#didn't really learn much else new

[intermundia]

in the 'master and apprentice' behind the scenes short, dave filoni stresses that it was george lucas at the clone wars planning meeting who said "anakin had a padawan," and essentially gave the order for ahsoka to exist. i think filoni gets a lot of flak for her being his OC, and while that ended up imho being true, it is interesting to me that it was lucas who had the original vision for how the clone wars cartoon would work. we know that he made adjustments to anakin's characterization to make him more of a traditional action hero, and then he gave the kids an audience surrogate so they could tag along with him. it was the best way to make a show about the clone wars and lucas also probably knew from a merchandising perspective, anakin's padawan being a spunky teenage girl would be successful with the kids (despite the hate that she got at the beginning from older fans). it's interesting to know more about her genesis, in light of what she became, how complete her story is; she's one of the most developed star wars characters at this point. while i (a known tragedy enjoyer) am frustrated at how her story currently dangles off into an uncertain future, so we don't truly understand her fate, i can only hope that it gets tied off well with this show. it's impressive to consider how important she became, for originally just being part of a footnote (per lucas) to anakin's story.

#ahsoka #interesting little short #wish it were longer #didn't really learn much else new

[thecrenellations]

Is the lymond chronicles something I can get into if I know little of history and do not speak many romance languages?

Yes! I mean, it depends on your reading preferences and how you feel about being confused, but I certainly did!

That's my short answer! If you give them a try, I hope you find the series worth it, and I believe that what you like in a story will matter more than what you do or don't know going in.

My much longer answer, about my reading experience, is ....

In my case, I knew the names of monarchs and had a vague familiarity with the setting of the first book (Tudor/1540s Scotland and England). I speak a useful amount of French and a tiny bit of Spanish. Comparing experiences with friends, French was an especially helpful language to have, but I feel confident saying that I would have loved these books without it.

The thing about The Game of Kings (book 1) is that it’s just confusing. Dorothy Dunnett wastes no time in throwing political intrigue, multilingual references, and many characters at you. But even if you’re an expert in the history and in (modern and archaic) English, French, Latin, Spanish, Scots, and a little bit of Italian and German, you are faced with a protagonist who’s running back and forth across the border and interfering with that history … while guarding his goals and motives, explaining nothing about his past, and constantly quoting poetry from the personal library of a mind he doesn’t want to let anyone inside. Most of the people he meets don’t understand him, either.

For me, it was so rewarding when I finally started to learn what was happening and who he is, and after that the ride truly began…

I did not look up many references or translations and just kinda went with it. I was enjoying myself enough that I didn’t mind that so much was going over my head (especially if it was coming out of Lymond’s mouth), and within a few chapters I’d gotten invested in one of the characters (Christian!) and was entranced by a recurring joke/element. By the second section (let’s say … 175 pages in …), I was hooked, obsessed with a second character (Will!), interested in most of the rest, and having a great time.

There’s a character list in non-audio editions (the David Monteath audiobooks are very good, though), and companion books exist with translations/sources for many of the references. There are also various online recaps and chapter-by-chapter discussions. Looking things up yourself as you go along can reduce confusion, but be warned that many of the characters are versions of real people, so you may learn more than you want to know, such as when they die. 470-year-old spoilers, but still.

For me, the characters (complexity, parallels, relationships) and writing (playfulness, beauty, INCREDIBLE use of perspective and unreliable narration) are what make the books so good. They reward rereading, so, when/if you return, you’ll have another chance to go down some reference rabbit holes, and even if you don’t, you will understand much more.

The second book is generally agreed to be easier to understand! Also, there are elephants.

Perhaps more important than knowledge of history and languages is the reader's tolerance for …

angst. pain. agony. devastating reminders of prior angst and pain and agony

on the flipside, truly ridiculous antics, hijinks, and capers

many, many kinds of traumatic/potentially triggering content

bias/bigotry that shows up in characters’ perspectives and in general (not that newer media is free of this, but these books are from the 1960s and 70s, for context)

occasional elements that stretch the definition of historical fiction

revelations about your favorite authors’ influences (this was fun)

excessive reference to and description of Lymond’s beauty

half? a third? a large amount of the cast being in love with Lymond. This made for way more queer text than I knew to expect, which was great, but also … oh my god everyone is in love with him

the most bantering banter to ever banter, mostly, but certainly not entirely, courtesy of Lymond

Thanks for asking! If any of this raises more questions, ask again!

related: my lymond recs tag. There are mild and out-of-context spoilers, but these posts all sum up something about the series. :)

#lymond #lymond recs #questions #if anyone who sees this wants to chime in ... please do! #i love that so many people bring historical knowledge to the series/fandom #and/or end up diving into research because of it #i did not! history interests me but i really didn't know much about this era #so i eat that context right up #i also tend to have a very long wallowing-in-the-text phase when i find a new thing i love #so i'm still over here rereading multiple books at once because reading something else would mean reading something else! #eventually i'll probably branch out more than i have (a little bit of reading up on places/ people/ elements i want to draw) #much to learn as always #re: the language list ... there are probably more that i forgot #even in GoK #re: everyone being in love with Lymond ... that's probably not the most accurate way to put it but i was going for a tone...

[scarletfasinera]

The way grown adults in their twenties still talk about how they didn't learn about x historical event or y horrific thing the US did back when they were in highschool as if it's any excuse for their willful ignorance is like actually so pathetic. It's four years of schooling that you had a decade ago of course you didn't learn every single thing in the world, no one does in any school in any country. You're not special. It's time to grow up and make the effort to learn things for yourself, You're Not In Highschool Anymore

#txt #like it's always “I didn't learn xyz in school” and “the US education system sucks” girl you're 25. #Literally stop talking about highschool. #If you're not going to make the effort at least own up to it instead of making excuses and getting defensive #Like all of these people spend so much time complaining about what the US didn't teach them when they were a CHILD #when they could be spending that time. Googling? Reading? Asking their peers questions? #This is the information age. There is literally no excuse #when most of these people are on the computer actively using the internet for hours upon hours every day #or their phone or tablet or whatever else #making post after post on social media. But literally only getting their news from Twitter or Tumblr? Insane. #Do some reading yourself. #Idk check out library books. Your library needs the foot traffic anyway. #Ask questions on Reddit. There's plenty of people who actually are totally interested in answering your questions in good faith. #Ask questions on TUMBLR even. I know there's plenty of people HERE who are willing to answer questions in good faith. #Your peers are a great respurce to utilize for learning about Literally Anything! #Not that everyone knows everything. But it's still awesome to ask your peers questions and discuss things with them! #Like it's actually a great way to learn new things! It's kind of ONE of the big reasons things are taught in whole classes of people! #I can't stress enough! OP makes a post it is ok to ask them a question about it or ask about further reading or ask for a source! #As long as you're asking in good faith because you want to learn! It's not a bad thing to do! #If OP gets really upset and nasty about the question—that's not cool BUT you can't really blame them. #If they are a victim of whatever their post is about it's very frustrating for them and moreso that they feel they have to TEACH people #about it. So give people some grace in that regard. Not everyone will have perfect responses 24/7. #For the most part people will be able to recognise and understand the genuine desire to learn about something and help and will be at LEAST #willing to point you in a direction. Even if it's just a Subreddit or another tumblr acc or something #Like I cannot stress enough. You can do something to change your “lack of education” about subjects by Educating Yourself #and Asking. Questions. And. Talking. To. Your. Peers. About. Things. #There's a hobbyist for everything. There's one autistic guy with a special interest out there that has all the answers to your questions #There is also like. News that isn't state-sponsered. But use critical thinking and look into sources.

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

IGNORE ME I'M SORRY I KEEP TALKING ABT IT i'm just so not used to my cat not being around and it kinda kills me inside to not hear him walking around or meowing or sleeping at the bottom of the staircase anymore... it used to be like a nightly routine where i'd go downstairs and make myself a drink and give him some water and now i just. don't even wanna go down there anymore.

#you really underestimate how different things will be when they're gone. 18 years of learning his new routines and favorite places to nap #and it's just all. gone. not like i didn't experience it but just the fact that i will never experience it with him again... it's so hard #& that's like the last vestige of my childhood gone too. i mean i got my current dog when i was around 13/14 and she's gettin' up there too #so it's just like. my life dropped out from under me and i'm desperately clinging to what is left but there's not much #everything feels so hollow and i don't know hoe to vocalize that because my family is always trying so hard to heal and i don't want to #make their grief process any harder by accidentally awakening the same latent feelings in them. or whatever #i just miss him so so much but i know we made the right choice. he was old and we had a lot of good years together and we saved him from #spending his last few days in suffering by ending his pain early and offering him as much love and warmth and comfort as we could #and i know he appreaciated it and i know he loves us all and like that's not the part i have issue with #it's just. his lack of presence. i don't deny that his ghost may be around (my famjly is very spiritual like that and i have heard him) but #physically he's gone forever except for chunks of his fur and whatever else is laying around #loss is just so fucking unfair because it's completely understandable and makes total sense but it will never ever be unable to be felt... #idk. i'm just exhausted and sad and i miss my little guy. hell i still miss my dog and that happened like 5 years ago #love never goes away it just changes shaoe and makes you really really sad and kinda wanna kill youself but that would make THEM sad #so. you gotta live. you gotta be brave.

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

My face got sunburned enough today that when I scratch an itch my fingers leave a white line for like three minutes afterwards 😬

#kee speaks #i also tired this has been such a long week #i only just got home like twenty minutes ago and it's 10 PM now #and i have to be up to go get parts at 8 AM and then go jump in a tractor #i feel like I'm officially reaching my fulltime farmer era #the last five years we've had enough people to run the farm side of things that I've been the designated shop person #so i was always working on welding projects or being the Go-For for everyone else #and i was really only involved during harvest time when its all hands on deck #but we're down a person this year so I'm learning how to run the planting equipment which is a new experience for me #i haven't even ridden along on this equipment since i was a kid and technology has changed by leaps and bounds since then #so it's a little intimidating #but it also means i dont get 9-5 Mon-Fri weeks anymore #more like 730A-10P Mon-Sat #which means not much time for viddy games :c #i was so excited that Survivor got pushed back so that it didnt release while i was in school #but now that its out im like. idk when I'll get to play #i have an appointment in the city next week though so I'll be able to pick it up at least #and have it for a rainy day #oh but also rainy days means my basement leaks AARRGGHH #BEING AN ADULT SUCKS AND I DIDN'T SIGN UP FOR THIS

[zombiebaratiddies]

One thing that really saddens me is when people belittle someone's intelligence due to continuously mispronouncing a word or saying it differently, or not understanding a reference to something because they've never heard of or encountered the material before despite it being well-known or "something everyone knows".

What's the phrase... "are you serious?" or "you're joking" or continuing the exclamation of appallment/surprise with "well you probably say [this] too or do [this] because of it" in a slightly teasing manner is something that... is very not appreciated. I wish people met someone not knowing "common knowledge" with "oh, what do you want to know about it? I can tell you what I know" instead of... ridicule or teasing belittlement of their intelligence.

#if you are met with it i do encourage you to speak up and say 'hey i don't really appreciate you treating me that way. #even if you were joking it still hurt my feelings. please don't do that in the future with me' #it's... i feel this is very much a neurodivergent experience to have #very much for me at least. i had all of the resources to watch all of the films 'everyone else watched' #but i was never interested enough in them to sit down and watch them or even put them on in the background #i kinda always get grilled for pronouncing iron as it's spelled and agate as ah-gah-tay since my brain processes words in parts mostly #especially new ones as jp is one of my early processed languages and it's very syllable-based #it's just. the little things that i wish i didn't get belittled over #i know i'm smart and intelligent and have the ability to learn and form opinions on complex topics #i'm just also very impressionable and don't know the things most americans are supposed to know i guess because i was busy watching anime #ahhh. #fine to reblog #the neurodivergent experience #somewhat of a vent #zombie murmurs

[pibsboots]

I've always had chronic fatigue. I remember being twelve, and an adult mentioned how I couldn't possibly know how tired they felt because adulthood brought levels of exhaustion I couldn't imagine. I thought about that for days in fear, because I couldn't remember the last time I didn't feel tired.

Eventually I came to terms with the fact that I was just tired, and I couldn't do as many things as everyone else. People called me lazy, and I knew that wasn't true, but there's only so many times you can say "I'm tired" before people think it's an excuse. I don't blame them. When a teenager does 20 hours of extracurriculars every week and only says "I'm too tired" when you ask them to do the dishes, it's natural to think it's an excuse. At some point, I started to think the same thing.

It didn't matter that I could barely sit up. It was probably all in my head, and if I really wanted to, I could do it.

When I learned the name for it, chronic fatigue, I thought wow, people that have that must be miserable, because I am always tired and I cannot imagine what it would feel like if it were worse.

Spoiler alert, if you've been tired for a decade, it's probably chronic fatigue.

Once I figured that out though, I thought of my energy as the same as everyone else's, just smaller in quantity. And that might be true for some people, but I've figured out recently that it absolutely isn't true for me.

I used to be like wow I have so much energy today I can do this whole list for sure! And then I'd do the dishes and have to lay down for 2 hours. Then I'd think I must gave misjudged that, I didn't have as much energy as I thought.

But the thing is - I did have enough energy for more tasks, I just didn't go about them properly.

With chronic fatigue, your maximum energy is obviously much smaller than the average person's. Doing the dishes for you might use up the same percentage of energy that it takes to do all the daily chores for someone else.

If someone without chronic fatigue was to do all the daily chores, they would take breaks. Because otherwise, they're sprinting a marathon for no reason and it would take way more energy than necessary. We have to do the same.

Put the cups in the dishwasher, take a break. Put the bowls in, take a break. So on and so forth. This may mean taking breaks every 2-5 minutes but afterwards, you get to not feel like you've run a marathon while carrying 4 people on your back.

Today, I had a moderate amount of energy. Under my old system of go till you drop, I probably could have done most of the dishes and wiped off the counter and then been dead to the world for the rest of the day.

Under the new system, I scooped litter boxes, cleaned out the fridge, took the trash out, cleaned the stove, and wiped off the counter and did all the dishes. And after all that, I still had it in me to make a simple dinner, unload the dishwasher, and tidy the kitchen.

It was complete and utter insanity. Just because I sat down whenever I felt myself getting more tired than I already was.

All this to say, take fucking breaks. It's time to unlearn the ceaseless productivity bullshit that capitalism has shoved down our throats. Its actively counterproductive. Just sit down. Drink some water. Rest your body when it needs to rest.

There will still be days where there is nothing to do but rest, and days where half a load of dishes is absolutely the most I can do. But this method has really helped me minimize those, which is so incredibly relieving.

#chronic illness #chronic fatigue #chronic pain

[lipglossboy]

My mom when Bob was sent down to turn the electricity back on in the lab - "I feel sick. I don't want anything to happen to Bob. This show is sick… I mean if they kill Bob."

She keeps picking the exact right characters to worry about 😭

#Season 2 is really good imo but I'm excited for her reaction to season 4 #She's... She'll be stressed for sure but also I'm curious about how she'll feel about the new characters #Ugh I just hate the whole Soviet Union plotline it drags on way too much for me #Like it goes in circles and so many moments feel like a waste of time for something that isn't even fun? #Like if we're gonna drag something out let's drag out the Hawkins hijinks #Follow Jason's endeavors. Learn more about his backstory and what the people of Hawkins are thinking right now #Would rather that over the whole weirdness with Yuri and whatever else #I wonder if my mom will be confused about will being in love with Mike or if she'll get it #She's really not good at TV stuff lol but I think it would be funny if even she picked up on that after the whole debacle #(I'm of the opinion that it was extremely obvious that he's in love with Mike and it didn't need to be said #Bc it makes sense for his character and not everything needs to be spoonfed to you) #But my mom also suspected max for the whole rotting crops thing #And thought the purpose of showing kids ostracizing will was to show us that they know there's something wrong with him sjdjdjd #So I'd be more surprised if she got it than if she didn't #Pleasantly surprised #Certain things she does well with #I'm maybe being too harsh #But I do keep needing to tell her when something is a flashback #We'll seeeee #My prediction for how she will respond to Eddie's lunch table behavior: “what the fuck? Oh no”

[headspace-hotel]

I saw this book entitled "Plants Have So Much to Give Us, All We Have to Do is Ask" by Mary Siisip Genuisz and i thought oh I HAVE to read that. The author is Anishinaabe and the book is all about Anishinaabe teachings of the ways of the plants.

Going from the idiotic, Eurocentric, doomerist colonialism apologia of that "Cambridge companion to the anthropocene" book, to the clarity and reasonableness of THIS book, is giving me whiplash just about.

I read like 130 pages without even realizing, I couldn't stop! What a treasure trove of knowledge of the ways of the plants!

Most of them are not my plants, since it is a different ecosystem entirely (which gives me a really strikingly lonely feeling? I didn't know I had developed such a kinship with my plants!) but the knowledge of symbiosis as permeating all things including humans—similar to what Weeds, Guardians of the Soil called "Nature's Togetherness Law"—is exactly what we need more of, exactly what we need to teach and promote to others, exactly what we need to heal our planet.

She has a lot of really interesting information on how knowledge is created and passed down in cultures that use oral tradition. The stories and teachings she includes are a mix of those directly passed down by her teacher through a very old heritage of knowledge holders, stories with a newer origin, and a couple that have an unknown origin and (I think?) may not even be "authentically" Native American at all, but that she found to be truthful or useful in some way. She likes many "introduced" plants and is fascinated by their stories and how they came here. (She even says that Kudzu would not be invasive if we understood its virtues and used it the way the Chinese always have, which is exactly what I've been saying!!!)

She seems a bit on the chaotic end of the spectrum in regards to tradition, even though she takes tradition very seriously—she says the way the knowledge of medicinal and otherwise useful plants has been built, is that a medicine person's responsibility is not simply to pass along teachings, but to test and elaborate upon the existing ones. It is a lot similar to the scientific method, I would call it a scientific method. Her way of seeing it really made me understand the aliveness of tradition and how there is opportunity, even necessity, for new traditions based upon new ecological relationships and new cultural connections to the land.

I was gut punched on page 15 when she says that we have to be careful to take care of the Earth and all its creatures, because if human civilization destroys the biosphere the rocks and winds will be left all alone to grieve for us.

What a striking contrast to the sad, cruel ideas in the Cambridge companion of the Anthropocene, where humans are some kind of disease upon the Earth that oppresses and "colonizes" everything else...!...The Earth would GRIEVE for us!

We are not separate from every other thing. We have to learn this. If I can pass along these ideas to y'all through my silly little posts, I will have lived well.

#symbiosis #the ways of the plants #you are a caretaker #you are not separate from every other thing #indigenous literature #books

[inkskinned]

i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.

i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.

what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.

so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.

and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.

and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.

#does this even MAKE SENSE!!!!! #writeblr #btw what im trying to express in that first sentence is EXPLICITLY the feeling of logging off therapy to immediately go back to work #like :) haha!

[chuusmuts]

imagine kabukimono being needy

smut(?) afab reader (mentioned of tight walls), needy kabukimono, male masturbation, corruption (kabukimono).not proofread.

you can see this as part two of kabukimono finding out you lactate (where he found out about sex/ read a book about it) or another version of innocent kabukimono going wild. kinda want to make this a series, ngl.

when he opened the door to your room, he expected you to be in your room, but he was greeted with silence. he suddenly hit the realization that you were supposedly out to buy some grocery. this scent in your room, it's your scent. he missed it so much, he missed your scent, he missed you. you were just here a few minutes ago, how could he has had miss you so bad already?

he sighed, realising you would be gone for a while. he hated when you were away, even if it was only for a little bit. he needed you here with him, always. he sat down on the floor near the door, resting his head against it. his heart raced at the thought of being alone, it reminded him when he was being thrown away. he wanted to be with you, hold you, touch you, kiss you. but most importantly, he wanted to be held by you. he didn't know what else to do but wait for you to come back home. he tried to calm himself down, he couldn't let his emotions control him.

his eyes roamed all over your room as he missed your presence, and eventually, his gaze fell on a book beside your bed. out of curiosity, he got up and took a look at the book. a book about... oral and sex? what even is that? he'd never heard of it. the cover of the book was very erotic, it's a picture of a man pounding himself into a woman's pussy. since he was an innocent puppet, he was clueless about all of this, but at the same time, he felt like getting to know about this thing called 'oral' and 'sex'.

kabukimono looked at the book with his eyes widened in confusion. he had no idea what oral and sex meant, he didn't even know what a vagina was. out of curiousity, he grabbed the book and flipped through it, feeling both intrigued and uncomfortable. he felt his face heat up as he read through the pages, it was all just too much for him to handle. he started to feel nervous, unsure of whether he should keep reading or not. nevertheless, he continued to read, trying to make sense of everything he saw and read as he was still puzzle about it.

ultimately, he stopped at a page whereas the top of it was written 'how to pleasure yourself when you're missing them'. wasn't that... what he's feeling right now? he missed you so much he felt like dying. but the question was, what's this thing called 'pleasure'? he read this thing so-called masturbation and as he read further, he began to feel a stirring in his lower region. this was all so new to him, yet he found himself wanting to learn more, his inquisitiveness got the better out of him. he had no idea where he was going with this, but he felt like he needed to do something, something toward his cock. should he follow the instructions and actually try to do it?

his hands trembled as he read the next paragraph, which explained how to perform a self-handjob. he felt his cheeks turn red as he read as he felt embarrassed and nervous. he wondered if it was normal for people to masturbate. the fact that he was reading and thinking about doing it made him feel dirty, but he wanted to know if it would really make him feel better or if it would help him forget about his loneliness. glancing down at his crotch, he saw how his cock was starting to become erect. this was all so strange and foreign to him since he'd never experienced this, but he decided to give it a shot. he took off his boxer and noticed the tip of it was already leaking with precum; a clear, colorless, viscous fluid that is emitted from the urethra of the penis during sexual arousal, was what it was written in the book. placing one hand on his cock, he gently stroked it, trying to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do.

step one, find your stroke. it said in the book, to get things started, use your hand to find a rhythm you love. and so, he continued stroking his cock in a slow pace. the longer he stroked it, the more he felt like groaning as his breathing got heavy. he must has had found the rhythm he loved. as he masturbated himself, his gaze fell on your picture that was hanging on the wall, and it only aroused him more. his heart pounded even faster as he unconsciously started to call out your name, groaning and moaning. it felt so good, so amazing that he began to visualize you were the one who was giving him the handjob. he imagined your voice, your soft touch, your gentle caresses, and the way you'd look at him with your cute and gentle smile.

the sensation was incredible, unlike anything he'd ever experienced. he felt like he was melting inside as his body shivered with pleasure. he kept stroking faster and harder, not realizing how much he was moving his hips and how loud he was becoming. the sound of his voice filled with need and desire grew louder and louder, filling the silent room. he called out your name, begging for you to return and hold him, to touch him, to make him feel good. he was lost in the moment, completely unaware of the world around him. he was only focused on the pleasure he was feeling and the fact that he needed you to be there with him.

he continued to follow the instructions as he next rubbed and squeezed his balls. they were (not) surprisingly very sensitive to him and packed with nerve endings. he rubbed them gently with one hand while the other maintained a stroke on his penis. at last, he placed the book aside when he felt he could masturbate himself without guidance.

at one point, he could barely breathe properly, and his whole body tense and started shaking. "ngh... ah... y/n..." he threw his head back and opened his mouth wide as he kept moaning, tears welling up in his eyes, feeling the urge to cum. "need you so bad... i miss y– ngh..." his bangs sticked to his forehead and his neck was shining, glistening as a bead of sweat rolled down while he speeded up the pace and kept squeezing his balls. "w– wanna fuck you... fuck..."

he could feel the muscles in his pelvis tighten and contract as he neared his climax. his cock throbbed and pulsed against his palm, the sensations growing stronger and more intense. he could feel his entire body shake as a stream of precum dripped down the length of his cock. his breathing became ragged and uneven, and his heart raced as he struggled to maintain control. he couldn't hold it in anymore, and finally, he screamed your name, his voice echoing throughout the room, his body convulsing and twitching. he came hard, his cock pulsing and spurting with a hot, sticky fluid.

the hot liquid dripped from his tip onto his thighs, pooling the sheet beneath him. the feeling of cumming was so good, but it wasn't nowhere near enough. oh, how he badly wished it was you who made him cum. he collapsed on the bed, smelling your sweet scent, and all he could think was having your tight walls around his cock as he fuck you dumb. he couldn't wait till you come back to relieve his needs.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #scaramouche imagines #kabukimono imagines #kunikuzushi imagines #wanderer imagines #scaramouche x reader #kabukimono x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #kabukimono x y/n #kunikuzushi x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x y/n #kabukimono x you #kunikuzushi x you #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you #kabukimono smut #kunikuzushi smut #wanderer smut #scaramouche smut #scara #kabukimono #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #wanderer

[queenie-the-court-jester]

pucker up buttercup

Yandere florist x reader

Tw: mentions of physical abuse in sexual settings, implied drugging and somnophilia, stalking, implied possessive behavior and controlling nature, mildly nsfw. Not proofread 🌺

🌷Benny was the quiet kid of your school. You didn't know much about him, except he was a good student and apart of the gardening club. That was all, but Benny? Oh he knew you very well..

🌷you were stunning. You had such amazing hair that he wanted to play with every night before going to sleep, those stunning beautiful eyes that always ghosted over his form in the cafeteria, and your voice that always managed to make him rock hard down there

🌷 recently your family had gotten a wide assortment of flowers for an event. Thinking they were pretty, you asked for the florists name or any social they might have. They handed you a card with the info, and with that you looked up the account on Instagram.

🌷 scrolling through their posts you found a familiar face you'd see every day in the school halls. What was his name again? Benjamin? Beanie? No.. oh yeah! Benny! You didnt know he had such a good eye for aesthetics, especially flower arrangements. But that has to be expected since he spends all his time gardening

🌷the next time you saw him, you walked right up to his table on campus grounds. A bit far from the other outside lunch areas. He froze when he saw a familiar pair of shoes, looking up at you slowly with those big blue eyes

"you're a florist right?"

"y-yes..?"

"how much for a dozen roses and half a dozen tulips?"

🌷you became a regular after that. He'd wait anxiously every day for you in the plant nursery after school. He always gave you such cheap prices, claiming you were his friend and he only did favors for them. You thought he was sweet, so when you heard rumors about him being caught sneaking around the girls locker rooms and stalking a classmate? You shrugged it off,most likely empty gossip

🌷if only you paid attention to the red flags sooner.. you would have realized Benny's real nature. When he asked you out prom night, you agreed, he was sweet and you weren't seeing anyone at the moment. Who knew, maybe this would be the start of a beautiful relationship?

Pros with Benny:

🌹atleast he's a very generous lover. Spoiling you with what he could afford, since he came from humble beginnings he's always wise with the money you both have

🌹 he's completely devoted to you! Never looking at anyone else with love or lust, always worshipping you both in bed and outside it

🌹you learn new things. Like natural remedies, plants and their names, their usefulness to make nearly everything. Even drugs (He's vegan.)

🌹he wants to settle down and raise a family with you as soon as you graduate college! He gets tipsy and love drunk thinking about it too much. He'd make an excellent father. Kind of.

The cons:

🥀 randomly, he'll get very aggressive in bed. Biting you till your skin bleeds, slapping your chest and ass, degrading you with the most vilest words. Not to mention he seems to really like choking you till you almost pass out

🥀he doesn't know how to take no for an answer, he'll go scarily quiet and his eyes will turn dull. A complete contrast to how he usually is. Surely a little intimidation will make you change your mind no?

🥀 he's possessive with your time and love. If he ever notices you staring at anyone a little too long, who isn't friends or family he knows of, you bet there'll be missing person posters by the end of the week

🥀he forbids you from going into the basement. Saying it's his private nursery and you should respect his privacy, even if he doesn't respect yours

🥀 randomly you'll feel sleepy after Eating anything he makes you, growing drowsy and the last thing you can remember is feeling clammy hands hastily unbutton your pants and shirt

#yandere x reader #ocs #queenie ocs #queenie writes #yandere x darling #yandere #yandere male #yandere male x reader #male yandere #Yandere florist #Yandere florist x reader #Benny the florist #Yandere oc #Yandere oc x reader #yandere drabble #Yandere headcanons #male yandere x reader

[huskersbooze]

Who's in Control?

Alastor x Reader

| Part 1(here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Summary : You sold your soul to Alastor and had no idea how big of a deal this was. Until recently, you finally learn what it means, and realize all that Alastor had been doing was just a lie.. or was it?

Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader, Huskerdust? (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)

Warnings : swear words

Additional Tags : Angst, miscommunication, misunderstandings, Alastor actually being nice?!, no use of (Y/n)

Ib : Who's in Control By Set It Off

Word count : 1.8k

"Good morning, dear."

"Morning, Al." You reach the lobby and take a seat on the floor next to Alastor's chair.

"How was your sleep, darling?"

"It was good! And yours?"

"Aha, hilarious, really. You know I don't sleep, my dear." He places a hand on your head and gives your hair a ruffle. "You really do know how to brighten my day."

The rest of the team reaches the lobby, and you all gather around for your daily dose of trust exercises.

-----

You and Alastor had been growing closer and closer ever since your arrival at the hotel. There was no doubt that he was your favourite person there.

And, well, for Alastor, he never wanted to admit it, but everyone in the hotel could tell, and even he was aware.

He was growing a soft-spot for you.

It was never supposed to be this way. He was never meant to grow attached. It just somehow happened, and that was that.

Everything between you two was going great. Except for that one little issue that bothered Alastor.. but you didn’t have to know. He never tried to abuse any of that power when he asked for your soul. He never thought of doing anything to you.

But there comes a time in every relationship where a lie can ruin it all.

“Hey, sugar. How ya’ doin’?” Angel Dust leans by the bar counter, greeting you as usual.

“I'm doing decent. Husk and I were just talking about you.”

“We were fuckin’ not!” You watch as the cat's ears twitch, the drink he was originally pouring tipping over.

“Oh, really? No need ta’ lie Husky~” You laugh at Angel's teasing, which makes Husk let out a low growl. “At least I don't gawk over a certain demon so obviously.”

“Hey! Are you talking about me and Al?”

“Who else would he be talkin’ about?” Angel tilts his head to the side, giving you a knowing glare. “Ya’ can't even deny it.”

“Al and I are just friends.”

“Kid, Angel's right.” The cat can only do so much but sigh. “You don't know him as well as I do. He treats you differently.”

“Still, we're just friends-”

“The Radio Demon doesn't do ‘friends’, kid.”

“Yeah, well, he owns my soul. Of course he'd treat me differently.”

The way it so simply came out of your mouth like it wasn't some big deal. Both Husker and Angel Dust froze in place, staring at you wide-eyed.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“What.. what did you just say?” The spider can hardly comprehend the news you'd just dropped.

“He owns my soul..?”

“Kid. What the actual fuck?!”

“What the fuck did he do to you?! Ya’ alright?! Are you hurt?”

You watch as the two demons skim your body up and down, firing questions at you, checking up to make sure you weren't hurt.

But you were confused.

“What's going on? Why are you guys suddenly acting so strange?”

“Wh- Why did you sell ya’ soul to him?!”

“Fuck I knew he was up to no good!”

“He told me by selling my soul to him he'd protect me from everything and anything at all cost. I didn't see a reason to decline?” You reply to Angel's question, ignoring Husk as he mutters about himself being correct. “I got nothing to lose.”

“Ya’ got everything to lose, shitass.” You hear his voice start to crack slightly as you realise tears welling up in his eyes.

“Angel?! Hey, what's wrong?”

“Damn, kid. You really don't know shit, huh?”

“About..?”

“What it means to sell your soul.”

“I know what it means, Al said-”

“Forget that fucker.” Husk practically spits out his name. “D'you know why I work here at the bar?”

“Because you like your job..?”

“No. It’s because I was forced by the person I sold my soul to.”

“Who..?”

“Hell, kid.. you really can't take a hint?”

And just like that, he says one more name, and your whole world comes tumbling down on you.

He didn't actually care for you, he was just shaping you in case you came to use.

He didn't actually enjoy your company, he was just watching you to make sure you were obedient.

He didn't actually mean any of the things he said. He was just trying to manipulate you.

And you were so damn lost. So damn lost as to whether the control and power you thought you had, really belonged to you.

“Valentino is an overlord.. and he's your boss?”

“Yup.” Angel nods.

“And he owns your soul like Al owns Husk’s?”

“Exactly.” Husk replies.

“And there's no escaping this contract..?”

“No.” The two reply together.

“Fuck.”

-----

“Greetings, my dear! How are you on this fine morning?” The static sounds from Alastor's usual seat at the lobby where you all gather every morning.

There's that usual smile etched on his face, which, you used to believe looked genuine when he was talking to you, but it seemed that wasn't the case.

“Hey, Husk. Hey, Angel.” You greet the two on the couch, completely passing by Alastor and ignoring his whole existence. “Mind if I sit?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Angel scoots over and makes space for you to squeeze between Husk and himself. “Ya’ look like hell.”

“You alright, kid?”

“Couldn't sleep much last night, but I'm fine.” You reassure them.

The rest of the crew were a bit startled at your display, knowing well that you refused to not sit by Alastor's chair, normally.

And here you were, ignoring him completely like he was no longer relevant, and hanging with the other two demons.

“Okay.. what an interesting way to start the morning!” Charlie tries to break the ice.

Everyone turns their attention towards her.

Everyone but Alastor.

He was practically fuming with rage, anger, irritation, but yet, a tiny bit of worry.

How dare you ignore the Radio Demon like he was some piece of useless trash?

But then again.. why were you suddenly acting so cold and distant? What did he do wrong?

He couldn't help but focus his attention on you throughout the entire day, but you didn't even spare him a single glance.

Needless to say, you felt a knock on your door that night.

“Darling, how wonderful to see you! Wonderful, really. Mind if I come in?”

“A little. What do you need, Alastor?” You stand at the door frame, hand still on the door handle, prepared to slam the door in case anything happens.

Meanwhile, Alastor was pissed. You had never rejected inviting him in for late night chatting, in fact, you never rejected anything from him.

“It's nothing, really. I just hoped to have a friendly little chat with you, if that's alright?” Alastor leans down to your level, tilting his head and giving you his usual smile he reserved for you, and you only.

“A bit busy. Maybe next time.” You attempt to close the door, but a hand swoops in and, damn, was he strong.

“Dear, what seems to be the issue?”

“I’m really busy, Alastor.” You sigh. His ears twitch at the name. Where were all his sweet little nicknames? Why were you only referring to him by his full name?

“Clearly, something is wrong, and I ought to find out what I had done to deserve such treatment.” He states, making himself welcome in your room. “Talk to me, darling.”

“Oh enough with the pet names, I’m not your fucking pet.” You roll your eyes, closing the door behind you to make sure no one stumbles upon your little predicament.

Alastor stiffens, then laughs.

“Whatever are you talking about, dear? Of course you’re not my pet.”

“The damn contract says otherwise..” You watch as Alastor shifts uncomfortably, his back still facing you. “I should’ve known you just wanted another soul. Fuck you, Alastor.”

You continue on about how you never should’ve trusted him, and how you finally knew about everything so there was no point in him pretending to tolerate you.

Alastor, however, could barely process anything you were saying. He could hear his own static in his own head, and it was growing louder and louder.

What the fuck was happening? How did you know? What did he ever do? Where did he go wrong..?

“Darling, please.. You don’t understand-” The radio filter in his voice was off, his actual voice coming out as a soft plea.

Taken aback, you stopped talking. Alastor turned to face you, smile still etched high and proud, but his eyes looked like he was about to break.

“Alastor..” You murmur. “I just don’t think I can trust you anymore. I’m sorry.”

“When have I ever used any of that power on you?!” Alastor snaps, eyes darting all over the place, trying to find out what to do to fix all this. “I’ve been nothing but nice! I.. I helped you when you were in trouble! I did nothing to hurt you..”

You watch as Alastor starts losing his usual composure, having it slowly drifting away.. It was heartbreaking seeing him like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him and pretend nothing happened.

“It doesn’t matter when you’re in control..”

“No.. darling, no! You’re in control!” He scrambles, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Really? I’m not sure I trust any of that bullshit anymore.”

“Dear, please, listen to me..!”

“I'm sorry, Al.. I think it's best if you leave.”

He pauses.

“Have a good sleep, dear.” He says, voice filter completely off. It was a rare occasion getting to hear his sweet voice. Too bad it had to be under such circumstances.

-----

“Oh my, Alastor, what's got your ears pinned back?” Rosie leads her friend through the halls and has him take a seat opposite of her. “Is everything alright?”

“No.. no it's not.” He replies. “She found out.”

“About the deal?”

“No, Rosie. No.” He sighs. “She found out what selling her soul to me actually permits me.”

“But you never wanted to abuse that power, did you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then, I'm assuming you didn't tell her?”

“No.”

“Well, why not?”

“Would it make a difference?" She could practically hear him scoff. "She's irritated at me as is. It's not like she'd even heed my words."

“Come, now, Alastor. You know as well as I that the sweetheart would listen.” Rosie tuts, waving a hand at him.

“She doesn't need to know how powerful she actually is.. she doesn't need to know her soul is being gambled this very second.”

Alastor sighs, getting up from his chair.

“Thank you for your kind words, Rosie. I shall take my leave now.”

“Take care, Alastor.” She smiles. “I'm sure she'll understand.”

“I surely hope you're correct."

———/ TBC. /———

READ PART 2 HERE

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel season 1 #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor fluff #alastor x you #alastor hazbin x reader #radio demon #huskerdust #hazbin hotel angel #angel dust #angel hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #husker #husk #angel dust x husk #hazbin husk #overlords

[atimeofyourlife]

Steve being the one who is actually a fountain of queer knowledge because he has a gay uncle in San Francisco or New York, one of the cities that had the biggest queer communities.

Robin not having much information because she's a closeted teenage lesbian who can't drive, so she has nowhere to source that information without raising the suspicions of her parents.

Eddie doesn't have the chance because he can't afford to spend weekends in Indianapolis or Chicago, because weekends mean parties, and parties are one of the best times to deal. He might go occasionally, but just hitting up a bar to find a dude to hook up with, not getting into queer theory because he doesn't really care to. He doesn't bother to learn about hanky code or anything else, because he's not interested. All he's interested in is getting a little action.

But Steve? He spent a lot of time with his uncle, Hank, while growing up. Anytime his family was in the area, they would stay with Hank. Sure, Steve's parents would try to explain his partner, Joe, as a friend or a roommate, but Steve always knew. He could see how in love they were, even more than his parents.

It became normal for him. He heard the words that other people would throw around, how they would talk about how dangerous, how disgusting two men together was. But he couldn't understand why people thought so badly about it. Because Hank and Joe were so happy together and they weren't hurting anyone.

When he was twelve, they were the first people he told when he had the conflicting feelings of having a crush on a pretty girl named Annika in the grade above, but also really wanting to kiss Tommy every time the other boy laughed at one of his jokes. Joe and Hank just listened to him, then taught him about bisexuality. That it was perfectly normal to like both. They gave him gentle warnings, that he would have to be careful because people were cruel.

And because his parents had left him with them for a couple of weeks, they took advantage of it to introduce Steve to other people. They took him to a tiny queer bookshop that was run by a friend of theirs, giving him a space to learn in safety. Because of them, he met people of so many different orientations lesbians, bisexuals, gay men. Self-proclaimed dykes and faggots. Transexuals, men who were once women and women who were once men¹ and people that pushed the boundaries of gender entirely. He felt in awe of all these people, but also loved and accepted by everyone he met.

A few years later, the summer of '82, age 15 and between freshman and sophomore year, he was sat down for a more serious conversation. The day after he arrived, Hank and Joe sat him down for a serious talk about safe sex, in way more detail than what he got from his parents, which was just a pack of condoms appearing in his bathroom on his fifteenth birthday, with a note saying to use them so he wouldn't get a girl pregnant. The talk emphasized the need for a barrier during any type of sex, and brought up the very real risk of GRID, which had yet to be renamed AIDS², to point out why he had to be incredibly careful with everyone he had sex with. But they also made a point to reassure him that they were both okay, that he didn't have to worry about them. They made sure that he knew that they were always there for him, just a phone call away if he ever had any concerns or questions.

A year later, at 16, they decided he was ready for more information. They provided him with pamphlets and zines, covering everything from rights movements to AIDS to secret codes. He took an interest in the hanky code, but felt a little intimidated about what some of the colors meant. They also provided him with a fake id that declared that he was twenty one and that his name was Mark. While he was staying with them, he joined them out in the community. Meeting the people affected by AIDS, learning about the real effects of it and not just the few scare stories that were breaking through on the news. Hearing more stories of lived life, getting a better understanding of the people around him.

Just a few months later, November '83. When everything went to shit. Steve was terrified when he saw the photos Jonathan had taken from outside his house and developed in the school dark room. He couldn't help getting stuck on the what if? What if it wasn't Nancy he had in his room? What if it had been that night when he and Tommy got a little too drunk and kissed each other? What if he'd finally got the nerve to bring a guy home? His life could have been destroyed in seconds by an asshole being a creep.

He became more on guard, scared that at any point someone could be taking photos in his backyard. Then seeing Jonathan with Nancy in her room, it pushed him further. With the fight the next day, he just wanted to make his words hurt. He dug deep and threw out accusations that he'd never wanted to say. Allowing his anger and fear to take over. The moment the word queer left his mouth, he felt an uneasy sense of regret. Accusing someone else of being what he was, as if it was a bad thing.

After it was all over, the details were shared, the cover stories were given, the paperwork declaring that nothing had happened had been signed, Steve felt lost and alone. Even after apologizing, he still felt dirty for calling Jonathan queer. After a few days, he breaks and calls Hank and Joe, and tells them, well not everything, but what he can. The photos, the camera, the fight. What he said to Jonathan. They understood his anger and his fear. They disagreed with his choice of words, but told him that if he'd apologized and meant it, and it had been accepted, there was no point in him continuing to beat himself up about it. That he couldn't change the past, but he had to try and be better in the future.

The following summer, 1984, he joined them with a new hatred and fear of the government. He felt safer with them, not feeling like he was looking over his shoulder all the time. But he was also so worried, what if the Upside Down came back when he wasn't there to help. He threw himself into helping others, knowing there were so many ways that the government was willing to screw over citizens. Wanting to do the little he could when he could. It brought him some peace of mind, being able to do something.

After Starcourt, after getting discharged from the hospital, Steve confides in Robin. He tells her about Hank and Joe. About how much he'd learnt from them. He tells her that he's bisexual, a word she was unfamiliar with, but she embraces him anyway. He spins a story of all the different people he'd met, people that proved it could be okay for people like them.

It formed an even deeper bond between them, a shared understanding that they couldn't find in anyone else their age. They share secrets about crushes, about realizations. Judging how attractive customers are together once they got the jobs at Family Video. Steve showed Robin the zines, helping her pick up more pieces of information, about how many others there were out there.

Steve clocked Vickie pretty quickly, almost certain she was bisexual like he was. Robin struggled to believe him, not wanting to get her hopes up, or to risk getting hurt.

When Eddie crashed into their lives during the spring break from hell, Steve found himself falling hard and fast. He'd noticed the black bandana Eddie wore tucked into his back left pocket, and wanted it. He had never considered being into s&m, but would be willing to take anything Eddie gave him.

He tried to bring it up subtly to Eddie, only to be met with confusion. Even trying less subtle ways of questioning it, Eddie still didn't seem to get it. Steve had to ask if he was flagging, and Eddie responded by asking what flagging was. Steve felt mortified, and stuttered about it being a code, and he thought Eddie was gay. Eddie assured him that he was gay, but still had no clue what Steve was talking about with flagging.

Steve showed Eddie the zines as well, going through all the different colors of the hanky code. Eddie got a little embarrassed when he realized what he'd been signalling, but some of the interactions he'd had with guys the few times he'd been to a gay bar made a lot more sense.

It took a few more days after that for Eddie to realize what Steve had been getting at by bringing up him flagging. There was another awkward, and slightly embarrassing conversation to confirm that yes, they were into each other, and no, neither of them were actually into s&m.

(And of course, Hank and Joe got a kick out of the story when they were the first ones Steve told, other than Robin.)

¹I wrote it this way, as it would have been a way that twelve year old could understand different gender identities in 1979. Different language and terminology was used. I believe that it is up to individual trans people for how they describe and consider themselves pre and post coming out and transition, as it is a very personal thing. I'm non-binary and I consider anything about myself under the age of 17 to be a girl, because that's how I identified at that time. ²(AIDS was known by a bunch of different names, some less kind than others, including GRID [Gay-related immune deficiency] and 4H disease [Heroin users, homosexuals, hemophiliacs and Haitians], until the summer of 1982. The name AIDS was proposed on July 27th 1982, and came into use by the CDC in September of that year. The term HIV came into use in 1986.)

This was supposed to be a quick little headcanon, and it ended up taking me nearly a month to write 1.5k words. And I now want to write so many parts about Steve with his relationship to Hank and Joe. They're the gay uncles everyone deserves.

#steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #platonic stobin #steddie #pre steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #atimeofyourwrites

[queerpumpkinnn]

Trial and Error

1.6k words

Summary: Your new boyfriend Eddie finds out that you've been faking orgasms. He makes it his mission to make sure you don't have to.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content obviously, reader has insecurities about orgasming/not being able to, masturbation (reader, afab but pronouns are not used), brief choking (reader to self), heaps of praise and pet names, voyeurism, let me know if there needs to be anything else!

A/N: Is this self indulgent? Yes no

Part One - Part Two

~

One hour.

It had been the most blissful hour of your life, but it increasingly became more frustrating as it went on.

Eddie hovered over you, pile driving his cock into you with force that had prompted him to place an extra pillow behind your head when it had knocked against the headboard a while earlier. One of his arms propped him up onto his elbow, the other toying with one of your nipples. His pubic bone was brushing your clit with each push of his hips, and his mouth was latched onto your other nipple dutifully.

So why couldn't you orgasm?

In theory, Eddie was doing everything right. It wasn't like you were uncomfortable with him, and you did feel good, it just wasn't building like it was supposed to, you couldn't get that push to tip over the edge. You'd managed to get yourself there on your own, but Eddie, skillful as he was, wasn't you. He couldn't feel exactly what you felt, he relied on reaction. You'd tried giving him directions, from which he learned well, but when they fell just short of getting you to orgasm, you stopped trying to adjust, not wanting to feel nit-picky or difficult.

And so eventually you'd fallen into a habit of pretending to orgasm. It was easy at first, when you were still testing the waters. When he'd fingered you and you couldn't orgasm, you faked it, brushing it off thinking that you just needed his mouth. A few weeks later, when he added his mouth, you brushed it off again, resigning to believe that only his dick would do the job.

And here you were, with his dick inside you for the first time, and you were back where you'd found yourself all those times before. Still hitting that brick wall you couldn’t get over.

You knew deep down that you should just tell Eddie. He'd made it abundantly clear that he wanted to make you feel good. But after time you'd simply given up on it. You still felt good, you thought, and that was good enough.

The thought seemed overwhelmingly clear now, and for some reason that escaped you, it pricked at your waterline.

Glancing over at the clock, you entertained the act again. You took a fistful of his hair, arched your back with a loud, gasping "Fuck, Eddie" and deliberately clenched your pussy around him. You felt his hips stutter, then still as he pulled out. You watched as he fisted his cock a few times, spilling his cum over your stomach. The muscles tensed with the foreign sensation.

You opened your eyes, watching Eddie hovering over you, panting, and you felt your pussy throb. That was only more frustrating.

A moment of silence fell over the two of you, the hot smell of sex thick in the air. You assume Eddie believes you came, until you note the slightly perplexed expression on his face, staring at your collarbone as he was lost in thought, rolling something around in his head. He seems to have concluded the thought with a sigh out his nose, leaning up to kiss you sweetly.

"Feeling good?" He muttered, grinning into your mouth.

"Mhm," you sighed between kisses. "Hardest I've ever come." This was, in fact, total bullshit.

At that, Eddie stopped, pulled away to see your face. "Really?"

You nodded. He shrugged. "That's strange, because I didn't feel it at all."

You froze.

He popped his lips, giving you a sympathetic smile. "I wasn't sure at first, thinking you just didn't have much of a physical reaction when you came. Was still unsure just asking now, but your reaction gives it away."

The wind seemed to be knocked out of you, opting to watch your hand play with his hair than look him in the eye.

"I'm not mad, sweetness, I just don't understand. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know." Your voice was small. "I think...I think I just didn't want to be a bother. I tried telling you stuff to make it better but it still wasn't working- not that you're doing anything wrong!" you added quickly when he blinked at you. "So I just stopped."

"Honey, you know I'm glad to go to whatever lengths are needed to make you orgasm, and if you don't I'm not doing my job." He was earnest in his words, and it made your heart both swell with love and sink with guilt.

"I know. I just feel bad when you've been eating me out for half an hour and I'm no closer to an orgasm than I was twenty minutes ago."

Eddie sighed, pecking your cheek and sitting up on his calves. "I'm not sure you're hearing me, bubs. I genuinely do not care, in the nicest way possible. You need hours? I've got all the time in the world. You need a specific technique? Show me what to do. I don't care if getting you to orgasm takes a little more work, I'd rather take the time to learn than have you pretend for my sake."

Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time with love. You sat up and pulled his face towards yours, kissing him with as much adoration and gratitude as you could muster.

"Sweetness?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you been able to make yourself cum?"

You mumbled an 'mhm', in between kisses.

"I have an idea." He pulled away, eyes now sparked with determination. "I want you to get in whatever position you normally do when you touch yourself."

When he pulled back, you were still for a moment. It took his raising of an eyebrow and gentle gesture to snap you out of it, shifting your weight and the pillows until you lay comfortably on your back.

"Good." Eddie adjusted himself so that he was propped up on his elbows, face level with your pussy. "Now, show me how it's done."

Your jaw nearly fell open. "Eddie..."

Eddie tilted his head, searching for signs of hesitancy on your face. After a moment of stunned silence you began to move, both hands reaching for your tits. Groping, massaging, pinching, caressing. Slowly, so slowly, pulling soft hitches of breath followed by sighs each time. You felt your eyelids flutter closed, partly from the sensation you were losing yourself in, partly from slight embarrassment.

Your left hand traveled up to your neck, soft caresses over your jaw and pulse point before finding the pressure points that had your brain turning fuzzy and a low, breathy noise rumbling in your throat. The right hand found the flesh of your thigh, groping it softly before alternating with your ass.

Eddie chuckled softly. "Didn't know you grabbed your own ass, pretty."

You felt your cheeks warm. "I usually just imagine you doing whatever I'm doing, so..."

"Do you?" Even with your eyes closed you could see the ego-inflated grin pulling his lips back. "Good, that's good. Show me what you picture me doing."

You continued like that for a moment, just feeling around your body. Your middle finger traced the junction between your thigh and your cunt, making your body tense with excitement.

When your eyes had had the courage to open again, they met a lovely sight. Eddie was crouched dutifully down in front of you, hungry and lust-blown eyes noting every slight movement of your hand, gaze flicking from one had to the other, to your face, to your pussy on display in front of him.

Nearly shaking in anticipation, you reached down gingerly to graze a fingertip against the spot right above your clit, which had your hips following your hand when it left.

A soft breath was pulled from you at the action, but it turned into a choked gasp when your finger finally pressed down towards where slick had gathered. You opted to sift it around, collecting it on your fingertips before sliding them up to your clit, a firm, slow swipe making you let out a weak sound.

Once you found a rhythm, you opened your eyes. Eddie was staring intently at your motions, trying to burn every little motion into his brain, wanting to memorize the exact shape you drew into your body. His eyes flicked up to your face every so often, but when they caught on that you were staring, they lingered. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to the insides of your thighs, hands caressing the backs of your thighs, a motion intended to be soothing but instead sent shivers into your skin in its wake.

"Eddie..." you sighed, motions increasing in intensity. Through your growing desperation you managed to stay slow, keeping yourself on edge.

The boy in question groaned into your skin. The idea that he'd asked you to show him exactly what you did when you were alone and that this was what you thought to do. Say his name. That was what came naturally, that was what fueled your desire. Him.

It didn't go unnoticed that your soft moans were getting louder, airier, higher pitched. Eddie reached his hands under you to grip your ass, caressing and squeezing the flesh.

"Good, good." Eddie murmured.

"Fuck, say that again," you gasped.

"What? That you're doing so good? So good for me, yeah? Look fuckin' perfect, 'n I can smell you from here. Christ baby, sound like a damn song, sound so pretty."

Your fervent motions plus Eddie's soft touches and sex-incarnate voice all tipped you over that sticky sweet edge. This orgasm didn't barrel into you, rather, it washed over you, warmth coursing over you from your core outwards. It felt like euphoria.

When you came down and opened your eyes, Eddie was staring at you with a stupid but awestruck look.

"Well, there's no going back, 'cause I can definitely tell the difference now."

~

@lovinvane

Part One - Part Two

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

[flanaganfilm]

The Midnight Club - Season Two

I'm very disappointed that Netflix has decided not to pursue a second season of THE MIDNIGHT CLUB.

My biggest disappointment is that we left so many story threads open, holding them back for the hypothetical second season, which is always a gamble.

So I'm writing this blog as our official second season, so you can know what might have been, learn the fates of your favorite characters, and know the answers to those dangling story threads from the first season.

So for those of you who want to know what we were planning to do, here's a look at what would have been season 2!

AMESH Season 2 would open with Amesh, his glioblastoma advancing quickly. He would tell the first story of the season, but would be struggling to make it through. We'd focus on his love story with Natsuki for those first few episodes as it becomes clear that Amesh's death is imminent.

Meanwhile, Ilonka is trying to reconcile how she was fooled by Julia Jayne, all while falling further in love with Kevin, and she realizes he may be fading faster than he lets on.

Ilonka begins a serialized story in an effort to encourage him to "stay alive a little longer," like he did in season one. And the story she tells is... REMEMBER ME.

This was the thing I was most excited about for this season.

REMEMBER ME is one of my all-time favorite Pike books - it tells the story of a teenage girl who is pushed off a balcony, and awakens as a ghost. She has to navigate being a spirit while trying to solve her own murder. We would have stretched this story out over 5 episodes. We were going to use it as a vehicle for Ilonka to try to come to terms with the fact that she is going to die, and to begin to trying to wrap her head around being a ghost... but this is the coolest part... the lead character of Ilonka's story wouldn't be played by Ilonka. She'd be played by...

Anya.

Because this is how we live on, isn't it? In the minds of those we leave behind. And Ilonka would use REMEMBER ME as a way to imagine her dear friend Anya, waking up as a ghost, navigating the afterlife. And this sets up one of the best mechanisms of the show - even if a character dies, as long as they're remembered by members of the club, they live on in their stories.

As the story starts to pick up steam, though, the group will have to deal with the death of Amesh, which he greets with grace and bravery.

In his final moments, he sees someone in his room - the Janitor from the first season, as played by Robert Longstreet, who says comforting things to Amesh even though he can't respond.

In his final, final moments, the SHADOW descends upon Amesh, and he is engulfed into it, which reinforces the idea that the Shadow is DEATH...

With Amesh's death comes something that upends the entire thing: a NEW PATIENT. We didn't work out too much about who this would be, but it would be a new roommate for Ilonka. Someone taking Anya's old bed. Ilonka would find herself being initially cold to her - just as Anya was when Ilonka arrived. Even feeling like this new girl shouldn't necessarily be ushered into the Club. But of course they would develop a beautiful friendship over the course of the season. The new girl joins the club, where something else exciting is happening - Cheri is telling a story. We hadn't decided which one, but I think it might have been MONSTER.

Natsuki would be the next to die, which would be heartbreaking. And again, she would talk to the janitor just before it happened... and again, the Shadow would come in the final moments.

For Spence, though, things would take a different turn.

The advancements in HIV treatment in the late 90's would come into play, and we'd see his prognosis change. The HIV cocktail came out in Dec 1995, and we really wanted to explore that.

Spence would ride the swell of antiviral advancements, and by the end of the season, he'd no longer be classified as terminal. In the finale of season 2, Spence would leave Brightcliffe just like Sandra did in Season 1, heading off to manage his disease and live the rest of his life.

But onto the BIG MYSTERIES of the season one... here are some answers: What is up with Dr. Stanton's tattoo and bald head? Well, a few things. First, Dr. Stanton is actually the daughter of the original Paragon cult leader, Aceso. Her nickname was Athena, she wrote the Paragon journal that Ilonka found in S1. She turned on her mother and helped the kids escape, but because she was part of the cult in her teenage years, she had the tattoo.

It was her initials that Ilonka found carved into the tree in season 1 (her maiden name was Georgina Ballard, hence the G.B. that Ilonka finds carved in the tree).

She hated what her mother became, and the atrocities of the cult. She reclaimed the property after her mom was gone, and wanted to change it into a place that celebrated life. She was trying to undo her mother's legacy and leave something behind that was beautiful. She is wearing a wig at the end of S1 not because of a sinister reason, but because she is undergoing chemo. Dr. Stanton has cancer. Having helped so many people deal with disease, she now has to deal with it herself.

Her treatment would be successful, and she'd go into remission, but having to face that - while caring for the terminal kids at Brightcliffe - was going to be a very introspective arc for Stanton.

What about the Living Shadow? It's Death, right? Well... no.

At the end of the season, Kevin will die... followed shortly by Ilonka. And as she is dying, two things will happen. First, she'll find herself talking to the Janitor, played by Robert Longstreet... and she'll make a discovery.

HE is Death. And nothing to be afraid of. It turns out no one else ever saw this character. Stanton has a cleaning service, and the Nurse practitioners make up the rooms - the only people who ever saw this mysterious Janitor were the patients. He is Death, and offers them kind words before they die. Then what was the Shadow?

This is an idea we take directly from the book REMEMBER ME, and we'll see it play out in the final moments of Ilona's final tale. In Pike's book, Shari is pursued by a dark entity called The Shadow. When it finally catches her, though, it turns out it is not a bad thing at all.

The Shadow is THEMSELVES. It's the Unknown. As it engulfs someone, in the last moment of their life, it takes them through a place of understanding and catharsis, preparing them for the next step.

THIS is what happened to Anya in S1 when the Shadow finally reached her - that's why she fantasized a life beyond Brightcliffe, which ultimately let her find acceptance of her death. It looks different for everybody, depending on their mind-set - because it is simply an extension of themselves.

The Shadow is just the final catharsis, a return to our original form - it is a moment of true understanding, and once we experience it, we move on to the next place.

We see the Shadow in full effect when it finally comes for Kevin. KEVIN DIES with Ilonka at his side, and it leads to the biggest reveal of the season:

Who were the Mirror Man and the Cataract Woman?

They were Stanley Oscar Freelan and his wife, who built Brightcliffe (fun trivia, he is named after the real-life Freelan Oscar Stanley, who built my favorite hotel in America - the Stanley Hotel. The Stanley is also the inspiration for THE SHINING!).

But more than that... there's a reason that Ilonka only sees Stanley in the mirror, and sees the Cataract Woman whenever she looked at Kevin. This is something else we took from Pike's original book... these aren't ghosts, but glimpses of PAST LIVES.

Ilonka WAS Stanley Oscar Freelan, and Kevin WAS his wife. They've lived many lives this way, and are true SOUL MATES - they always find each other, and they always fall in love. In this life, they knew it would be a short one, so they agreed to find each other in the house they built. They've been "remembering" who they are, and glimpsing their former selves in reflections, and sometimes when they look at each other. This is also why Ilonka's very first words to Kevin in S1 were "Do I know you?" and why Kevin thought she was familiar as well. They are two souls who always find each other, again and again.

The story is this: Stanley was dying, and built this cliffside home hoping that the seaside air would help him. It did, and he far outlived his prognosis (this is also true of the real-life Freelan Stanley). However, his wife began to succumb to dementia.

She would wander the halls, looking for him ("Darling!") and would even forget to feed herself ("I'm starving...") and she eventually refused to leave the basement. Heartbroken for her, Stanley painted the walls to resemble the woodland view, and the ceiling to resemble the night sky, so that it would be a little more beautiful for her.

He also painted a labyrinth on the floor, which was a technique used to try to curb the effects of dementia. She'd walk the pattern of the maze and it was believed it could help her cognition. Eventually, she developed frightening cataracts, but Stanley loved her through it all.

They were soul mates.

So while they seemed scary in season 1, that was just how Ilonka and Kevin's mind were trying to remember their pasts. We even had their faces distorting in ways consistent with how memories degrade over time. When the Shadow comes for Ilonka, and gives her this understanding - this "remembering" - she realizes she has nothing to fear. She and Kevin will shed these personas and be reborn, and have the joy of finding each other another way. The Shadow comes for her, Death takes her gently, and Ilonka goes off with Kevin back into the cosmos, ready for their next incarnation. The series would end with Cheri telling this story to a whole new table of patients, including our new series leads. Most of our original cast now would exist as stories, a story told to the next "class" of storytellers at the table, all of whom we will have met by the end of the season. A story called "The Midnight Club."

Well, that's it... that was what we had in mind. It's a shame we won't get to make it, but it would be a bigger shame if you guys simply had to live with the unanswered questions and the cliffhanger ending. I loved making this show, and I am so proud of the cast and crew. Particularly our cast, who attacked this story with incredible spirit and bravery each and every day.

But for now, we'll put the fire out, and leave the library dark and quiet. To those before, and to those after. To us now, and to those beyond.

Seen or unseen, here but not here.

I'll always be grateful that I got to be part of this Club.

#the midnight club #season 2 #cancelled #netflix #what might have been #flanaverse #mike flanagan #christopher pike #intrepid pictures #remember me #unanswered questions #loose ends #heather langenkamp #farewell brightcliffe