everything going on with you. Just blurt it all out. I owe you this”.
“Oh, nothing great happened”, she shrugged. “Nothing that you didn’t know already. The internship is nice, but it’s coming to an end soon and I’m not sure they’ll keep me with them. And college is almost finished, so that’s kind of bittersweet”.
“I thought you were excited to have a degree”, he said, making her sigh. “Are you not happy about graduating?”
“Of course I am. You more than anyone knows how important this is to me”, she answered. “And I made so many good friends and I’ve been having the best time with them. I know graduating will make us grow apart”.
“Endings aren’t always nice, uhm? But you have to look at the bright side of things”, he started. “You’re finally achieving something great and you managed to have a really good time along the way. Made friends and worked really hard to become the best professional out there. I’m so proud of you!”
Lando has always been her biggest supporter on pursuing her academic path. He remembers all the talks they had about her wanting to master in communications. While he didn’t get to finish school to up his game in racing, he was there for every step his best friend took until enrolling in university. So when they talk about it, he always has that beautiful proud smile on his face, to which Y/N loved seeing.
“Thank you”, she smiled shyly. “And what about you, Mr Worldwide? You’ve been everywhere these past months. How was it?”
“Oh, always amazing”, he beamed. “I got to see so many amazing places around the world. You would’ve loved all the clubs I went to. The DJ booths are amazing. Oh, and the golf courts… breathtaking”.
“Yeah, I saw all the pictures”, Y/N arched her brows and rolled her eyes. “You didn’t even bother on calling, telling me about your adventures”.
“Sorry, I lacked in that department”, he apologized. “Even though everything has been amazing, I’m so tired of this year. I could’ve done better on the track and the last few races have been exhausting. I knew that I needed to recharge before the last two races, so I came back to you”.
“It’s always a pleasure to have you home”, she ran her hand through his curls and smiled. Lando always saw Y/N as his home. She always brings him that sense of familiarity, and her absence in his travels around the world were taking a toll on him.
Not to mention that hiding a big secret from his best friend also wasn’t doing him any good.
“But I’m not here to talk about me. I want to know everything about you”, he poked her side with his index finger and smirked. “Anyone special appeared in your life in the past few months?”
“Please”, she rolled her eyes. “The last time I had a proper hook up was during our summer trip to Bali with that guy on the club”.
“Come on, it can’t be that bad”, he giggled, but Y/N’s face was burning in embarrassment.
“I had a few dates in the past months, but fuck me, they were annoying”, Lando laughed at her statement. “One of them found out you’re my best friend and spent the entire time asking questions about you. And the only guy who was actually decent came in his pants when we were making out in his car. Didn’t even get to touch me”. 
“Oh, poor you”, he giggled. “So no boy to be my new best friend? I mean, come on, we need more male energy in this friendship”.
“Sorry, Lan. No boyfriend this time”, she said. “You, on the other hand, started dating this gorgeous model and forgot to tell me about everything.”
And there she said it: the topic Lando had been avoiding the most throughout the whole night. He really didn’t want to talk about it with Y/N, because his big secret had been hiding right there. He knew he couldn’t, and didn’t want to, lie about anything to her. And he also knew that he really needed to vent about this secret with her as well.
Lando turned really quiet, and looked away, avoiding her eyes. “Don’t start now, Y/N. I mean, there’s not much to say, to be fair”, he mumbled.
“Come on, I want to know everything about the woman who stole my bestie’s heart”, she poked him, but Lando didn’t dare to look Y/N in the eyes. “I mean, everybody loves her and she seems sweet. Why don’t you want to tell me about her?”
“Because we’re not together”.
“What do you mean? I’ve seen the Instagram pictures and the gossip pages posting videos of you two kissing in the club. I thought you were becoming a thing”.
“Y/N, don’t push it”, he asked, his voice bargaining on his throat.
“Why don’t you want to tell me about her?”
“Because we’re not together, I told you”, he sighed. “She’s a PR stunt. She’s not my girlfriend, and it’s been consuming me from the inside ever since we started this little thing”.
Lando finally looked her in the eyes and Y/N saw them brimming with tears. As an immediate response, she rested a hand on his arm and waited until he was ready to talk more. He leaned into her touch and the tears started to stream down his face. He’s never one to cry for anything, so the tears meant that it was so much more than he was letting show. Her heart broke at the sight of her best friend.
“Is this why you look more tired than usual?”, Y/N asked and he nodded, making the tears fall harder. “Oh, Lan… Come here”.
She pulled his head to rest on her chest and Lando wrapped his arms around her, needing some sort of comfort. He didn’t say much for a couple of minutes after, feeling his heart aching on his chest. He wanted to talk about everything with Y/N, because he knew she would understand him. He always feels vulnerable and safe enough to talk about anything with his best friend. 
“Everything is so fucked up, Y/N”, Lando cried out. “God, I can’t take this fake relationship anymore. Do you know how disgusting it feels to pretend to be in love with someone you’re not? And to lie to everyone, hiding it from my parents. From you. I can’t stand it”
“I’m sure you have a good reason to be doing so”, she said, fingers running through his curls and making him sure that she was right there with him. Y/N felt his fingers clinging tighter onto her. “You’re just doing your job and that’s okay. This won’t last forever”.
“I feel so lonely, you know? I was doing so bad on the last few races and I missed home so much. I missed talking to my dad and hugging my mom. I missed making fun of my sisters and going for a drive with my brother. And I missed you so much. I wish I could just stay here for a long while”.
“Soon you’ll get to be here for as long as you want, baby”, Y/N pressed a kiss on top of his head and Lando sighed in comfort. It ached a little less with her there. “And we’ll get to spend so much time together. You can come over and we’ll have sleepovers. We can take the car, drive around and go clubbing until sunrise. Whatever you want”.
“God, it would be so easy if it was you”, he whispered, still holding onto her as if his life depended on it. What did he mean with that? Just those single words made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. Truth is, while her heart ached for her best friend, she was relieved he’s not in love with someone else. Did he have feelings for her? 
“You know, I looked over my so-called girlfriend one night while we were hanging out at the club and I wanted to shout to everyone that it was all an act. She’s like a solid reminder of how lonely I am all the damn time. It’s ridiculous”, he grunted. 
“Come on, look at me”, Y/N pulled his face to look up and held his head between her hands. “Lan, you are never alone, okay? Even if you feel like you are, and even if I’m not there physically, you know that I’m always with you. I’m right here”, she rested a hand over his heart, making him smile through his tears. “I've been in your heart since the moment we met”.
“I…”, he started, but couldn’t get to say the rest. After all this time, Lando was afraid that the next move would ruin their friendship forever. But looking her in the eyes, comforting him through this rough time, he knew she felt the same. “I love you, Y/N”.
She was expecting anything. ‘I know’, maybe. That was so much bigger than what she imagined. Lando had said he loved her countless times over the years they’ve known each other; after all, they grew up together, almost like brother and sister. But this time, it was different. Y/N knew it, and Lando knew it too.
Y/N was too stunned to speak, so he continued with his confession. “I always have, you know? And I only hid everything from you because I can’t lie to you. And because I thought you’d never look at me the same way if you found out”.
“Lando, I…” she stopped mid-sentence, trying to catch some air. “Fuck, this is a lot. Just wait a second”.
They giggled together and he leaned his forehead against hers. “It’s okay to not say anything right now. I just dropped a giant bomb on your lap. This wasn’t the way I wanted to confess to you, but I just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore”.
“Are you saying this because you’re emotional? Because I swear to God, if you are, I’m gonna kill you for misleading me”, her eyes were brimming with tears and Lando whipped them away.
“I’m telling you the truth”, he assured. “I think I’ve loved you my entire life. With all the crazy things I’ve experienced in my life, you were the only constant. You’re home, Y/N”.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”, she asked and he took a deep breath.
“Because I was afraid of losing you. Scared this might ruin our friendship somehow”, he admitted. “You’re the most precious thing in my life. Do you know how scary it is to fall in love with your best friend when you’re just a kid? And then grow up, and those feelings never go away, just getting stronger every day. I just didn’t want to lose you”.
“You weren’t going to lose me, Lan”, her eyes softened at his confession and now he was the one wiping her tears. Y/N brought him back for a hug and even though he didn’t have an answer, deep down he knew she felt the same.
“I’ve loved you since we were four. There’s a reason why I always carry this number with me”, Lando confessed. “God, look what you do to me. I never cry”.
“You only cry for the important things”, she reminded. “That’s why I love you, Lando. I’ve been in love with you for my entire life too, idiot”.
His eyes widened as he looked up to her, who had a smirk plastered on her face. “Can I kiss you?”, Lando asked, but before she could properly shake her head in agreement, he crashed his lips into hers. He needed to be home, and Y/N has always been home for him. It was the most intense kiss they ever had, like years of lingering had finally paid off for both of them.
Lando pulled her closer with a hand on the back of her head. She wrapped her fingers around his neck, smiling into his lips. Then, as if it wasn't enough, he pulled her to sit on lap, making them closer somehow. She slowed down the pace, making the kiss needier and more delicious. Lando even let out a satisfied throaty moan, his heart speeding on his chest. Her touches made him feral, knowing that after years of pinning, he finally had his dream girl.
“Thank you for this”, he whispered against her lips, a wide and satisfied smile on his face. “Thank you for all the years, all the times you've been here for me, to tell me everything is going to be alright.”
“Always, Lan”, she played with the hairs on his nape. “I love you so much”.
“I love you too. So much”, he left one more peck on her lips before hugging her again. “I don't know what I'd do without you”.
“Yeah, me too”.
The story of how they fell in love with each other was long, but beautiful. Lando and Y/N sat in that tree house all night and shared all of those stories with each other. And for a second, he really believed everything was going to work out. After all, if he had Y/N, Lando would be just fine.
❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁
⤿ add yourself to the taglist!
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strangersmunsons · 3 months
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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 2 Prompt: Chocolates 🍫 ~ 2,000 words Eddie's grumpy until he sees a familiar face in the candy aisle.
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“This is a fake holiday,” mumbles Eddie as he pushes the cart past the pink and red aisle of Bradley’s Big Buy. 
His uncle chuckles. “When you have someone to spend it with, you’ll feel differently.”
“Wayne,” Eddie deadpans, “this is just some bullshit that Hallmark made up so they could take more of our money.”
“I’m not sayin’ you need to go all commercial,” Wayne clarifies. “I just mean that when there’s someone special in your life, boy, you might be in a better mood during this month.”
Eddie’s mouth sets bitterly. He’d rather not get the ‘you’ll find someone someday’ talk right now — the last thing he needs is another reminder of how lonely he is.
Wayne senses his nephew’s reluctance to discuss the matter, and so bites his tongue. Instead, he points at a row of cans on the shelf beside them. “Do you need more tomato soup, or are you set for a while?”
~
Back at home, Eddie lays on the floor of his bedroom, staring at the ceiling. Yeah, okay, maybe Wayne had a point. Maybe he’d hate all this stupid cutesy shit less if he didn’t have to watch everyone around him enjoy it while he spent yet another Valentine’s Day alone in his uncle’s trailer, with no one to keep him company, save for a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon.
The worst part of it is — and Eddie would rather die than admit this — that deep down, he thinks he really could be…romantic. 
Sure, he’s rough around the edges. He tends to be prickly, wary of others’ intentions, but it’s necessary in order for him to survive in Hawkins. The Munson name was already notorious, and his reputation preceded him; the incident with poor Chrissy Cunningham three years prior, despite his innocence, had sealed his fate as the town pariah.
But if someone could just give him a chance, a real chance, he thinks that he could make that person really happy.
He’d help around the house. Cleaning, laundry, anything you — whoever you are — needed a hand with. He’d learn to cook better so he could keep you eatin’ good. He’d plan fun dates. He’d play your favorite songs on guitar, maybe write you new ones, if he was feeling inspired…anytime you needed him, he’d be there. He’d be the most reliable, affectionate, loving — 
“Ed?” There’s a light knock on his door. 
“Come in,” he calls back.
Wayne pokes his head into the room. “I’ve got to head to the plant in a few,” he says. “While I’m gone, can you do me a favor?”
Eddie sits halfway up, propped on his elbows. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Wayne fidgets, looking apologetic. “I know we were just there, but d’you mind going back to the Big Buy to pick up some candy? It’s Mrs. Johnson’s first Valentine’s Day since her husband passed, and I meant to get her something sweet, but I forgot.”
Eddie hauls himself up off the floor. “No problem. Want anything specific?”
Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t need nothin’ fancy, just get whatever’s cheapest that still looks nice.”
“That’s the Munson way,” Eddie muses, smiling in spite of himself. 
~
Eddie reluctantly makes a turn down the seasonal aisle he had so pointedly avoided earlier, feeling depressed. Cherubs and teddy bears seem to mock him from where they sit, and he heaves a dramatic sigh. 
His eyes roam the line of cards, plush toys, endless boxes of chocolates and candies, when they finally land on you, also perusing the rows of heart-shaped packages.
Recognition flickers instantly. Eddie suddenly finds that his heart is beating very quickly in his chest.
You.
You had still been a year behind him when he finally graduated, and though he didn’t really know you-know you, he was friends with people who did. You weren’t bullied like he and the guys were, but you weren’t exactly popular, either — and so more often than not, you ran in similar circles. Gareth and Harry used to swear up and down that you were the nicest girl in Hawkins.
Because of them, he had spent brief moments with you from time to time. He thought you had been very pretty, in your own unique way, but you were also rather shy. Your exchanges were always polite and charming, even if they never broke deeper than surface-level; overall, he’d found you incredibly endearing.
He never kept in touch, but as the years went by, he had often wondered about you.
Back then, it was hard to see past his own preoccupations: he was so focused on not failing his classes, Corroded Coffin, Hellfire, his dealing gig with Rick. But in retrospect, it always seemed to him like he had missed out on something special in not taking the time to properly befriend you.
Now, against all odds, you’re right here in front of him. And he had found you attractive back then, but now? Holy shit. You’re striking to look at.
As he studies your side profile, he thinks, it’s not that your appearance has really changed much, but rather the way you seem to be holding yourself.
You used to walk quickly through the hallways with your shoulders hunched and your head down, like you were trying to make yourself as small as possible. But now your posture is relaxed, your stance casual; your head is held high and a slight smile turns up the corners of your lips. And your clothes seem different too, like maybe you’d finally found your personal style, and were dressing in the way that you truly liked.
Is this what they call kismet? Fate, destiny, whatever, maybe Eddie’s fantasy-oriented brain was jumping to conclusions, but he thinks of the floor-misery he’d been wallowing in not even an hour ago — had his internal bitching been an unintentional prayer, which was now being answered?
He takes a few cautious steps forward, trying to act natural.
You glance at him when he comes nearer and offer him a quick smile before turning back to the sweet assortment before you. 
Eddie stands next to you awkwardly, pretending to browse, hoping to see you make some gesture of familiarity, any confirmation that you might remember him as well as he remembers you. 
But nothing. The seconds tick by.
You reach for a box of chocolates and Eddie’s overwhelmed with a sense of impending doom. He starts sweating. Any second now, you would pluck a shiny, ribbon-adorned package and twirl away from him, vanishing into thin air, and the moment would be gone. His opportunity would be over, and he’d never, ever see you again.
“I’m so sorry,” he blurts out. His face turns crimson, but he blunders on anyway. “I don’t wanna bother you, but did you graduate from Hawkins High in ‘87?”
You turn to him, eyebrows raised in surprise, one arm still outstretched. A breathy laugh escapes you. “Yeah, I did.” You give him the tiniest wave. “Hi, Eddie.”
He could almost cry in relief. You do remember him.
“Hi.” He returns your wave, dopey grin unfurling on his face. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you just now. I didn’t think you would remember me,” you explain apologetically.
Forget you? Absurd. “Of course I remember you. How’ve you been?”
Your voice is bright, cheerful. “I’ve been good! Busy with school.”
College, of course. You had definitely been an honor roll kid. “If you’re in school, then you don’t still live in town, do you?”
“Nah, my university’s too far. I got a place near campus, but I come home every now and then.” You smile, and motion towards yourself. “Obviously.”
“Oh. Nice.” Eddie twiddles his thumbs nervously. “Are your classes going good?”
“For the most part. They’re stressful sometimes, but that’s to be expected, I guess.”
“Yeah, but you’re super smart. I’m sure you’re killin’ it up there.”
“I’m trying my best,” you reply with a modest shrug. “What about you? What have you been up to lately?” You look at him with genuine interest, like you’re truly eager to hear about how he’s doing.
Oh, what to say. He opts for simplicity. “Bartending. At the moment I’m between The Hideout and The Attic. Although, I’m thinkin’ about trying to get a job at the garage instead.”
“You should!” Your voice is sincere, full of warmth. “I bet you’d be great there — I know you did a lot of work on your van.”
A bolt of pleasure runs through him. You didn’t just remember his name and face, but you recalled some minor details about him as well. He stands a little taller. “Thank you. We’ll see if it works out, I suppose.”
There’s a brief pause. Eddie moistens his chapped lips with his tongue. “Listen…”
Do it, you coward. If she says no, she says no, and you’ll get over it. Eventually.
“Um, if you’re ever home for the weekend, would you maybe wanna hang out? Grab a coffee or something?”
You look taken aback, but not displeased. Eddie counts that as a win. 
“Sure. That would be really fun.”
He flashes you a grin. “Sick.” Then it occurs to him: you came home for Valentine’s Day weekend. Surely you’re in Hawkins because you have a date lined up with some former classmate who swooped in and asked you out after he had gone, and that’s who you were buying candy for and —
“I’m assuming you’re busy this weekend, though?” You point at the treats in front of you. “‘Cause I see you’re here to pick up the goods,” you tease him cheerfully.
“Oh, n-not really,” he stammers. “Wayne asked me to pick up something for our neighbor. I’m just an errand boy.” He swallows. “Do you have any big plans?”
“Nope,” you reply casually, lips popping the p-sound. You pull the candy you’d be aiming for before he interrupted, a pack of Hershey’s cream-filled chocolate hearts. You nod at him sagely. “I am my own Valentine this year.”
You don’t need to be. I’ll volunteer. 
Eddie musters up all his courage, rocking slightly on his feet. “Actually, if you don’t have plans…like, if you’re not seeing anybody…would you wanna go out on a date with me tomorrow?” Nerves get the better of him and he starts pouring out word-vomit, totally oblivious to the way your expression is getting softer and softer the longer he rambles. “I get that it’s Valentine’s Day, I don’t know if you think that’s really…weird for a first date, or…if you even wanna go on a date with me at all, which if you don’t, that’s totally fine and I understand —”
“I don’t think that would be weird at all,” you cut in, giving him a smile that could melt an iceberg. “Eddie, I would love to go on a date with you.”
He feels like he’s having a fever dream. This can’t be real. Is this what manifesting is? 
From now on, when he wants something, he’s gonna go cry on his bedroom floor about it. 
Painfully aware of how clumsy his proposition came out, Eddie tries to put at least one suave move on you. “Well, if we really have a date tomorrow,” he says, swiping the Hershey’s from you, “then there’s no reason for you to be buyin’ your own chocolates. Allow me.”
Ten minutes later, both of you armed with candies and a phone number apiece, Eddie escorts you across the icy parking lot to your car. You grip his arm tightly crossing over a slippery patch of asphalt, and his stomach flutters in a way it hasn’t in years.
Okay, okay. 
Maybe there is something to be said for this stupid, fake holiday.
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thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist
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ghost-proofbaby · 2 months
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IT WILL COME BACK (E.M.)
"honey, don't feed me - i will come back."
summary: when eddie came back from the upside down, he was different. and you finally come to realize just how different the man you saved truly is one night, when push comes to shove.
pairings: kas!eddie munson x reader
warnings: mentions of BLOOD (in sexual manner), mentions of BITING (in sexual manner), allusions to possible coercion (consent is still explicitly stated - trust me), mentions of death and trauma, mentions of eddie's canon death, taking a lot of creative liberty with expansive vampire lore across all media, mentions of murderous dreams? (eddie dreamt about killing reader idk), oral (f receiving), smut. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY.
wc: 7.7k+
a/n: i told y'all i'd write a serious biting/blood kink fic one day - today is the day. very lazily edited so beware.
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When Eddie came back from the Upside Down, he was different.
There were subtle changes at first. Small, minute details that were easy to ignore. Everyone could turn a blind eye to them — everyone figured they would fade once the boy healed. His healing was first priority, and whatever lingered after could be dealt with.
Get Eddie better. Then question all that lingers.
A simple plan. A genius plan. A torturous plan.
The two of you had been friends, if you could even call it that, prior to it all. Teasing in the hallways, working on school projects here and there when in shared classes, he was your favorite (and only) dealer when you craved something to make sleep come just a little bit easier. He had been familiar — an old ghost you'd grown comfortable with, long before you’d seen those large and wet eyes looking back up at you in the boathouse. 
Long before he’d pieced together the puzzle pieces as to why you’d needed the weed to cancel out the nightmares. Long before he’d processed exactly what those nightmares entailed.
But then, you’d fought for him. You’d fought with him. And most importantly, you’d bled with him.
God, you had bled for him. 
Something admirable had blossomed in that short time. Eddie’s entire life had fallen apart, thread by frayed thread, and that new planted emotion had been the only solid thing to emerge for him to absolutely cling to. You were more than a fellow classmate to pass by in the hallways. You were more than his favorite customer, always weaponizing fluttering lashes and puckered lips for a discount he’d have given you regardless. 
You were a force to be reckoned with, and had ignited a hunger in him like no other.
That’s all he had thought it was when he’d awoken in his living room — not the distorted version but the real one — to you screaming for the others to help you as you’d sealed his wounds. That’s all he had thought it was when you’d come to visit him as wounds turned to scars, and stabbing pains turned to hungering pangs. So he had tried to bury it, listen to Harrington and Wheeler and Buckley when they told him to take time to readjust. He’d locked away that hunger and focused on his healing, just as everyone else had, and told himself it was just residual feelings. 
Residual feelings had been bound to happen after seeing someone bloody their hands, with your own blood, for your survival. 
And in his burial, he’d never considered a similar hunger igniting somewhere deep within you.
You visited far more often than you should have. Returning time and time again to change his bandages, taking on one too many shifts at the hospital during his unconscious spells and baring your teeth for anyone who got too close. The sweet blood on your hands hadn’t washed away in that first shower; you swore, if you looked closer, you could still see the stain of nearly losing him across your knuckles. 
Physical wounds were easier to heal than the internal ones. It was easier to lather on antibiotic lotion than it was to sleep soundly at night. Both of you came to realize that quickly in the weeks that followed Eddie’s return from the dead.
His nights were plagued with bad dreams, with thirst and cravings he couldn’t quite name. He’d wake up, burning up from the inside out with a fever that never existed. Tearing skin. Puncture wounds. Blood spilling across floors and his lips alike. He could never tell if the shivers that traced his spine had been from the cruel visions that had become his nightly visitors or if it was due to his perpetual drop in temperature that had worried Nancy since the very first night home from the hospital, that had concerned the nurses who piled blankets atop him during his week long sleep of recovery. 
Your nights were even less kind. Horrific memories were the demons that haunted you — remembering the way you had watched Eddie cut that sheet rope, remembering finding him bloodied on the ground, remembering the warmth of his blood seeping across your palms and how when your ear had turned just as heated with it as you pressed it to his chest. Only to hear nothing. Emptiness.
His heart had stopped for minutes. Plural.
It had been your steady rhythm, your desperate hands and your gasping breaths breathing into his lungs. You’d sunk your claws into him, caught them right between his ribs and had decided he couldn’t leave you.
Some nights, when you wake up screaming, you can still taste his blood on your lips. You sometimes still swore that when you’d checked for a pulse after that, you hadn’t heard anything. Still worried that Eddie Munson’s heart never really restarted and resumed beating. 
The worst was when you’d stare through the faded grey of  mornings plastering across your room’s walls, and could still remember that initial look in his blown out pupils, once honey brown swallowed in pure black as he’d taken his first breath on his own. 
Hunger.
You’d felt it, too. Shame riddled you on the nights you’d come down from the nightmares and remember it; it was as though the Universe had snapped back into place the moment you’d watched his chest first rise. A need so ardent to remain at his side. A chain clicking into place, binding both yourself and Eddie to one another, unaware of just what price had been paid to keep the boy that had laid under you in this world. Unaware of the hunger you had struck the match too that would become both your downfalls.
And so it had been buried. Something alive, even with your doubts of Eddie’s liveliness, and choking on dirt while six feet under. You and Eddie, two sides of the same coin, had decided to not speak of it. He never told you how he had come to be able to pinpoint your heartbeat in every shared room he entered, throat burning as his gaze always settled on you, and you never told him of the matching aches that had shamefully sparked within your chest and between your hips for him. 
A hunger to be near one another. A hunger to devour. Neither of you really understood the heaviness.
“How are you feeling today, Eddie?” Steve asks as he sits on the edge of the new bed in the new apartment in the new part of town the Munson men now occupy. 
Government money could go a Hell of a long way. Especially after your home had been devastated by the aftermath of alternate dimensions and unheard of evil being defeated.
“Fine,” is the only response Eddie can muster.
In reality, every time anyone came near him now, he burned. His throat tightened till it was surely raw, he swore his teeth sharpened until a mere slip of his tongue against his canines could bring the taste of metallic blood to his mouth. His entire body would tense with every person that walked through his door.
Control. Whatever was happening to him, Eddie needed to exercise control.
“Just fine?” Steve continues on, not catching the drift as he puts down the bag of things he’d bought at Eddie’s request. Basic things — painkillers, packs of cigarettes, a 6-pack. Some habits die harder and can’t be controlled, “You look like shit, Munson.” 
“Gee, thanks, Stevie.” 
Everyone had assumed the dark shadows beneath Eddie’s eyes would fade. They assumed his cheeks would eventually fill back out. They assumed he could wash away the ashen shade his hair now flatly flowed in. It was as if the life had been drained from Eddie since that day, and they had all assumed it would eventually flow back into him. 
It never did. Just as his new hunger lingered, so did the look of Death.
“Sorry, man,” Steve throws his hands up, shrugging a bit before he stands, “Just being honest. It’s the best policy.”
“Is it? Is it really?” 
If honesty was the best policy, Eddie could have filled the room with it. He could admit about the nightmarish wants, needs, he’d been keeping at bay. He could admit the way his irritation had been growing this last week every time another body, another friend, walked through his doorway and it wasn’t you. You, who had begun to plague the night terrors. You, who Eddie was beginning to crave far more than he had before he’d stared the afterlife down the barrel of the gun. 
Steve just looks at Hawkins’ newest zombie boy, sighing, “Look, I don’t know what’s got you pissed off-“
“The whole dying thing, for starters.”
“-or why you’ve insisted on being an asshole to all of us these last few weeks-“
“Again, I died.” 
“-but you’ve got everyone but me scared to visit you. We’re all scared of you biting our heads off, dude,” Steve finally finishes with a scowl. 
Everyone. It’s unspoken that you’re included in the generalization. 
It occurs to Eddie that maybe, just maybe, he should be kinder if he ever wants the ache of yearning to see you again to fade. If that’s what he could call this ache.
By the time Steve has left, Eddie’s still thinking about his warning. About the way he had been unusually cruel since coming back to life, since waking up handcuffed to a hospital bed. It made sense initially. But he wasn’t handcuffed to a hospital bed anymore — he was home, or as close to home as he could get, and he was technically safe.
The issue was that he’d accepted his safety. Everyone who had wanted Eddie Munson dead was now six feet under themselves. No, the bigger issue at hand was everyone else’s safety.
Your safety.
Once he’d realized you were the staring lead in his violent fantasies, he had stopped calling. Half of your absence last week had been his fault. 
No one really bothered to look deeper into it. Steve didn’t press as to why Eddie’s fridge had remained empty, Nancy didn’t take second glances at the odd books on vampire tales that were now littering all the free real estate of Eddie’s room, and you hadn’t questioned the coldness of his tone whenever he spoke to you. The chill of his words had grown icier than his own palms, desperate to keep you at arm’s length until he figured out what had changed in him that day he came back to life. 
He wanted you near. He wanted to rip your throat out. He wanted your blood to stain his mouth and neck just as his had stained your hands. That was an issue. That wasn’t normal. 
Something had changed in Eddie Munson, and it had terrified him to his twisted core, and no one had cared enough to notice. Not yet.
It took you two weeks to be fed up with the radio silence. 
Eddie stopped calling even Jonathan (the only one of the group he found he didn’t want to devour whole, as it turns out). When everyone had mentioned it in passing, it had only reminded you of the sleepless nights you’d be enduring. That small voice in the back of your head that had called out to you in the dead of night, the whisper of come to me that echoed all the way across a broken town. 
Come to me. 
Sometimes you swore it was Eddie’s voice calling to you. Sometimes, you nearly left your own new apartment in the dead of night, and let your legs guide you to the undead boy you had single-handedly revived.
Tonight was one of those nights. Your stomach was twisting, your head was pounding, your bones were aching. Every single inch of you hurt as it listened to that soft calling, and at some point, you gave in.
Hunger. You were insatiable with the need and drive to be at Eddie’s side. Warnings from the others be damned.
One thing leads to another. You find your coat, you find your car keys. You find yourself driving the deserted streets of Hawkins in the middle of the night. You find yourself on the Munson doorstep, knuckles shaking and aching with the knowledge that just beyond the wood of the door, he was there. You don’t have to see him to feel him; his thrumming presence, his anchoring existence. 
Come to me. 
The door swings open before you get the chance to knock. This string tying your two souls together is not a one-way channel, it seems. 
“Why are you here?” 
You watch him wince as the harsh words leave him. Immediately, you know that the abrasiveness is on instinct. Just as something claws inside of you to be near him, there is something within him howling to keep you far from him. 
The polarity of two magnets. Some nights, surely, his twists in a way that would draw him to you, just as yours will twirl with the sensibility that whatever has changed within him should give you cause to run as far away from him as possible. 
But tonight, your magnetism only yanks you closer to him. He doesn’t even invite you in, and yet, you find yourself stepping over the threshold of the new apartment. 
“You’ve gone quiet,” you whisper as an answer. It’s not what he wants to hear, grimace deepening, nearly a scowl now, “I just… It’s been weeks. I…” 
I missed you. I needed you. I heard you in my dreams and I’ve never had much self-control when it comes to you. 
Magnets are a useless metaphor for whatever is happening here between you. A better comparison would be the cliche image of a moth to a flame; he’s dangerous, threatening to burn you alive, and you still find your heart fluttering after him hopelessly. You’re going to get scorned, and you’ll still never learn. You’ve fallen victim to a tired narrative that you’d rolled your eyes at in a plethora of books. How many times had you sworn that wouldn’t be you? Just how many eye rolls had you exhausted at the mere idea?
And now, here you were, on his doorstep. Grasping for something you’re not sure either of you can give. 
“I’ve been dealing with a few things,” he mutters as he shuts the door behind you, shielding you both from the chill of the night. The room is still cold, especially in his radius, “Didn’t think it would make much of a difference.” 
“You didn’t think I’d care if you just stopped calling?” you turn slowly, taking in the state of the living room. Wayne was clearly gone for the night, work most probably, and several books littered the coffee table. Eddie had been the one reading them, lounging on the couch. 
The last time you had seen him, he couldn’t even sit up in bed on his own. 
He’s keeping an unusual distance, nearly leaning back out of your vicinity, “Figured you were busy.”
He’s never been this short with you. His words are choked up, his body tense with pain. You assume it’s just his injuries bothering him.
You couldn’t be more wrong, but you’re completely unaware.
“I brought you back from the dead, and you think I’d still be too busy for you,” you laugh humorlessly, fully in disbelief at his pitiful excuse, “Eddie, we could find out Vecna didn’t really die, those damn cracks in the Earth could open right back up, and the first person I’d care about finding is you.”
The animal inside that had been yearning for his presence is satiated for now, but you can still feel it lurking in the darkest depths of your mind, ready to call out a new request at any moment. It’s the distraction that has you spilling pathetic truths. 
The only response he offers you is a dead stare. With eyes wide, pupils nearly swallowed up by darkness. 
“You could have called,” your voice cracks, body shaking with the effort not to take a step closer to him, “You could have just let me know you were still alive.”
“I-” 
He cuts himself off when he’s the one taking a step closer. His entire face twists with pain, and you give up keeping your distance. In an instant, you’re at his side as your hand reaches out for his bicep. 
He flinches away. Something inside of you burns. 
Your hand is hovering in the air between the two of you, and in this lighting, you swear the skin is still stained with the blood that won’t wash away. 
“Please don’t,” he begs, “I’m fine, but… please.”
You don’t know what he’s begging for. Distance, for you to pull your hand away, time – you don’t know what he needs. 
“We should sit down,” you insist, finally pulling your hand as far from him as possible but making no move to put the space back between you two, “Has anyone helped you with your bandages? If your wounds got infected-”
“They didn’t.”
“If you didn’t change the bandages, they definitely could have-”
“They’re not infected,” he grits out, but he’s still walking over to the couch regardless, “They’re healed.” 
Healed.
Mere weeks ago, those wounds were still deep enough to keep you from ever achieving a full night's rest. Deep enough to worry you to the core that you would wake up to them finally having consumed him. Deep enough that you all assumed it would take him months, not weeks, to recover.
“What do you mean they healed, Eddie?” you whisper, almost reaching out for him as he sits down. 
Your hand twitches, but the echoes of his begging and his flinching keep it at bay as you stand before him. 
“I mean, they healed,” he huffs, nostrils flaring as he takes deep breaths. He’s looking anywhere in the room but at you, his gaze subverting you with purpose. As though the mere sight of you, the mere proximity, is painful to him, “Don’t know how, don’t know why – they just did.” 
“So why are you still in pain?” 
A sharper intake of breath. A hush of silence falling over the apartment. Even the buzz of the building’s AC unit has faded from all your senses. It’s just you and him, and a heavy quietude like no other. 
Until he finally breaks the surface tension, breathing out, “You.” 
Your heart drops. That tug inside your chest, the one taut as you look at him right within your reach yet still so far away, almost snaps. 
“Me?”
He nods with a harsh swallow, “I- Look, I can’t explain it, but when I came back, I came back…” 
“Different?” 
He doesn’t have to explain it. You’d felt it.
The moment his eyes had opened, just moments after what should have been blissful victory. The taste of his blood heavy on your tongue, a terrible sweetness that had choked you rather than its initial metallic twang. The whispers of his voice in your mind. 
He wasn’t the only one changed from whatever had occurred that night. 
“Different is a good way of putting it,” he nods, looking up with apologetic eyes, “It’s not you. It’s cliche as fuck, but it really isn’t – it’s me. I died, and you brought me back, but I don’t think either of us knew the cost.” 
The yearning. The nightmares. The unmanageable needs. The hunger. 
“What was the cost?” 
He almost doesn’t hear you. Your voice is a whisper, tone weighed down with the curse of knowing. 
You might not have known the cost when you were pressing your palms into his chest through your wretched sobs, functioning as his heart and lungs for nearly a minute, but you think you might have a clue now. 
All that had been tethering you to him since he’d come back to you, all those webs and strings that had formed their knots around both of your necks. He’d changed, and you had plummeted right into the chasm of the unknown with him.
His blood on your tongue, sweet as honey. 
Blood shouldn’t be sweet. 
He grabs one of the books off the coffee table, motioning for you to join him on the couch. Under the weight of your realization, you’re nearly under a trance. All he has to do is wave a hand, and you follow. 
You’re at his beck and call. Just like you had been when he’d been calling out for you, yearning for you. 
“Don’t make me say it,” he mutters under his breath, tossing the book into your lap the moment you’ve sat down. This time, you’re mindful to keep your distance. 
This time, you’re painfully aware of the compromising situation the two of you have found yourselves in. 
The book is older, leather-bound and worn from years of readers’ careless hands breaking the spine. The corners of every page are weather, close to disintegration. The entire thing could easily pass for a Halloween decoration. 
It’s not. You flip open to the title page, and if Eddie didn’t appear so deathly serious at your side, you would have scoffed. 
“Dracula?” you question carefully, running a finger over the delicate script of the title, “Eddie, I don’t-”
“I’m not insane,” he interrupts you, “I’m not fucking- I swear to you. I’ve gathered up every goddamn book about it that I can. Fictional, nonfictional. Just- there’s obviously a Hell of a lot more fictional material to work with, okay?” 
A vampire. He’s convinced he’s a vampire.
And even worse – you’re convinced right along with him. 
You turn your head to look at him, trying to find the right words, but all you find is Eddie burying his face in his hands, head nearly hung between his knees. 
“I can’t eat normal food anymore,” his voice is muffled, “That was the first sign. Couldn’t stomach it, made me throw up for hours when I tried. And then all those nurses kept talking about how I was healing faster than they expected. Most of my smaller cuts – those healed in under a day,” he finally lifts his face just enough to turn and peer at you through all the stray curls that fall into his vision, “My vision and hearing were the next things I noticed. Remember how I had a nonstop migraine those first few days?” 
He doesn’t need to convince you, but the argument is compelling, “It… wasn’t a migraine.” 
He shakes his head. “Not even close. Just turns out that it’s a killer to get used to fucking superhuman night vision and impeccable hearing. I still can’t handle being out in the sun very long. I don’t… burn up or any of that shit, but… it just…” he trails off, shoulders falling in defeat before he throws himself back against the couch. When he continues, his tone is flat, devoid of all emotion, “I keep having these dreams about you, too. Bad dreams. Terrible dreams.” 
You shut the book, toss it back onto the coffee table, and decide to Hell with keeping your distance. 
You need it. Even if he’ll only allow you to get an inch closer to him, you need it. 
“What do you mean by terrible dreams?” you ask, breath catching at the end of your question as you scoot yourself closer on the couch. Even with such a small movement, Eddie is quick to notice, eyes flicking to you quickly with a sense of urgency flashing behind them. 
“Don’t,” he lowly warns. 
“What’s happening in your dreams, Eddie?” 
Another inch closer. His jaw clenches. 
“Sweetheart, do not-”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. Your knee bumps into his thigh, and you watch him go rigid. Hands turning to fists, eyes pinching shut and face twisting with the same pain he’d worn the ghost of when you first arrived at the apartment. 
The moment you touch him, you see it. The flashes of his nightmares, all those terrible actions haunting him every time he closed his eyes. You. Your blood. That hunger. 
Like a blackhole in the center of your stomach, it burns viciously as it sucks the air out of your lungs. It threatens to cave your entire being into itself until there’s nothing left. Not even a crumb of who you once were. 
But it's not yours. It’s Eddie’s. 
That pain on his face is only exhibiting a fraction of what he was feeling. That dizzying craving that he’d miraculously been keeping at bay since you’d simply entered the building, not even yet knocking on his door. You hadn’t even been in the same room as him yet, and he had still known. Had smelt you, had felt you. 
He could almost taste you. 
“You…” you have to shift your knee away from him, break the touch, break the connection, “You haven’t fed since you woke up.”
“I haven’t fed, period.” 
With the connection severed, he somehow finds it in himself to open his eyes once more. You don’t know how – if he’s feeling what you’d just been privy to, you’d be an incoherent mess on the floor. Something feral and unrecognizable. 
Although, maybe he was nearly there. You couldn’t see his pupils. That same look when he’d first woken up – a man swallowed whole by hunger. 
“You’ve been dreaming about ripping my throat out,” you say it as a matter of fact, not a lick of judgment in your tone. 
It wasn’t you scrutinizing him. It was what you had seen, with one simple touch. 
His voice is hoarse as he echoes in confirmation, “I’ve been dreaming about ripping your throat out.” 
You should probably be afraid. All your survival instincts should be kicking in, your feet should be carrying you towards the door, you shouldn’t be leaning in closer. 
“You know what really sealed the whole vampire ordeal though, sweetheart?” he breathes out, your eyes fluttering shut at the lull in his hushed tone. 
Just as you’ve been leaning in, he’s been slowly turning his body to face yours, hands twitching at his sides. He’s no longer retreating from your presence, sucking down breaths in harsh gulps the closer you grow to him. 
He’s losing control. You’re losing control. 
That thread, vibrant red as it draws you near him, is clear as day now. A noose around your neck. A road to your damnation. 
A road to your hunger. 
You hardly hum in response, completely entranced now. Had he ever been capable of this before? Of holding you beneath such an inescapable spell with such ease? 
Probably. 
He doesn’t use his words to answer. Instead, he finally takes the plunge. 
His head ducks down towards your neck just as his hands lose the war, grabbing onto your hips, dragging you dangerously close to him until his lips hovered just over your pulse point. And by some strength that you certainly don’t possess, he stops there. Letting his lips barely brush against your soft skin, breath coming out in pants for you to feel, to relish, to get lost in. And just as soon as those pants, those waves, become a comfortable pattern to succumb to, you feel them.
His fangs. 
Grazing over your sensitive skin. Sharp tips nipping at a surface they could so easily break, pierce with one wrong move. Your pulse is thrumming beneath the surface, heart racing painfully as Eddie’s grip turns bruising. 
Come to me. 
“Please.” 
You’re the one begging now. It goes against every rule you’ve ever seen applied in fiction. If a vampire is baring their fangs against your neck, you should be reaching for a stake. The only noise escaping you should be a scream for help, not the pathetic whimpers beginning to slip out. 
“I can’t,” you feel his gasp more than you can hear it. Your blood is too loud, roaring in your ears as you feel the fangs slip with his words, “I can’t.” 
That hunger you felt, the one that had called out to you through the night and led you right to his doorstep, is unavoidable now. You need him closer, you need him to do this. For the first time since you had saved his life and tasted his blood after the Upside Down, everything seems to click into place. All he needs to do is let them sink into you, take that final leap of faith and reprieve that ache you’ve battled for weeks now. 
You’re so close. So close. 
“Eddie, please,” you’re nearly sobbing, hands gripping onto his shoulders, trying to pull him in closer. 
But you’re no match for his strength. You don’t know if it’s a new addition with his vampire business or if there was always more to him than met the eye, but he easily stays stoic against your attempts, not moving a centimeter. Still hovering, still just barely making contact with your heartbeat. 
“I-” his head drops slightly, tip of his nose beginning to trail down the side of your neck, mouth no longer dangerously close, “You saw my dreams-”
“I trust you.” 
You do. You trust him even more now than you had when you first stumbled upon him in the boathouse. More than when he had pleaded his case, promised he hadn’t been the one to kill Chrissy Cunningham. The trust comes easier than breathing as his nose nuzzles into the junction of your neck and shoulder. 
“You shouldn’t,” he mutters, fangs now brushing your collar bone, “You really, really shouldn’t.” 
He doesn’t stop you when you move to straddle his hips. Your weight settles onto his lap, and he only fights to keep his face burrowed there in your shoulder, arms now moving around your waist to hold you tightly to him. 
His self-control is impeccable. You’d admire him and all this impressiveness another time, when something inside of you wasn’t lamenting his resistance. 
All at once, it occurs to you how to give him the final push. 
“Did I ever tell you how sweet your blood was on my tongue after I brought you back?” you start, sighing, rolling your shoulders to expose more of your neck, grip on his shoulders tightening, “All that blood, all those tears, and I still can’t forget how welcome that warmth of you was in my mouth. How I needed more. How I pictured it every night, after every nightmare-” 
He breaks. 
One moment, his nose is buried in your skin. And the next, his fangs are. 
You weren’t sure what to expect, but relief would have been low on your list. You gasp out in initial shock, but as you feel his teeth dig in, it’s as though something has snapped. The ache has been satiated, preening as you feel the warmth of your blood contrast the chill of his chin pressing into you. 
If there’s any pain, you don’t feel it through the haze of pleasure. 
Ice shards spread through your bloodstream, but the point in which Eddie’s mouth is connected to you radiates heat. He’s pulling you into him, letting go completely and relinquishing all that control as he nearly purrs against your skin in satisfaction. That connection is back, two minds linking with a heavy click, and you can feel all his pleasure mingling with your own. Satiation, desperation, adoration – the plethora of emotions all swarm your head and block out any better judgment. 
You’d let him drain you dry, if that’s what he needed. If nothing more than to hear those soft moans as his fangs sink even deeper. 
He pulls back too soon, though, suddenly and unexpectedly. Just as quickly as he had given in to both your desires, he’s putting an end to them. He hadn’t taken much blood, but your head is swimming from the loss all the same. Your grip has gone slack on him, hands slipping down to just barely cradle his biceps while his own touch stays unyielding around you. 
You can hear his thoughts. Or rather, maybe more aptly put, you can feel them. 
He wants to devour you. Wholly, ruthlessly. 
He looks up at you with pupils still blown wide, chest heaving and a small scarlet drip trailing from the corner of his mouth. For the first time since he’d come back to you, he looks alive. Hair fluffed in a halo around his head, skin tinted with a healthy glow and unmistakable blush, bags beneath his eyes faded for the time being. 
You were never quite sure if Eddie Munson’s heart had ever restarted, knew for certain that it hadn’t now, but you swear you can feel its pulse finally thrumming for you. 
I need more. 
It’s his voice in your head, echoing in the empty space as you look down with wild eyes to match his. 
But it’s your voice in his head when you respond instantaneously. 
Then take it. 
Something unspoken lies there in the need. He doesn’t move back to your neck, doesn’t bite down and drink his fill of your blood. He only stares for a few seconds, watching the welt of blood that pools from each puncture wound of his making. His eyes follow when it runs down your skin, as though he might lose it should he so much as blink. Down, down, down. Following the trail that his nose had followed minutes before, across your collarbone until it stains the neck of your loose shirt. 
My pleasure. 
His hold proves helpful when he quickly changes positions, roughly throwing you down onto the couch before he’s settled between your thighs, crawling his way up your body. He pays close attention to the maroon trail on your throat, his tongue cleaning up after his mess, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. 
Sweet as honey. 
His tongue only pauses for a moment over the bite wound, pressing into it, making your back arch as you press yourself fully into him. Your head digs painfully into the cushion behind you as you expose your neck, wanting and begging and pleading all without words. 
“I think we should take this off,” he plucks at the hem of your shirt, tugging hard before he begins to carefully lift. His freezing knuckles brush against your burning skin, eliciting a whimper from you, “Before we make an ever bigger mess. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?” 
A sultry tone you’ve never heard from him before. Honeyed words, familiar to how he once spoke, but entirely new in the way they curl around you. There’s a confidence there, a baiting that he’s luring you with. 
“Yes, please.” 
He could ask anything of you in this moment, and you’d be eager to comply. Fueled by your desire for him before the events of spring break, worsened by his new condition. A bright, red, vibrating thread. You couldn’t severe the tie if you wanted to. 
And you most certainly did not want to. 
Your shirt is removed, his hands careful despite the way they shake. His words may be smooth, but each move is jagged, the only sign you had that he’s still exercising control. 
“And these?” he whispers, lowering his lips to your sternum as he toys with the band of your pants. His fangs scratch down the center of your stomach as it quivers with each breath, careful to not break skin as they make their presence known. You nearly lose all capability to speak until he says, “Use your words, baby. Tell me I can take them off.” 
Yes. 
His eyes flare, looking up to you, “Use your words. Not your mind. I want to hear how badly you need me – I want everyone to hear you beg.” 
The words strike straight to your core. Lashing out in your lower stomach, burning deliciously. 
It’s more than putting on a show. He needs to know you want this. 
“Take them off,” you gasp out, hands wandering to tangle in his hair, “Take- Take it all off. I’m yours, Eddie.” 
Shaking hands perform a dance you had long since fantasized about. In easier days, when Eddie had been uninvolved in the episode down, heart still beating along as he would bounce his knees in front of you and his fingers would idly fiddle with his pencils and pens. A yearning, a wanting, you’d always held for the boy. 
He used to be an escape from it all. A pretty thing to daydream about when you weren’t worried about monsters. And now – he was one of the monsters. 
Your monster. Tied to you inexplicably, brought back by your hands and your stubborn efforts. 
His lips and fangs are one in the same, trailing along your body as he finds a home at the apex between your thighs. Even in undeath, he’s the most beautiful thing your mind could conjure. 
You’d forgotten how he was privy to your every thought until he reacts.
“You’re too sweet,” he murmurs, smirking salaciously as he mouths innocently at that sensitive skin of your inner thigh, tongue darting out to lick a cool stride before he breathes out against it. It has you writhing beneath his hold, “You’ve wanted this all this time, sweetheart? Wanted to see me, between these pretty thighs, making you scream my name?” His mouth falls open a bit wider, the sharp canines pressing but not sinking against where he had just licked. He holds there, eyes locking with yours, until he pulls back to cockily say, “Could’ve just said something, y’know. Didn’t have to bring me back from the dead to have me devoted to you.” 
Finally, finally, he lets his fangs sink back into you. The soft meat of your thigh is more pliant in his mouth, and he doesn’t linger as long as he had on your neck. One nick, just enough to start the blood flow, before he’s pulling back and licking hungrily at the scarlet liquid. Less for feeding, more for marking.
Marking you as his, just as you have with him. His methods just appeared a bit more physical. 
He’s quick to avert his focus on your cunt, no warning before the tongue still covered in your blood is taking long strides over your entrance and clit. Devotion. That was the only word to describe the way he was unraveling you, alternating between indulging in your sweet cunt and returning back to that bite, going as far to even sink his teeth in a second time to take a proper drink of you. His chin and lips grow slick with it all – with the blood, with your wetness, with his own saliva. A starved man with a feast before him. 
The way he’s rutting his hips into the couch as he slings your legs over his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed. 
It’s a mess. A wonderful, satisfying, enchanting mess.
Beautiful. So beautiful, all mine. 
His voice has you teetering on an edge of new carnal pleasure. Completely consumed by him, your hands tugging viciously at his curls. His face is round once more, eyes and cheeks no longer sunken in, vitality being breathed into him with each taste of your blood. 
Let me touch you. Please.
You beg over that connection, trying your best to not buck your hips mercilessly against his tongue. You feel his wicked grin. 
“You’re already touching me, sweetheart,” he reaches up, untangling your fingers from his hair for emphasis before he’s pinning them to your sides, “And what did I say about using our words? Hm?” 
“Need more,” your voice is wrecked as you tilt your head back, wrists straining against his hold, “I need more.” 
You’re fully light-headed now, the blood loss finally catching up. Maybe you were about to let him drain you dry. 
And what a beautiful way to die. At the hand, at the fangs, of the one you had fought so urgently to bring back to you. 
One last timid lick to the wound on your thigh, and he’s crawling his way back up to you. The mess doesn't phase you as he kisses you hungrily – the blood remains sweet rather than metallic, the remnants of your juices still on his tongue – and you meet him with an unbridled fervent. Nipping at his lips with your own dull canines as if you were the one looking for a bite of vivacity. 
You don’t know when he lets go of your wrists, or when your hands find their way up beneath his shirt. The specifics don’t matter once he’s naked before you, clothes discarded messily to the ground with your own. The only thing that matters is the weight of him, the reminder that he was still here as his hips roll into yours and the head of him catches on your entrance. 
He had been dead. For minutes. And you had brought him back to you. 
The process had taken longer than the mere CPR administered, had taken weeks of whatever waiting game you two had tortured yourselves with, but you had him now. He was yours. You were his. There wasn’t a deity, a monster, an omniscient being in this world that could take that away from you. Not even Death herself. 
“Last chance, baby,” he whispers against your lips, holding himself up so that not a single inch of his skin pressed to yours. You nearly cried out, missing that connection, missing him. Your hunger, the hunger for him entirely, rattles your bones once more, “Say the word, and I’ll-”
“No,” your hands pause their exploration of skin jagged with scars. Reminders of those few dreadful moments in which the world existed without Eddie Munson in it, that would fade in time but never fully disappear. Always there, just like the stain of his blood on your palms. Always there, just like your desperation to have him at your side. “I meant it when I said I’m yours. I’m not changing my mind. I want this.” 
His skin is back on yours, body laid fully along your own road map, and it all comes flooding back. The pain of seeing his lifeless body, the nights spent in an eerie hospital room, baring your own teeth at any one who came too close to the man you had pulled back from the ledge of Death. The anxiety, the fear, the relief, the yearning – it all accumulates as he’s pressing into you, brimming you so full that there’s no room for memories of nightmares. 
He’s here. He’s yours. You’re his. 
His heart didn’t need to beat for you to accept that truth. 
You can’t decipher which chants of your name fall from his lips for others to hear, and which ones whisper in the depths of your mind for only you to bear witness to. Each curse, each grunt, each moan – there for you and only you anyways. You’re entirely unsure if your lips even separate once as he thrusts, cock brushing somewhere deep in you that has you clenching around him. 
And if his fangs wander, it only adds to the pleasure. 
Blood, sweat, and tears all mingle between your bodies. He’s holding you tighter than water, as though you’re at risk of disappearing from him at any given moment. But that link between your two minds, your two souls, is unwavering. It’s the only thing grounding you to the moment as your half curls around his waist and your heel digs into his lower back. Urging him, pressing him, taking him. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says it out loud, this time. You feel his lips brushing against your ear as he does, “Gripping me so tightly. This pussy was fucking made for me.” 
Every movement only unlocks something more feral inside the two of you. Your nails rake down his back, leaving angry red lines to trace over once it’s all said and done. There’s enough shallow bite marks across your neck that you’ll be wearing scarves for weeks, months. The others might question it, strangers might stare, but the pride you feel as he marks you is unmatched for any anxiety about it. 
That black hole of hunger is no longer swallowing either of you whole. That debilitating pain, that animal inside, has been tamed. 
When his hips begin to stutter, mouth no longer capable of the strength to properly bite you as his lips only smear the soft spattering of blood pooling at the base of your throat, you’re already there. Squeezing him tightly, sucking him in, voice raw as you let everyone know who’s ravishing you. 
Eddie. 
Hawkins’ newest zombie boy – Hawkins’ newest vampire. 
The climax is just as pleasurable as the lead up. The haze lingers long after his spent has dripped out of you, long after he’s collapsed into your body with exhaustion and contentment. The blood dries, the wounds clot – but that haze doesn’t falter. 
As long as his skin presses to yours, you feel that caress of his mind against yours. 
“Did…” you’re breathless as his face nuzzles into your nude chest, a few mindless hums of gratification still slipping from him as you bring a hand to toy with the curls at the crown of his head, “Did any of your vampire books say anything about… that?”
The connection. The bloodlust. The spell you swear he still has you under, even as it’s all said and done. 
He snorts against your skin, “Not that I, uh, recall.” 
“What? You mean to tell me in all your research, you never dived into any vampire smut?” you tsk jokingly, a calm smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He lifts his head, and you swear, those honey-brown irises have threads of a deep maroon now, “You’re slacking, Munson.” 
“Why read about it when I can just experience it?” he coos, letting his nose and lips drag across your still hot skin before he rests his chin on your sternum, “Besides, I mean – we’ll need to do this again, won’t we, baby? For research.” 
Your head still spins. Your body aches in a welcome manner. There will be a need for explanations to others, for actually researching his condition, later on. But for now, it’s enough. 
The pounding behind your ribcage, the one you know Eddie feels for the both of you when his ear presses to your chest, is enough. 
Of course, lover. 
That thought stays between the two of you. The world doesn’t need to know what can’t hurt them. 
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles
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zeldasnotes · 1 month
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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS 33
masterlist
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• People with Sun in the 8th house or aspecting Pluto might have been saved from situations because of their fathers name. For example might be threathened then the people find who your father is and apologizes.
• If you ask someone whats the worst thing someone ever said to them it will probably be something related to their Chiron placement. Because A when people touch our Chiron wound we remember it forever and B for some damn reason people seem to always touch where you have your Chiron wound bc its kinda obvious to others.
• If you have 10th house placements you have a trademark after your name, whatever you do you easily become known for it. People want to put a label on you and the themes of the planet you have there is the label thats most easily put. So when you have 10th house planets its extra important to think before you act.
• If you have Lilith conjunct North Node you need to learn to do your own thing. Ive seen people with this who didnt reach their potential until they refused to stop trying to fit in and be ”normal” . You are a class of your own. People will respond to you differently when you act like Lilith. Example: A rapper in my country have this placement in Virgo and was treated bad by other rappers bc of a beef he had on the streets and bla bla. Anyways he knew he wouldnt get collabs bc of this so he made it ”his” thing to never have a feature on his songs and to never do interviews and be on other rappers tracks. After this people started respecting him more. He used his inability to fit in to make himself look even better.
• Venus/Neptune involve their love interest in their art. A lot of rappers with this might want to have their partner on their albumcover, in their music video, paint their partner etc. Dating a man with this placement feels like being his muse.
• Be careful when you have Venus in Leo in the Solar Return Chart because this one can really make you want to SPLURGE. Especially clothes, bags and stuff that makes you look good. 💰🛒🛍️💸
• Talking to someone with a Mercury/Pluto or Mercury/Nessus placement can feel like being interrogated. Constant checking if you are lying, asking extra questions to see if you change your story, detailed questions to see if your story is true. Can be very exhausting to be around bc of this (sorry).
• Every Aquarius Rising Ive met looked better in person than on pictures. There is a striking quality that the camera have a hard time capturing. Same with Virgo and Pisces Rising.
• People with Jupiter conjunct personal planets are funnier when they are not trying than when they try to be funny.
• Nanisca the role played by Viola Davis in the movie ”Woman King” reminds me of Sun conjunct Lilith.
• People with Ceres(1) conjunct personal planets seem to not like adornment.
• Aura(1488) conjunct Mercury might come across as sneaky.
• Venus in the 8th house or Venus aspecting Pluto attracts people who would normally not want them which is why they need to be extra careful. They might be super tall and attract someone who usually only go for short people or vice versa. But because of the intense magnetism that having a plutonian venus gives everyone wants a taste of you no matter if they really WANT you or not. Be wary of who you share your energy with.
• Venus Square MC might feel like their looks and social skills doesnt match the career they want or how they want the public to see them.
• Juno(3) or Venus Square Mars are the kind of people to have a huge difference in taste when it comes to who they want to sleep with and who they see as relationship material.
• If you have Lilith in the 7th house or Lilith conjunct Venus your ex's new partners might become obsessed with you or you become obsessed with your partners ex's.
• Dejanira(157) conjunct Ascendant is probably the scariest synastry aspect Ive ever experienced. Experienced it 2 times and both times I was Ascendant and he was Dejanira. Very scary attacks. I can even look at pictures of these people.
• Mars conjunct MC can mean a lot of people are scared of you. A very intimidating placement. In a mans chart it makes other men look up to him. Women with this placement seem too struggle with this placement a lot tho since people are more likely to want to challenge a woman who comes across as intimidating.
• Scorpio Moons seem to be very fascinated with psychopaths.
• Sag Moons might have had extremely carefree parents. Thats why these people can be so good on their own, they raised themselves. But its also why they flee from issues because they were never forced to stay and solve stuff like in a normal family.
• Cancer Risings can be really intimidating, especially the eyes. Ive mistaken so many Cancer Risings for being Scorpio Risings.
• Populus(8647) conjunct Mercury might be more popular among younger people.
• Lilith in a womans chart seem to show what archetype she finds empowering and might even want to be and in a mans chart an archetype he finds fascinating. Ex. Lilith 2nd/8th: the golddigger femme fatale, black widow. Lilith 4th house: The family matriarch, Evil Stepmom. Lilith 10th house: The boss, the businesswoman, cold bitch. Lilith 7th house: The homewrecker, femme fatale, beauty queen, homecoming queen, Mr steal yo girl. (Not always ofc and mostly this goes for when you are underdeveloped)
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bloodykora · 8 months
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I Meant It
I finally wrote an actual one shot for Buggy :)
Summary: You 'babysit' Buggy while he's only a head.
No use of y/n however reader is referred to gal and very feminine pet names (I normally write gender neutral but this was very self serving). I had to write this on my phone so if the format is different from my norm, that is why.
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“I think his nose is cute.” A voice breaks out for the first time in the conversation, the other two slowly turning towards you in shock and judgement.
“I beg your pardon sweet thing?” Sanji is the first to break the moment of silence, you raise your shoulders at him. 
“I don’t know, he's like. Okay, you know those cats who have a limb missing and they go to scratch with that limb and everyone’s like ‘awww’. That’s kinda how I think I am with him right now, look at him. He’s just a head, a little kitty who can’t scratch behind his ear and needs some help.”
“You seem to forget about the village he destroyed, the one that offered us the rest of their food after we saved them because of what him and his crew did.”
“Zoro, you out of everyone has no right to judge considering you took that random dude’s brother’s head.” You stare at the Buggy in front of us with a cloth in his mouth, watching this whole conversation about him go down.
“I do not need to be around this.” Zoro states before leaving, huffing to himself right before he goes out of ear shot. 
“I never knew you out of everyone would be into the clown type but then again, all women are a mystery.” A laugh comes out and you shake your head at Sanji’s words before replying.
“I think I just like them to be outgoing.” You slowly and dramatically look Sanji up and down before connecting gazes with him. 
Before he has the chance to respond, a loud bang erupts from a part of the ship which catches both of your attention. Sanji sighs before looking at me.
“Things can never be calm around here can they?” A smile appears on your face as you nod.
“You go check that out, I think Zoro has had enough of me today, I’ll stay here with him.” You cock your head to the side, pointing at Buggy. Sanji nods and begins to walk away.
“Be safe sweets, holler if you need anything.” He looks back to say before continuing on. 
You look back at the clown, his eyes wide watching. Taking a few steps in his direction, nearing him before bending down to him.
“Don’t make me regret this.” You quietly say out before gently removing the gag in his mouth.
“Ahh toots, that feels so much better." He states while stretching his mouth and licking his lips.
“You have no idea how dry my mouth was getting, I was almost debating having a sip of sea water!” You roll my eyes before sitting beside the barrel he was on.
“I think that would not be beneficial cause then you’d have the opposite problem of having too much water.” You pause for a second before questioning. “Can you drown? I mean like now, as just a head? You have no lungs attached to you currently.”
“I’ve never tried, I would assume yes though.”
“Well, don’t do it then. I wouldn’t wanna have to be the one to save you, or maybe I’d send Sanji to do it for me.” 
“That blondie would let me die, I’d be a lot better, mentally and physically, if it was you.” He winks at you.
“Mmm, I think anyone of us would do it begrudgingly. For Nami.” He huffs beside you, it was a little funny as just a head. You could imagine his body’s chest moving along with it.
“What is with you and that cook anyway? It’s like you two wanna jump each other, I say just get a room and do it for the sake of me and the crew.” A snort comes out at his words.
“Buggy, I don’t think Sanji is actually attracted to me. Yes, he is good looking. However, he flirts with every woman he sees. In front of me too. Ya know, you two kinda remind me of each other in that regard.”
“Oh darling, I would treat you so much better than he ever could.” His words are filled with honey, sweet and dripping. You look at him, face in a ‘really?’ gaze.
“I don’t know, he is French. And you know there is a kiss named after them.” He scoffs at the retort.
“My head detaches, do I have to say more?” 
Your face drops in realization and your cheeks begin to heat up at his words.
“Slut.” The word flew out of your mouth before you could process it. He sits expressionless before breaking into laughter. Your hand raises to your forehead, half covering your face as you laugh. 
“I never admitted this but I think I like spending time with you more than Zoro.”
“I don’t know, it’s hard to compare his death threats to your sugary laugh.” He flirts again, 
You shake your head at his faux forwardness.
“If you do that again I’m going to flick your ear I swear to god.” He grins ear to ear like a cat luring in its prey, his face then slowly rests like he was actually thinking for once.
“Earlier, you called my nose cute.”
“Yes I did.”
“Did you actually mean it or were you poking fun like the others?” I glance at him, his tone serious and his eyes almost pleading.
“I meant it.” It’s silent, for the first time ever since you've met Buggy. It seems he takes a breath before speaking up.
"You know, you'd be a good second in command. I could pay you handsomely, far more than these schmucks are." 
"They aren't really paying me." His eyes bulge out a bit at the answer. 
"You won't realize it yet, considering how they have treated you however," You pause, choosing your words carefully. "They are the closest thing to family I have gotten in forever, meanwhile your crew feared you. That is all the swaying I need." 
"Its cause that Sanji is taller than me isn't it?" You scoff and crack up at his wit. Laughing to the point of your shoulders visibly shaking. 
"Oh yes, that is absolutely it." You respond teasing, laughter still in your voice. He shakes his head in disappointment. The pair of you continue to stare out as the sun goes down over the horizon, the warm orange creeping into an umber and then its usual royal blue. The stars peering down at the pair. 
"I think it might be time to head in." You say out loud, mostly to yourself while your hands rub over your arms to retain some heat. You could hear the buzzing begin of the mosquitos. 
"What doll, can't handle a little breeze?" You shake your head, you could begin to feel the tip of your fingers cool. 
"I've never been good with night time on the water." Buggy sighs beside me as I sit up.
"Let's head in then." He looks up at you, a small smile on his face. You pick him up, avoiding uncomfortable placement of your hands or a tight grip. His skin was warmer then expected, that was the stereotype though. The men being hot blood and bodied creatures.
"Where am I staying tonight? Barrel, in a window, random box?" 
"I think you're gonna stay with me." Buggy's eyebrows furrow in confusion. You begin to walk quickly to your small corner of the ship, descending down a small flight of stairs. The blue haired head clutched in your arms almost like the way you'd hold a newborn. 
The blue cot you were well acquainted with was already strung up, ready for you to rest in. You put Buggy up there in it before talking up to him. 
"I'm changing so don't try anything okay?" The jester was already too shocked and flustered to speak. Making a mental promise to himself not to break your trust. 
You take a bit of time before he sees your arms come over the side and lift yourself into the hammock. 
You settle yourself, pulling up the blanket that laid at the end over mostly you.
There's a few thuds down the stairs before Sanji appears before you both. 
"Ahh, just the gal I was looking for. How did babysitting go?" He asks, putting an arm over the side of the bed. Standing on a piece of board under you to boost himself up. 
"Still here cook boy." Buggy's voice bellows out, you smile at the cook while he gives you a confused glance. 
"I got worried that the mosquitos will affect his brain and stuff." You put on your best innocent smile and Sanji shakes his head. 
"You are the most mad pirate I think I've ever laid my eyes on." He gets a shrugged shoulders and rolled eyes back. 
"So, what was it that happened earlier?" You lean up to peer over the side at him. His face was always a comfort even when it felt the most safe. 
"Apparently Usopp knocked something over and then Luffy couldn't remember if it was Nami's or something else. You know him, if its not food related then he's not fully paying attention." You nod, agreeing with the blond. Sanji leans in close to you, looking over your shoulder at the head eavesdropping. 
"Are you going to be okay with him? Cause you know I can very much find a different spot for him." He says in a hushed tone to you, a small smile appears on your face. 
"I'll be okay Sanji, he's just a head. The most he could do is bite me and I think I'd wake up before he could cause real damage. However, if anything goes sour. You will be the first one I call to come help." You place your hand on his shoulder, rubbing it quickly before putting it back under the blanket. Sanji nods at you before he steps down. 
"Well sweet, you have a goodnight. Don't dream of me too much okay?" You wave to him and wish him a good night. 
"God he's annoying." Buggy says as you cuddle into your bed, eyes closed in a peaceful manner.
"Just look at it like this, you're in my bed. He's not." That shuts him up fast, you peek an eye open at him. He seems speechless and you let out a quiet giggle. 
"Please do tell me if you snore."
"I should be saying that to you, you can roll over or move. I'm just stuck here." 
You let out a mhmm, the luring sleepiness now very present in your body and brain. Buggy stares at you, blanket tucked up to your chin and face relaxed. 
He laid there and listened to you breathe for a bit. Making sure you were well into your slumber before muttering out. 
"Sleep well love."
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remi-thirsts · 18 days
Text
❝ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 ❞
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pairing: r. suna x fem!reader summary: Headcanons abt ur man who loves to record his fav girl ! content: very suggestive, established relationship, (p -> v), oral (f + m receiving), fingering, pet names (baby), cursing, filming (consensual for both parties), teasing (when is suna not teasing?), lmk if I missed anything. (kind of a soft smut release since i'm not confident)
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✧ bf!suna who whips out his phone anytime you wear anything that's tight around your curves.
"Okay Rin, I'm coming out tell me what you think of this dress." He lets out an uninterested hum, because you've been in the store for at least two hours. You need a new dress for your cousin's birthday party.
When you walk out and give him a little twirl he immediately exits whatever game he was playing to pass the time and opens the camera app.
"Holy shit, look at that ass baby. Mmm and those pretty tits."
"Can you focus for like one second?
✧ bf!suna who sends you horny videos throughout the day, because he misses you.
dookie butt 😝💖 [1 video attachment] look what u do to me
you -boyyyy i'm at work rn -but holy fuck... you moan so loud that i had to turn my volume down and i think i got looks from people
dookie butt 😝💖 so.... no titties ?
you ding ding ding ! you win blue balls
dookie butt 😝💖 at least send me some ass 😒
✧ bf!suna has a whole ALBUM on his phone of videos of you two fucking.
✧ bf!suna loves watching that one video where it's so shaky and you can barely tell what's going on, but he knows. He was eating you out so good, he had you back arching off of the bed, and your toes curling. You couldn't even hold the phone properly like he asked you too. Being the meanie he is he continued to harshly suck on your clit and hit your g-spot with his, long, experienced, rough fingers even after you came. You ended up squirting all over his face..
✧ bf!suna LOVES to record his dick bulging in your belly. That's how he knows he's hitting it good.
✧ bf!suna comes up with all these ridiculous scenarios/roleplays that you always seem to agree to do with him. He records ALL of them.
✧ bf!suna saves every single nude you send him, because despite what you say he thinks you're beautiful all day everyday.
✧ bf!suna sends you Twitter links asking if you wanna recreate them. Anytime he watches them he can only think about you and himself.
✧ bf!suna has no shame and will watch your homemade videos even with his friends around.
"Damn, Rin whatever yer watching must be really interestin'!" Atsumu spits sarcasm at the EJP middle blocker.
"Way more interesting than you by a long shot." Suna calmly replies which pisses his friend off even more. The blond snatches Suna's phone. Only to hand it back seconds later with a flushed face, "Gosh yer a pervert, Sunarin, a pervert."
✧ bf!suna is like a photographer when you get a new lingerie set. He'll ask you to make different poses and stand at different angles so he can get "the best possible picture"
✧ bf!suna sends you audios of him moaning because he knows you love it.
dookie butt 😝💖 [1 audio attachment] :3
you RIN. I'M MELTING WTF U SOUND SO HOT
dookie butt 😝💖 u should send something back to show ur appreciation
you 🫡
✧ bf!suna never posts or shares your videos unless you ask him too, and the ones he does share with the internet are the ones where no one can see your faces.
✧ bf!suna all in all loves you and your beauty. Every single video he's recorded is proof of that. When you watch them, you notice the little things, like how he'll prop up a pillow for you, or how he'll quietly ask if it's okay for him to keep going and whatnot. Many would think that he's just horny all the time and doesn't care about you, but he does care. Way more than haters will realize.
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©𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!
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