#except also a lot of people are now reading me as a MAN which i’m also like. homie. not that either lmao.
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Happy birthday Dean Winchester! Here's a quick one-shot I whipped up to celebrate.
This also fulfils the 'Plus Size' square of my @spnaubingo 2023 bingo card, even though it's 2024... I'm late, I know, but I still want to do some more of it!
Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus sized!reader
Words: 1.6k
Warnings: Couple of crap comments from a random, some not-great self-esteem and a drunk character, but nothing particularly bad.
Synopsis: A man you're interviewing makes some crap comments about your body, and Dean doesn't help. Can he make it up to you?
Supernatural writing masterlist
“Which one’s the father?” The sleazy guy joked. My stomach dropped.
“Excuse me?!”
“Oh, it’s alright love, I know the real father’s probably suffering somewhere alone while you’re off gallivanting with your workmates. I’m surprised he lets you out, really.”
The urge to punch the witness we were interviewing was overwhelming. Rather than ruin the case, I turned on my heel and marched out.
Fuck that guy. I’m not pregnant and I’m not screwing either of the Winchesters.
I heard Dean’s FBI agent tone of voice as he started speaking behind me. Great to see they were all just moving on with their lives, I thought sarcastically.
---
📱 Where are you? We’re going to the next witness’s house
A text came in from Dean. I read it but didn’t reply.
📱 You ok?
I sighed. Finally, he asks.
📱 Fine. I’ll catch up with you later
I replied. He sent me a thumbs up, I rolled my eyes.
I kicked at the ground and started the walk back into town. Sam and Dean would probably try and make me feel better, but I knew that wasn’t happening. I looked down at my soft, flabby belly that I’d tried multiple times to lose.
I walked.
---
I felt a bit absurd, getting tipsy this early. It wasn’t that I felt like I had to drink to get over the comment. It was just that I’d gotten back to the motel room and was feeling a bit morose, and there was nothing to do. I’d tapped out of the case and I was bored. I went for another wander and this stupid town had nothing in it but a pub, and so somehow I’d ended up here, starting drinking a lot earlier than normal.
And now I looked like I was drinking my feelings, when I wasn’t.
Not that there was anyone looking at me anyway.
Well, except in disgust. Who knew how many more people in here thought I was pregnant too. Probably thought I was harming an unborn baby, right now.
Fuck them.
---
“You know there’s still a monster on the loose?” Dean said gruffly, a frown on his face. I guess it’d been easy to find me given how few things there were in this town.
“You struggling without me?” I didn’t think I was slurring too much, but his expression did not improve when I started talking.
“How you going to fight one off like this?” he gestured to me.
“You think a few drinks are why I’m fat?” I said sarcastically.
“I’m not calling you fat, I’m calling you drunk.”
“Right,” I said with an eyeroll.
“Come on, get in the car,” he said, trying to tug my arm.
“Fuck off Dean! I can drink if I want to. There’s nothing else to do in this shithole, anyway.”
He dropped my arm and stomped off to the bar.
I turned back to my drink. Sam came and sat opposite me. You can’t escape the bloody Winchesters.
“Hey, you ok?” he asked with his puppy dog eyes.
“I’m fine. I had a free afternoon, I came to get a drink. Is that fucking crime now?”
“I meant about what happened with the guy. You seemed pretty upset.”
“Surprised you could see that, you were both so busy being silent.”
“Didn’t you hear Dean?”
“How could I hear Dean when he wasn’t saying anything?”
“No, he laid right into the guy.”
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I heard Dean get right back into his FBI voice as I walked off.”
“Yeah, he was still in character at first, told the guy that he needed to speak respectfully to Agents. And then when the guy was still a douche he got a bit more Dean and threatened to punch his lights out if he didn’t shut up about you.”
I laughed into my drink. I was sure Sam was embellishing, there was just no way Dean would care that much about someone being mean to me.
Speak of the devil, Dean appeared again, tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He put the water in front of me.
“Thanks, but I don’t accept drinks from strangers,” I said sarcastically.
“I’m not having you hung over tomorrow and being a liability to the case, drink the water.”
“I don’t remember electing you.”
“Jesus, you’re even more belligerent when drunk. Just drink the water and stop moping.”
“I’m not moping!”
“The guy was an asshole, no one thinks you look pregnant. But you can’t just drink yourself blotto and get yourself killed every time someone says something mean to you.”
I stood up, grabbed the glass of water and upended it all over Dean’s face. Then I marched out the door.
The effect was a little ruined by my drunken stagger, though.
---
Sam caught my arm as I got outside. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
“I walked myself here, I can walk myself home!”
“I’m pretty sure you were walking in a straight line when you got here though. Come on.”
I let him tug me to the Impala. He must’ve grabbed the keys off Dean before chasing after me.
“He’s just worried about you,” he said gently as we were exiting the carpark. “Doesn’t want you getting hurt.”
“That does not give him a free pass to behave like that.”
---
Dean stood over me, a glass of water and a couple of painkillers in his hands. “Morning, sunshine. Need some relief?”
I gratefully reached out. Man, I did not normally drink that much.
“What time is it?”
“Time to work the case.”
I groaned, “Can’t you do it without me?”
“No, come on, back on the horse.”
“It’s not the horse that’s the problem, it’s the dog that bit me.”
“I did tell you to drink water,” he said smugly.
“Fuck off!” I threw my pillow at him. He easily deflected but wisely left me alone after that.
I groaned and got off the couch I’d been sleeping on, slumping to the bathroom. The boys were sitting around the tiny table, already dressed and looking at their laptops.
Sam was gone when I came out, freshly showered, dressed and feeling slightly more human. I looked at Dean with a clear question on my face.
“He’s gone for coffee, thought you could use some.”
“Thanks.”
“I, uh,” Dean continued, more hesitantly, “I owe you an apology.”
I crossed my arms across my chest. An apology from Dean was a rare thing, but I was wary it was going to end up being a backhanded insult instead. I often felt like I needed to protect my heart from being hurt by him.
“I was worried about you getting hurt when I saw you were drunk. But I just tried to solve the problem, I didn’t actually talk to you, and I,” he paused, biting his lip, “I shouldn’t do that.”
“Nice to see I’m just a problem,” I replied sarcastically. I wasn’t sure why he was riling me so much, but I still felt so hurt and angry.
He stood up and came over to me. “You’re not a problem,” he said quietly, trying to look into my eyes. I ducked my head away from the intensity of his look. “And I am sorry that asshat upset you.”
“I didn’t get drunk just because some guy called me pregnant, you know.” I could hear how defensive I sounded, despite my best efforts not to.
“It’s a shitty thing he did anyway. You’re beautiful.”
I laughed mirthlessly.
“Don’t do that,” he said quietly. “Don’t put yourself down all the time.”
“Dean, your idea of beautiful is tall, thin, busty and great hair.”
“That’s not true.”
“Well, they’re all thin at least.”
“Who are ‘they’?”
“The women you sleep with, the women you hit on.”
“I can think of many women I’ve hit on who aren’t ‘thin’, it doesn’t matter to me.”
“Suuuure,” I said with an eye roll.
“But I haven’t hit on many women lately, been distracted by one in particular.”
“Let me guess, beautiful?”
“Absolutely.”
“My point exactly. It’s ok Dean, you don’t have to ma-” Dean’s fingers found my chin, nudging it up so I would like at him.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t made you feel it.”
I stared at him, mouth agape. Absolutely stunned into silence.
“And I’m sorry again that I was a bit of a dick yesterday.”
His face came even closer, watching my reactions.
“You’re my weak spot,” he whispered.
“No, I’m not.” I put my hands on his chest, “Dean, this isn’t funny, don’t tease me.”
He dropped his hand from my chin, looking hesitant. “Sweetheart, I’m putting my heart on the line here, I’m not teasing.”
My hands slackened.
He edged a tiny bit forward.
His tongue darted out and back in. I couldn’t stop staring at his lips.
Was this even real?
How was this happening?
His hand came up to cup my cheek.
I leant forward.
The world suddenly sped up again. Dean moved in, closing the gap between us and bringing his lips to mine. I lost myself in the tenderness of his touch, the softness of his lips, the exploration of his tongue and mine.
A sudden noise made us pull apart. Sam was standing in the doorway, cardboard holder with coffees in one hand and the other on his hip.
“I’m happy for you guys and all, but we still have a case to work. You can pick this up later.”
.
.
.
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#my writing#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x plus size reader#dean winchester x plus size!reader#dean winchester angst#dean winchester birthday#happy birthday dean#deansbirthdaybash#plus size reader#chubby reader#dean winchester x chubby reader#dean x reader#dean x plus size reader#spnaubingo#drunk character#mistaken for pregnant#i write terrible synopses#but it's better than it sounds
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I adore Eddie falling asleep in front of the live stream and everything that follows
But now I’m also thinking of Steve one day seeing the live stream is still on but he has no idea how to turn it off so he has to ask Chat for help which he has to find first and it just turns into this hilarious quest of Chat trying to explain how to turn it off while Steve barely finds the chat to even read it
This is so painfully in line with this AU’s Steve and I love it so much. It’s perfect.
This time Steve is in the room when Eddie falls asleep, so he’s aware that there is a live-stream going on. He hasn’t been seen on camera, but the audience can hear him when he says, “You know what I’ve been craving?”
Followed by, “Benny’s Burgers. Isn’t that crazy?”
Followed by, “…Ed?”
Followed by, “Oh.”
Because Eddie’s eyes drifted shut ten minutes ago and they have yet to open. You can kinda hear movement and then Steve is wandering into the frame with his hands on his hips. He looks at the camera and frowns at it before he pokes Eddie in the arm, “Ed. Eddie, babe. You left the – the thing going.”
Eddie slumps over a little more and Steve sighs, running his hands through his hair. He doesn’t try to wake Eddie up anymore, just twists him around so he’s laying more comfortably. He throws a blanket over him and then wipes his hands of the whole situation. It is not his problem.
Except that makes him feel bad, so he comes back to the studio.
At first he just sits the phone facedown and leaves again, but he doesn’t like that either. What if Eddie talks in his sleep about the Upside Down (something that he has never done before), or has a bad nightmare, or farts and the whole internet hears it. Steve doesn’t want him to be embarrassed so, “It’s not rocket science, Harrington. Let’s figure this out.”
It might be rocket science.
For the audience at home, they get to experience Steve Harrington up close and personal because Steve is (1) not wearing his glasses and (2) cannot figure out how to end the stream. He keeps tapping at the screen, looking more and more annoyed as he does it, and then he stands up and walks out of the room.
Steve puts the phone on the coffee table in the living room, and then leaves again. After another five minutes, he comes back. The audience at home gets to watch this man mutter to himself as he places the phone in different rooms and then decides he doesn’t like it there and comes back for it (“The bathroom? Really, Harrington? What are you doing?”).
Frustrated with wasting the last hour of his life (much to the amusement of the people watching), Steve picks up the phone again and glares at it. He is sitting on the floor in the living room, squinting at the phone as he jabs at the screen again, “Tell me how to turn you off.”
Steve frowns, “Where’s the chatlog? I know there’s a – oh my god.”
“There was nothing wrong with AOL messenger!” Steve rants to the screen as he continues to poke at it. “I had AOL and I was happy. Everything was where it should be. Myspace was fine! I had a Myspace, but this – Oh! I got it. I got it! Hello. Can someone tell me how to turn this off?”
There are a lot of people in the chat. Most of them are excited that Steve is there and they’re gushing in the comments about how much they love him and appreciate him. Some people are asking questions about him. There are people begging him not to end the stream and others telling him to wake Eddie up.
There are even people who are genuinely trying to help him, but it’s all coming at Steve really fast. It’s sudden and overwhelming, and – “I’m too dyslexic for this.”
“I’ve got a brain like scrambled eggs, can – just one of you talk and tell me how to end this. Can you do that?” Steve asks, and everybody comments at once. “So, no. You can’t do that. Great.”
Steve rubs at his eyes and then does what he should’ve done in the first place and calls Dustin. He has his phone on speaker so the audience can hear when Dustin answers. Steve only says, “Help me.”
“With the stream or in general?”
“How do you –“ Steve stops, makes eye contact with the camera and then rolls his eyes. “Have I not suffered enough for you.”
“No.”
Steve has a look on his face like he’s about to remind Dustin that he was literally tortured in the name of scientific discovery but thinks better of it and says, “I’m telling Erica.”
“Fine, I’ll tell you how to end it.”
Dustin starts walking Steve through how to end the live stream but right before Steve hits the right button to end it all, both his phone and Eddie’s phone are knocked out his hands and you hear him yelp as he’s tackled over. The chat explodes and Dustin’s like, “Where’d you go? Steve?”
Then you hear the sound of a kiss and Eddie say, “I’ve missed you.”
There’s a smile in Steve’s voice when he says, “It’s been an hour.”
“Tell me about it.”
There’s the sound of another kiss and then, very loudly, Steve says, “Turn off your live-stream!”
#if you’re reading this and thinking that’s not what a live-stream on Tiktok is like#I don’t have the app. I’ve never seen a live-stream so I’m guessing#eddie munson tiktok saga#steve harrington#eddie munson
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Traditional VII
You can read the rest of this series here: Traditional
I've heard lots that we're excited about this part, please keep that in mind as you read and try not to hate me by the end of it. Also, a huge reminder I don't know much about business terminology, concepts, or situations.
“Oh, love?” He said quickly right before she hung up.
“Yes?”
“I’m so proud of you,” he told her.
Can you bring this file in? FYI Harry’s mad. Don’t be alarmed.
:( be right in
She hated when Harry was mad. Nothing made her more nervous than when he was angry. She had only seen it a handful of times. Fortunately, it had never been directed at her. She was hoping to keep it that way. But moreover, she hadn’t been an immediate witness to his temper either. In the six months she had been at Styles Incorporated, she had only heard him yelling through Niall’s phone or from an office she passed. Unbeknownst to her, whenever he yelled or got frustrated, Niall did everything in his power to ensure she wouldn’t be around. He did it regularly because he knew his track record with the interns before. But now he did it because he was Harry’s best friend and as his best friend, he knew how much this girl meant to him, even if Harry wasn’t fully aware yet.
Of course, there was nothing to get mad about outside company walls. So, when he was angry, all she felt was worry and sadness. If Niall needed her help mid-meeting and he was mad, then it was dire.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced at the meeting title on Niall’s schedule one last time. The meeting was held for the last three hours of the workday with the anticipation of finding a solution within the first hour. But they hadn’t so it was now approaching hour two. She grabbed the appropriate folder making sure the name on the meeting in his schedule matched the folder in her hand. She had looked over that file with Niall not too long ago. Like an epiphany, she knew the reason for Harry’s anger. She wished she had told Niall this morning all the research she had been doing before he went about his own business. Or at least asked what his thoughts were on what she had done. Unfortunately, since landing in front of Harry and Niall this contract issue had been all-consuming and there hadn’t been much downtime for her to get a word in to either of them while at work. It was especially too late now. She had no idea what they had discussed up to this point. Grabbing the folder off Niall’s desk she hurried down the hall to the conference room. As she was told on her very first day, she knocked and entered. But her heart was beating out of her chest like she was in trouble. She entered in the middle of Harry’s rant, and she made eye contact immediately with Niall who sent her a quick wink to keep her calm. No one looked at her except for Niall. The idea of even glancing in Harry’s direction made her too nervous to do anything.
“— as I’m concerned we can stay here all night until we figure out a plan!”
The venom in his voice made her uneasy. She was so shocked that the man that previously rubbed petroleum jelly all over her body and kissed her like she was made of porcelain could produce such a sharp tone that it made her almost visibly cringe. There were at least fifteen people seated around the large table. No one looked at Harry. They all typed rapidly on their laptops looking for solutions.
“If someone doesn’t come up with something in the next five minutes, I’m going to start firing someone every 10 minutes until the end of the day,” he growled out.
Naturally, Niall was seated beside Harry at the farthest end of the table from the door. He was the only one who looked calm. She didn’t know how he could sit right next to him so unaffected. Must have been nice to be his best friend. She walked slowly. As if she walked that slowly, Harry might not see her. She didn’t want him to see her. She was worried he would get mad at her reflexively. Which didn’t make any sense because it didn’t involve her at all. But it didn’t matter. His anger made her sad solely because she cared so much about him—whether he knew it or not.
“What if we ask one of them to le—”
Harry turned his head like he was in a horror movie and just possessed by a demon. He spoke toward the person about to say (arguably, even from her perspective as a lowly intern) the dumbest thing she could have ever imagined someone saying at this moment in time. “You’re not about to recommend that one of our biggest clients leaves?” He snapped bitterly. She flinched almost imperceptibly at his tone. “What the fuck am I paying the lot of you?” He grumbled under his breath.
Everyone was avoiding eye contact with everyone else, not just Harry. “Does anyone have a semi-intelligent idea, or should I start firing people?” She couldn’t believe how harsh he was. But that’s why he was the boss, and she was just an intern. “Someone better say something useful in the next fifteen second or everyone—”
At the same time Harry spoke, she handed the file off to Niall. The silence was approaching near deafening. “Thank you, darling,” he whispered.
Without her realizing, her anxiety of Harry’s anger proved to be too much for her. The need to find a solution, offer a solution bubbled out of her mouth without her brain’s consent, she spoke just as Harry was about to fire the whole group. She wanted it to be whispered to Niall but her brain, as always, was so wrapped up in Harry that her mouth bypassed all rational thought. It took her a moment to notice it was her own voice speaking. “Why don’t you just have them partner together so it’s a mutual agreement between them?”
The moment the words left her lips, she slapped her hand over her mouth with an audible smack. She closed her eyes and refused to make eye contact with anyone. “I... am... so sorry,” she glanced finally at Niall. His eyebrows were raised in surprise, lips parted in shock. Like he was just as frozen in disbelief as she was. The outstretched folder in his hands hadn’t even fully made it into his possession yet. If she thought the room was silent before, nothing compared to the ear-piercing quietness now. After another moment suspended in a long pause, Niall turned to Harry.
“That’s not a bad idea,” he mumbled. Harry appeared shocked by her outburst as well. In fact, for the first time all day it seemed, he was speechless. His eyes were scanning her like he had only just noticed she was there. Maybe she was lucky, and walking slowly did make her invisible.
“Go on,” Harry said. She could tell he was still wildly irritated, but he bit back his frustration once he realized it was her. That made her nervous in itself; she hoped no one paid any mind to how he lessened his tone. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“I-I don’t—” She shook her head.
“No, go ahead,” Niall said encouragingly and rubbed his forehead at the same time, so he was covered when he winked at her without anyone else at the table seeing behind his hand.
“Uh...if...you partner them before you ask for what you want out of a merger...then it avoids a conflict of interest,” her voice wasn’t unsure, per se. She was confident she was correct. But she was terrified of Harry. Well...not...her Harry. Not that he was hers...but the version of him that cared for her in some capacity. He would never make her feel stupid or question her.
“Oh, we can’t seriously be taking an intern’s advice,” a woman at the other end of the table said. She glanced at her and could feel her own face warming in embarrassment that she was so thoughtless to say anything.
Harry’s head snapped toward the woman at the other end. Since she specifically did work for Niall, she knew nearly no one other than Harry and a few people from IT and HR. She didn’t even know the name of the woman that somehow took offense to her idea. “I’m sorry, did you have an idea?”
“There’s no way she knows what we’re talking about. She’s not even supposed to be here. This meeting is confidential.”
“Love, d’you have anything to attend to, or can y’stay for the last bit of this?” Harry asked.
“Oh, I don’t have to stay,” she shook her head quickly. Trying to keep Harry, Niall, (and now) this woman happy was her first priority...even if she hated the woman at the other end of the table. The last thing she wanted was for someone to notice Harry treated her differently. “I was going to tell Mr. Horan abou—”
“Niall, is she busy or can she spare a few minutes to stay and chat?” Harry asked, interrupting her.
“Mr. Styles, this meeting is confidential!” She would really like to know what she did to piss this woman off.
“Does anyone have a better idea?” Harry asked. It was silent.
“You should stay, darling,” Niall smiled gently as he murmured the words to her. He stood quickly and gestured for her to sit. He leaned against the windowsill, perched the folder on his lap and flipped through the first couple pages scanning for information.
No one answered Harry’s question. Specifically, the woman at the other end who was glaring at the now empty seat beside Harry. “Then, please sit,” Harry said quietly. But it was really an order. So, she sat uncomfortably. She never left her office without a pen behind her ear, which she was more grateful for than ever. Taking the writing utensil from her ear, she pulled it into her lap and fiddled with the cap opening and closing it quietly so she wouldn’t let it click but still allowed her to fidget awkwardly.
“Please continue,” Niall said from his spot by the window. Harry started pacing the length of the wall across from the window. Near the door to the hall.
She cleared her throat. She wanted to sound confident. Part of her wished she wrote it down. “Well, Mr. Horan had mentioned the dilemma...so I researched some similar cases,” she explained.
She spoke for a couple minutes. People were listening to her intently. She even surprised herself, but she thought of the research she had been doing when Niall mentioned the stressfulness of the most recent contracts and why this one of all things was going to be dire if they didn’t come up with a solution. All she wanted was to help; specifically, she wanted to help Niall the most (ergo Harry as well). Plus, she liked research. A few people had minor questions, curious as to what cases she looked up or how she even knew in the first place of where to look. “Well... one of my professors was big on conflict of interest, so I emailed him to ask.”
Niall and Harry made eye contact from their respective corners of the room. She was too nervous to look at either of them to notice the look that passed between them.
After speaking for so long, she finished her little monologue with a summary. “If my understanding and research is correct, this is definitely more of a legal process and problem we would—excuse me, you would have to go through. What I found, however, if you have the two clients for a partnership on this project, then you no longer have a conflict of interest. You do have to fill out a disclosure form and—”
“And lose a ton of money,” the woman at the other end grumbled. “Why are we even considering this?”
Harry didn’t speak. He was still pacing. He had had his hands clasped in front of his face; his index fingers pressed against his lips. Her heart was racing. Niall put the folder in front of her. On the very top paper Niall had written on a sticky note: you’re doing great :)
She took a deep breath. “Yes, there would be a pretty significant loss...but as far as I can tell by my research, the only other option is to lose one or both of the clients. Which I think would be arguably detrimental,” she concluded and pressed her lips together. She bit the inside of her bottom lip to keep her from saying anything else.
Harry spun on his heel at the sound of her accurate conclusion. For one miniscule moment he held her gaze. It was so brief if she wasn’t so in love with him, so attuned to catching where his eyes were looking, she might not have noticed. “Do you all recognize how this was an actual helpful contribution to our situation?” He asked rhetorically once more.
“Losing money is helpful?” Who spit in her coffee that she had such an attitude? And why was it directed at her idea? Did she not know that a business like this was a group effort? Her heart was hammering against her chest so fast; the idea that someone thought she was stupid made her feel so embarrassed.
“Losing the least amount of money is helpful,” Niall remarked casually looking up from his folder.
“Thank you,” Harry said, and it was a surprised sounding thank you. One that she hadn’t ever really gotten from him. Most of his thank yous oozed with kindness. This one was flat. Like he was trying to not show how truly thankful he was for her.
“Get up,” Niall whispered quickly as he leaned toward her to grab a document out of the folder. He didn’t mean it maliciously and she could tell that. In fact, she was quite grateful he told her what to do because she wanted to run out of there. She would have thrown herself out the window to escape if that meant she could get away from the awkwardness of Harry’s anger and that woman’s anger. She stood and Niall put the piece of paper in front of his mouth and directed his speech against it so it would go toward her ear. “Go get the disclosure form, check your phone. Great job,” his voice was so low, but she didn’t miss how the seriousness emphasized how proud he really was.
She exited around the opposite side of the table as Harry made his way back to his original seat. She left the room and breathed a sigh of relief getting out of there. She could already hear Harry chattering away on the other side. Almost immediately her phone vibrated in her pocket. It was Niall.
HOLY SHIT.
Oh my God...
Oh. My. GOD.
Good or bad?
I’m freaking out!
GOOD. I’M SO PROUD. Bring the form back in, you don’t have to stay, knock and give it to Harry.
Do you want me to fill it out?
Darling, if you fill it out, Harry might not be the only one who falls in love with you.
*
She was practically bouncing in her apartment when she got home. She felt so light, so excited to contribute something of worth to Harry’s company. She cleaned and danced around the whole place feeling like she could truly do anything. Once cleaned, she pulled the laundry from the dryer, and she was bouncing to the music in her headphones while she waited for her leftovers to reheat in the microwave. She was going to fold laundry and snuggle up with a good book after eating and having one of the best days of her professional life thus far.
She emailed her professor back and thanked him for the help, told him how grateful she was, and the advice was so helpful that she really thought she might get a job at the end of the year.
I had a GREAT day! She texted Louis and Eleanor.
Oh yeah? Did Harry finally fuck you?
Louis, can you just...? Eleanor sent an eye roll emoji to their chat. She giggled. Not even Louis being cheeky could embarrass her right now. What happened, love?
So, she sent a few voice messages and told them all about the woman that seemed to hate her for no reason. All about how Niall was impressed. Her professor was impressed. Maybe most importantly, Harry was impressed.
Of course, she hates you. Harry values you and your opinion. She’s JEALOUS. She didn’t want to believe Louis. The idea that anyone would be jealous of her was laughable. But it created a pang in her chest because there was just no way that anyone would ever think Harry would willingly be with her in that way. That he would see her in the light that could possibly make people jealous.
Don’t forget we’re proud of you too, love :) Eleanor replied.
Her phone rang at that moment with Louis at the other end. “Hey,” he said softly.
“Hi, are you alright?” She asked curiously hearing the gentle tone. It was very unlike Louis to sound so quiet. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she listened alertly for signs of trouble.
He chuckled. “Yes, babe. Promise.”
She pressed the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she folded her laundry. “Then—”
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered. She stopped folding. Her heart fluttered and she rolled her lips into her mouth. Louis wasn’t one for long loving speeches. She only ever heard his big speeches all of three times. Once when her brother died and he spoke at the funeral, the next when he found out how she had been living for the two years since his passing with her parents, and finally when he told Eleanor how much he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and she snapped pictures of him sliding a ring into place.
This, apparently, was going to be the fourth time. “I didn’t video you, because I know you’re probably fighting back tears already, so I just want to say this and then I’m going to hang up immediately because if I even hear a sniffle I’m going to run over there, and you know how I hate running.”
She smiled because if she laughed or breathed, she would have started to cry.
“Your brother would be unbelievably proud of you. Actually, I know he’s proud of you. Prouder than anyone—prouder than Eleanor, me, Harry, Niall, your professor...everyone. You are incredible. Your parents have no idea who they’re missing, and your brother is...wow,” he said simply in awe. She let the tears silently flow and she nodded, trying not to breathe into the phone because she didn’t want to bother Louis by making him run. Her heart ached so badly. Nothing was fair about this moment. Her brother should have been there. But she loved Louis so much for being there for her, for cheering for her when no one else did. “Okay, I’m gonna go now so you can cry in peace. I love you, babe, always and always.”
“Me too!” She heard Eleanor from the back.
“Talk soon,” he said sweetly, and the call ended.
She released a noisy sob and brushed the tears away. Unfortunately, she didn’t cry in peace for longer than thirty seconds. Niall was calling her before she could catch her breath. “Hello—?”
“I’m so sorry to bother you darling, I know you probably just got settled at home, but I was just wondering if you could send Harry and I the artic—are you crying?” He asked. She accidentally let her sniffles get the best of her as she tried to calm herself while he spoke. She even turned the speaker away from her mouth to hide it as best she could so that he wouldn’t hear. It clearly didn’t work. “Darling, are you—?”
“What’s wrong?” Harry was at the other end. “Love, are you okay?” The worry in Harry’s voice melted her already breaking heart. She sniffled again trying to regain her breathing so she could respond but all the words were choked off. “Kitten, please,” he begged anxiety so evident in his voice she could almost taste it.
“I-I’m fine,” she whispered sniveling like a child. “I’m—"
“No, you’re not,” he sounded like he was shaking his head and trying to convince her that she wasn’t okay. “Love, do y’need help? Are y’hurt?” She imagined him pacing Niall’s office. Squeezing his phone and in the right circumstance she believed Harry was strong enough to bend the metal frame.
“No!” she said hurriedly before Harry had paramedics breaking down her door. Or more than likely, before he broke down her door himself. “I’m okay,” but she was hiccupping on her uneasy breaths so much she couldn’t get all the words out fast enough, in one breath, to assuage his worry.
“Kitten, I don’t—”
“It’s just...my brother,” she croaked and let the tears of sadness but overwhelming kindness from her best friend flow some more. The last thing she wanted to do was worry Harry. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to force the tears to stop and she pressed her hand over her mouth so hard as she (very unattractively, in hindsight) snorted around a sob.
“Oh,” Harry almost sounded relieved. She nearly heard the sigh of relief deflating his tense shoulders. He figured she wasn’t hurt and that made all the difference to him. “Oh, m’so sorry, love,” he whispered. “M’glad you’re alright. Can y’jus’ call us back when y’feel up to it in a bit? Take your time, really s’not imp—”
“No, no,” she took a deep shaky breath. “No, I’m alright,” she sounded a little more confident.
“Love...” he cooed again almost disapprovingly. “S’okay. It doesn’t—”
“No, it’s alright,” she sniffled. “What do you need?” She asked.
Harry sighed. “The articles or the cases y’found. Our lawyers wanted—”
“Sure, sure. One second, I should—” she hiccupped on her own breath again but continued as if she didn’t interrupt herself, “—have sent them after the meeting.”
“It’s alright, y’didn’t know,” he answered softly. She hurried to her bag by the door with her laptop inside. Grabbing it she made her way to the kitchen counter and flipped it open. She liked listening to the way he sounded on the phone. His breath was comforting. It occurred to her she had never spoken to him on the phone since that first day at Styles Incorporated.
They were both silent while she booted up her laptop, save for the occasional sniffle. “One second.”
“Take your time,” he repeated. She released a shivering breath and Harry sighed like he was in pain. He didn’t think she lied to him on any kind of regular basis, but he thought she might if she was worried, she would upset him. So, while he hated the idea of her mourning someone so close to her—especially when the consequences were obviously much worse than he would ever know based on her brief retelling of the situation—and he couldn’t necessarily make it better, he was grateful she wasn’t hurt by someone else.
“Okay,” she gasped again trying to regulate her breathing. “Sorry,” she said awkwardly. “I’m forwarding you the email—” shaky breath, “—I sent my professor and his responses so you can see the progression of our talk,” punctuated sniffle, “so you know why I have these certain cases.”
“Thank you, kitten,” he murmured quietly. His heart broke a bit more hearing each hitch in her voice as she spoke. “Have a great night.”
“You too,” she responded quietly.
“Oh, love?” He said quickly right before she hung up.
“Yes?” She sniffled.
“Thank you for the meeting today. Y’did a great job. I’m...” he chuckled. “I’m so proud of you,” he told her. “I couldn’t say it in the meeting, of course... But m’really, really proud of you. I don’t think s’an exaggeration t’say y’saved a huge piece of the company. It was very impressive.”
Her heart felt like it was breaking all over again. “Thank you.”
“Sleep well, love,” once he hung up, she finally released all the cathartic cries and tears she bottled up since Louis spoke to her.
*
As good as her day was after the meeting—where she felt she actually, confidently did well—the following day was equally (if not worse to the same degree) terrible.
It started off okay. She was still riding her good day high from yesterday all morning. Niall was out of the office on many meetings and calls thanks to her. All of which he was grateful they were even happening, and he periodically sent her messages saying he was really looking forward to his afternoon coffee because he had been so busy, and it was all thanks to her. Since Harry stole the phone from him the night before he still hadn’t gotten a chance to congratulate her in person on one of the most amazing meetings he had ever been to.
She always looked forward to coffee. Mostly because she would catch a glimpse of Harry when she delivered his tea to him and after having such a good day yesterday, and impressing him at that, she was really looking forward to seeing him for a minute. Especially before their movie night tonight.
However, returning with their afternoon coffee was exactly when her day turned sour. Her coffee didn’t taste very good. It was minor, but it dampened the thrill of getting Starbucks.
Additionally, her bank sent her a message asking if she had purchased $200 worth of merchandise overseas. “Oh, fuck,” she hissed as she set the tray of drinks on her desk while she replied to the message. So now she had no debit card for a week and she wasn't big on using her credit card if she could help it. So much so that she left it at home unless she was traveling.
But those were still minor inconveniences in comparison to the remainder of her afternoon. She delivered her tea to Harry’s office as she always did at the same time and frowned as he wasn’t there. Not wanting to look like a psycho stalker, she exited his office quickly, leaving the tea on his desk and made her way back to her office.
She never really brought it up around Harry and Niall, but as part of her university’s end of the deal at this internship, she had to write reflections periodically about her time at Styles Incorporated. Therefore, when she didn’t have anything pressing on her plate from Niall, she would write a few sentences here and there on her personal laptop.
But her laptop didn’t turn on.
“Okay...” she sighed rubbing her hand on her forehead as she planned her next steps to buy a new laptop...without debit card access to her account.
“He won’t sleep with you.”
Her head snapped up to the sound of the woman that clearly disliked her from yesterday. She still didn’t know her name. “Pardon?” She shook her head in surprise.
“Harry,” she stated rolling her eyes. She stood in her doorway of the small little office inspecting it with distaste. It was small but perfect in her eyes. To this woman however, it was a garbage can. Her nose practically upturned as if it had the same stench as trash. “He won’t sleep with you,” she repeated.
She blinked as if she had misheard her. “Wh-what?”
“The whole innocent-look on you is overdone and tiring,” she said. “Harry doesn’t sleep with people that work for him. Especially the interns.”
Her lips parted in shock. “I don’t—”
“Everyone wants to sleep with him,” she rolled her eyes. It sounded like she tried and failed. “Don’t think just because you’re all buddy buddy with his best friend and second in command that you’re special. There have been plenty of interns before you and there will be plenty after. You’re not special. Harry doesn’t fuck plain girls.”
Her heart shattered and she felt her face warm in complete embarrassment, but she couldn’t move or speak.
While she trusted Harry way more than she trusted this woman who obviously had it out for her, it was her worst fears said out loud. She knew she was plain. She knew that people like Harry didn’t go for girls like her—especially when he had done this before, and she was already so insecure about how she looked and how their companionship worked. “Just because you had one good idea doesn’t make you special or smarter than the rest of us,” she repeated.
She wasn’t special. She heard it loud and clear over and over.
“I’m sorry,” she said because what else was she supposed to say?
“Pathetic,” she snorted, rolled her eyes, and like a movie, she bumped into her desk and spilled her coffee clean across her already broken laptop, all over her desk, and spilled some onto her skirt. Perhaps the only highlight of the day was that her skirt was plain black, and the coffee tasted bad. So, it wouldn’t stain obviously for everyone else to see with the remainder of the workday...and it wasn’t a waste of coffee. She gasped at the coldness, but she supposed it was better than hot coffee. Make that the third highlight. The coffee spilled from her desk to the floor, and she glanced back up and the woman was gone.
She got up in hurry to head to the breakroom, get paper towels and try to calm herself. But of course, she slipped a bit on the spilled coffee whacking her arm so hard on her desk she was sure it would bruise. That was the last straw.
She sat in a heap on the floor for a moment trying to process the last hour of work and how good yesterday was compared to how horrible right now was. “Hey darling, how’s my schedule look this afternoon?” Niall called breezing by her little space, and she didn’t even realize she was crying and still sitting next to a dripping puddle of coffee when Niall turned back from his desk and coffee to see her sitting there. “Darling, you okay?” He asked nervously. She stood and sniffled shaking her head. Smoothed her soaked skirt and pretended like she was fine not looking toward Niall.
“Yeah,” she sniffed awkwardly. “Spilled my coffee.” She was no snitch.
“Oh, jeez. Sorry, darling. I’ll go get you some paper towels—”
“No, s’fine. My mess,” she mumbled, and she tried to use the mouse for the desktop but since coffee covered the length of her desk it wouldn’t move fast enough for her to click through. “Uh...” she shook her head. “I’m sorry...” she croaked. “My computer—”
“Hey,” Niall said gently, and his voice was closer. He was right behind her. “S’alright, don’t... Hey,” he said grabbing her wrist as she tried to figure it out, tried to find a solution like she always did. “Darling,” he cooed.
It broke her. It was too much, so much of the day went wrong so quickly it threw her. Niall’s quiet voice was kindly soothing, and it was all she could take in that moment. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered.
“Oh, hey,” he sighed and turned her around and wrapped his arms around her comfortingly. She accepted it because she felt like if she didn’t her body would give out. She pressed her hands over her eyes as he held her and gently rocked. He didn’t pay any mind to the coffee that was probably getting on him yet again because of her. Her arm ached and she just wanted to go home so bad. “Shh, it’s okay,” he promised, and she shook her head. “Hey, what happened, love?” He asked gripping her shoulders and pushing her back a bit so he could try and look into her eyes. She shook her head.
“S’nothing.”
“Darling, it doesn’t look like nothing—”
She sniffled more and kept the part of her face covered. “It’s so stupid,” she hiccupped feeling like an idiot for crying in front of her boss.
“I’m sure it’s not,” he said encouragingly and pulled her back to his chest so he could let her cry. And she did for a good minute feeling the slightest bit relief.
But then naturally her day got even worse.
“Niall, I thought you—” instinctively, she ripped away from Niall her face warming as Harry saw how cozy Niall got holding her. Comforting her. She dared a glance at Harry.
For the first time in six months, he looked mad at her. “Sorry,” she whispered to Niall...or Harry. She was sorry regardless. There was nothing to apologize for, but she remembered when Harry saw Niall squeeze her arm. This was a thousand times worse.
“Yeah, sorry,” Niall shrugged. “We—”
“What’s wrong?” Harry wondered but his voice was tight. The air was so tense it felt like she couldn’t breathe. He wanted to be worried. She could feel it. Him asking was a chance to clear up the comforting. She should have just said it. But there was jealousy and sadness blocking his concern for her. It made her so anxious she felt tongue tied.
“She—”
“Let her talk,” Harry snapped. Niall may have been his best friend but that meant he knew when to speak and when to stay silent.
“It’s nothing,” she whispered.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” he ground out.
“Harry, stop,” Niall said immediately coming to her defense.
“Then tell me what’s wrong,” she didn’t look up, so she didn’t know Harry was staring at her. Waiting for her response. It never came. Her lower lip wobbled, and she glanced at Harry momentarily. Long enough to see how angry he was.
But she didn’t miss the hurt hiding in his beautiful, sad green eyes. “I’m fine, it’s nothing.”
“Your turn,” he spat at Niall. Harry wasn’t thinking rationally because all he saw was the sweet girl sobbing into the arms of his best friend. He was upset about the company stuff, even with her brilliant idea it was still nerve wracking to have so much of what he spent most of his 20s on, in such a fragile state. Topped with the girl that clouded all his dreams upset and crying to Niall...all his irrational brain could think was that they fell in love working in such close proximity to one another. Plus, Niall was often more even-tempered and nicer than Harry was on a regular basis.
He scoffed at Harry. “Harry, no way,” Niall shook his head. “You know—”
“Apparently, I don’t know fucking anything,” he snarled. She visibly flinched at his tone. She shook her head, but Niall beat her to the punch. Besides, she couldn’t defend herself even if she tried to talk because it would be lost on broken sobs.
“Jesus Christ, Harry, don’t be a dick,” Niall rolled his eyes. Obviously if it was anyone but Niall he would have been fired on the spot. But as his best friend he supposed he had perks. “She was crying when I got here. She won’t even tell me what’s—”
He didn’t even let Niall finish. “My office,” he snapped and stormed out of the room.
She had a whole new set of tears flowing and she covered her face again. “Darling, don’t,” Niall rolled his eyes and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “He’s...he’s just the jealous type,” he whispered. “He’ll cool off. “Don’t stress,” he promised and headed out the door.
Once he left, she let herself have a small pity party while the coffee continued to pool on her desk and floor. Eventually, eyes cast toward the floor, she grabbed paper towels and started cleaning. On her hands and knees, she sniffled and wiped up the mess under her desk and she heard her phone vibrate from on top of her desk. It was Harry. Her heart rate increased rapidly, and her hands shook as she opened the message.
Don’t come over tonight.
Her heart broke.
*
Niall was unapologetically kind to her as the bad Thursday turned into a bad Friday. If wearing a skirt that didn’t stain was the highlight of her day yesterday, today it was Niall kindly asking nothing of her and reassuring her every time she forgot some simple tasks was today’s highlight. She blamed Harry entirely for her restless sleep. Makeup could only do so much to hide the dark circles and bags that accumulated beneath her tear-reddened lash line.
Niall closed her office door to block out the hall and everyone from the rest of the floor. “You okay, darling?”
“He hates me,” she whispered.
“He is an idiot,” he said seriously. “You shouldn’t even forgive him.” She appreciated Niall’s effort, but it was lost on her with how sad she was. It felt like they were breaking up and they weren’t even together. “Can you tell me what happened? I can help,” he promised.
She shook her head. “Nothing,” she mumbled.
She should have just told him about the stupid, mean woman from the meeting. Niall would have probably marched right to Harry’s office requesting authority to fire her. Which was exactly what she didn’t want. He sighed sadly. “Alright, well...m’gonna just give you some space. Don’t worry about anything. Just take it easy...or go home early.”
She nodded. “Maybe after coffee,” she mumbled.
“Sure, darling. Whatever you want. You’ve earned it. Whatever it is.”
Niall grabbed his laptop, his bag, everything like he wouldn’t be back either. “Niall,” she whispered.
“Yes, darling?” He still gave her space not looking even though he wanted to assure her that everything was fine.
“He’s gonna fire me,” she sniffled.
Niall shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’d quit.”
She snorted a breath of laughter. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “Go home and sleep, love. That’s official intern work,” he said.
She nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize for his idiocy,” he shook his head. “Don’t give him all this credit. You have made his life so much better and if he wants to be mad then he should know of all people it shouldn’t be directed at you.”
She felt her lips tremble with a bout of fresh tears ready to spill. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, darling. I hope you tell me soon so I can help.”
She nodded but said nothing.
*
She texted Niall that she left his coffee and Harry’s tea on his desk. Then she messaged Louis and Eleanor.
Are you guys around? I’m heading home early.
It’s anniversary weekend, babe!
Shit.
Oh fuck, I am so sorry. Of course. I’m just feeling a little cloudy. Heading home. Have a great time. I love you both so much :)
She was impressed with her hiding skills. Thankfully, texting was a lot easier to hide her emotions. She walked home from the office. It was over two miles, but it would be cleansing, and she could always call for an uber if she got tired.
Maybe go to Harry’s if you’re feeling poorly, Louis suggested. She closed her eyes and sighed, wishing she could.
Yeah, good idea!
She assumed Louis would see right through that given she hadn’t once thought to purposefully bother Harry once in six months. So, she assumed the call that vibrated in her hand was Louis.
“Listen, I’m really—”
“Who the fuck answers a phone like that?”
No, no, no. NO. Her stomach dropped to her feet, and she froze mid step. The person walking behind her bumped into her, but she stood stalk still as the voice at the other end of the line processed through her ear drum. Her jaw dropped open, it felt like it would unhinge from the shock.
This could not be the same terrible day. What came after terrible? That was the word she needed right now to describe the last twenty four hours.
“Mom,” she breathed.
“Your father is dying,” she stated. “Not sure if you care. But thought you’d want to know in case you wanted to cash in on your inheritance,” she snipped. Her words were clipped, clear. Not slurred or confused at all. She wondered if it was hurting her to not have alcohol in her system. She heard the distinct sound of hospital beeps in the background.
It felt like someone was ripping her heart directly from her chest. “I’m sorry, what?” She whispered.
“For the love of God,” she hissed. “Your father is dying. Say goodbye if you want.”
The call ended.
Her hands were shaking. She somehow managed to put the phone in her bag. She was suddenly extremely aware of how cold it was. Or maybe it was the feeling in her chest.
She turned on her heel and headed back for the building. Work was the only thing that was going to occupy her mind but really, she just wanted to see someone who cared for her at that moment. For the first time in six months, she came to the sobering conclusion that she was really alone. There was no one to help her because there was no one that cared for her in that way anymore. Anyone currently in her life would find her bothersome and she couldn’t do that to them.
She couldn’t. She couldn’t see anyone. Niall was giving her space—and in turn appeasing Harry. Regardless of how much he liked her, he was still her boss. She couldn’t expect his comfort. Her brother was dead, and her dad was soon to be. Even if he wasn’t, her dad and mom hated her since her brother died. Louis and Eleanor were her best friends, but they had lives to live; she couldn’t bother them on their anniversary while they were out of town.
And Harry…
Well, Harry hated her guts.
--
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Buck & Eddie: Two emergencies in 7x1 illustrated Buck hasn’t dealt with his death
It appears the first call with the older onery couple and the second call with the burned car relate to Buck’s death and they seem to illustrate how he’s not over it yet.
These are my OBSERVATIONS and INTERPRETATIONS of two scenes included in 7x1 and other people’s may differ since everyone consumes and interprets media differently.
Now back to the regularly scheduled program…
Before I delve into this, I have to mention that I don’t think Buck’s over his death yet. Does he want to be? Yes but the fact is he hasn’t dealt with it and the first two emergencies in 7x1 alluded to it.
For those who read my post about my frustrations surrounding the fact that TM (showrunner) said Buck was tired of talking about death and he just wants to be happy (linked here), I’ve elaborated on why I believe he hasn’t dealt with it yet in this post. I found two things in the first episode of season 7 that seems to prove my theory associated with the way TM might be saving Buck dealing with the fact that he ACTUALLY DIED in season 6 until after 7x6 airs since that’s Maddie’s wedding and the Buckley parents are scheduled to return.
I live blogged during last week’s episode but while doing so, I noticed so many things that I wanted to expound on but I wanted to analyze them first to see how they connected to previous seasons and episodes. I watched the episode three more times for multiple reasons but mainly because I wanted to make sure I understood all the callbacks, hindsight, metaphors and foreshadowing. This post will not include everything I found because it’s a lot but I will do several posts to cover the others.
While Buck and Eddie were in the locker room talking, Buck said all ND wanted to talk about was his death, it got boring after a while and he didn’t know why he thought dating a dEaTh DoUlA was a good idea. Eddie responded, “Well you had just died” but then he said something else that caused me to pause because it was JARRING. He said, “Welcome back to the land of the living Buck, you were missed” (more on this topic below).
Be clear, I’M GLAD SHE’S GONE AND I WISH THE SHOW WOULDN’T HAVE SHOVED THEM INTO A RELATIONSHIP. If she would have helped Buck with the fact that he died like she was supposed to then all that screen time spent on whatever they had in season 6 could have been used to SHOW how he arrived at a point of just wanting to be happy at the beginning of season 7 but the audience didn’t get that. The truth is, if he wasn’t opening up and talking about it (it’s likely he wasn’t since he’s not in therapy) then of course it got boring for him because he was doing what he always does, avoiding dealing with his own issues by trying to fix everyone else’s. Reminder, he’s the guy who likes to fix things except for when it’s his own problems. He avoids them the same way he avoided moving on from AC in season 2 which equates to the way he avoided talking to TK for a week so he wouldn’t have to break up with her at the end of season 5.
Also, Buck hides his true feelings and he said so in 4x2 when he was in a FaceTime therapy session with Dr. Copeland. He said, “How I hide my true feelings from others”. Additionally, in 6x15, he told Eddie, “The truth is I am different. But I feel like I have to be the same old Buck, mostly for the sake of everyone else.” These two statements he made along with the way he avoids things further substantiates the fact that Buck is hiding the way he really feels about his death and he’s pretending to be happy.
IMO, the first and second emergencies in 7x1 the 118 was dispatched to appeared to show where Buck is mentally. I’ll start with the chair and the car metaphors in this post because they’re the ones I couldn't forget when I watched live. After my initial viewing, I kept wondering why the man in the first call was not only sitting in a reclining chair but he was ALSO TRAPPED IN IT. Additionally, I couldn’t get over the fact that Buck and Eddie were the only two on the scene of the second call with that burned car. Not only was the car destroyed from the inside out; it was the question the owner of the car asked Buck that I couldn’t forget. The chair and the car are the two items I’ll expound on in this post to illustrate how they relate to Buck’s death and I’ll include my opinion to explain how they might relate to what could possibly happen with him before the end of the season.
Call #1
Do these two GIFs look familiar?
They should because Buck and Abe are both sitting in arm chairs that are suited for only one person and they mirror the way Buck’s life could end up if he lives it the way other people want him to instead of him living it the way he wants to. The darker color in the suede of Abe's chair is similar to the color of Buck's leather chair. Also, Abe's chair is outdated but he still uses it so he doesn't have to deal with Edna.
In 7x1, Abe just wanted to be at EASE with his life while sitting and relaxing in his chair but his wife wouldn’t let him. He was trying to watch TV but she kept knit picking at everything he was doing. She was doing the whole “pay attention to me or else I’ll force you to do it and make your life a living hell while I'm at it” dynamic and it was annoying AF. They had been married for more than 30 years and they never had any kids but they were also miserable. They hated each other and it appears they were in a marriage neither of them wanted to be in. After the 118 arrived, Edna said, “He loves that chair more than the loves me”.
Furthermore, they had a couch in their home but it was just sitting there which means ABE REFUSED TO SIT ON IT WITH HER. He told Chimney the fighter jet should have put one of them out of their misery.
Was the depiction of their relationship reminiscent of one from season 5? YES!
In 6x1, Bobby told Buck he needed to take inventory of his life so he could be at EASE and when he did, he sat in his chair but at the time, since he had already given TK the boot, he didn’t have to worry about her doing to him what Edna spent 30 years doing to Abe. If Buck would have kept on clinging to TK, then that could have been his fate. TK was shallow and wanted all the attention on herself the same way Edna did and she proved it with her raggedy and immoral journalistic behaviors. She had planned to throw the 118 under the bus in 2x6 but she didn’t get the chance to do it then since the LAFD’s lawyers were more powerful than her news station’s lawyers. However, she jumped at the opportunity to do it a second time in season 5 when she didn’t have anyone to stop her.
Abe’s relationship with Edna gave the audience a future flash forward of where Buck could end up if he follows what some GA viewers want him to do. Before he died, in 6x2, Lev told him his life went by in a blur and it was the reason he went to the happiness convention with his friends. Abe chose the life he felt like he was expected to live with a wife and a house too but based on the way he was acting; it clearly wasn’t something he would have chosen for himself. And he was so far from being at ease that he was miserable.
Additionally, Edna was a combination of every woman Buck’s ever dated. She was older and had red hair which coincides with AC. She didn’t care about what Abe was doing because she wanted him to do what she wanted which coincides with TK and also, she had red hair. She was frustrated with him and what he was doing which correlates her to AM, reminder she didn’t like Buck’s job which is the reason why she left him with a cast on his leg after the ladder truck explosion. Finally, ND was fascinated by Buck’s death the same way Edna was fascinated by the fact that Abe might not be ok. She cared more about the chair being out of her house than she did about his well-being. Their lives were miserable but instead of ending their relationship, they clung to each other just like Buck and TK did in season 5.
IMO, the couple represented the life Buck would have if he follows the path some people in the GA want him to. Believe it or not, there are still viewers who want everyone to do things the way they did them, i.e., get married, have a house, have kids and work a job until they die and instead of wanting Buck and Eddie to experience the true love they clearly share to flourish and grow, for WhAtEvEr ReAsOnS, they’d rather they stay in relationships with the women who wronged, abandoned and ignored them. It appears they're choosing not to see how much they love each other and they would prefer them to “stick it out” in relationships with people who clearly make them miserable.
Reminder, in 6x15, Buck told Eddie, “I still don't know how to act. I am different but I feel like I have to be the same old Buck, mostly for the sake of everyone else” and I’ve always believed he was saying that directly to the audience. It was aimed at the women who wanted him to keep waiting around for AC or those who wanted him to stay with AM because she had an adult conversation with him before she dipped. Then there are those who wanted him to stay with TK because she was career driven (that’s a bunch of BS because journalists can be driven in their careers without being immoral, vindictive, callous or using people to get popular by writing a crappy book) and then there are those who wanted Buck to stay with ND (I know this may be hard to believe but there are posts that indicate “he knew what he was getting into when he dated her” 🙄). Like seriously, they wanted him to stay with her because in their minds, she was perfect for him but haven’t all his girlfriend’s stans said that? They have and the question they should ask themselves is, why haven’t any of Buck’s relationships worked (related post linked here and here) instead of acting like the women who treated him poorly deserved to stick around. Also, Buck’s a ticking time bomb waiting to explode the same way that dummy bomb would have if it had gone off. However, just like on the call, Eddie’s going to be there for Buck but it’s unclear when or if he’ll be able to stop it from happening.
Call #2
The burned car was still smoldering but it was also hollow and charred to the core. IMO, it was included as a call that only Buck and Eddie were allowed to extinguish as a way to illustrate how it’ll take both of them working together to repair Buck’s charred, burned and smoldering insides. Reminder, in 6x10 he was struck by lightning and he died which means he’s probably feeling hollow on the inside and I think he feels all cored out just like that burned car. While they were in the locker room, it appeared he was ready to talk to Eddie about the way he feels which is the reason why he may have invited him to go out so they could be alone and he could speak freely. But he backed off when Eddie mentioned “Big date” and reminder, Buck was the one who assumed Eddie had a date with M (more on this below) but Eddie was talking about Chris' date.
After Eddie left, the audience didn’t see Buck leave so apparently, he went somewhere but who knows where since he wasn’t shown again until the next time they were at work. If they had gone together, it would have been a date but IIRC, other than the poker date in 6x13, every time Buck and Eddie hung out in the past, they were at Buck's loft or at Eddie’s house. Additionally, Eddie admitted he’s a nester which means he’s ok with them staying in like they did when they played video games and drank beer in the past. The one time they went to a bar together in 3x11 doesn’t count as a date because the rest of the 118 was there with Albert. I think Buck was extending an olive branch and trying to let Eddie know he needed him the same way Eddie tried to let Buck know he needed him before his breakdown in season 5 but when he finally broke, Chris called Buck and he came running. I’ve always wondered how it will play out if Buck breaks down while he’s alone in the loft and I have an idea of how it will happen but I haven’t decided if I’ll post it on here.
When they were done, the car owner asked, “Is it a total loss or is…?” and Buck responded, “Uh… not total.” then he smiled, held up a pine tree fragranced car freshener, which is symbolic of an actual family tree because of the ROOTS, then said, “Have a good day”. Buck’s biological family roots are about to come into question AGAIN (related post about the Buckley parents other deep dark family secret linked here) and guess what? When they do, it’s going to rock him to his CORE and the only person who’ll be able to help him is EDDIE! Buck’s not a total loss as the phrasing in the scene alluded to and Eddie KNOWS that! However, Buck will need for Eddie to tell him that over and over again until he starts to believe it.
I think the confrontation OS mentioned that’s supposed to occur between Buck and Eddie will be in relation to Buck’s self-worth and how he views himself. There are a lot of people who want to move on from the fact that Buck died and rightfully so since he along with the viewers had to endure an entire season of him not dealing with his issues. But the truth is 9-1-1 hasn’t moved on from it either and even though TM said Buck’s ready to find happiness, the fact still remains that Buck hasn’t dealt with the reality of his own death.
IMO, he will find happiness when he’s in a relationship with Eddie and reminder, Eddie’s the one who’s always trying to encourage him. He did it in 7x1 too after Buck said, “You don’t want him to end up like me” but Eddie was quick to respond, “You didn’t end up like you”. It was soft, pure and so full of love that it took Buck’s breath away.
Now be honest, would AC, AM, TK or ND have said that to him? The answer NO!
I stand by the things I included in a previous post because Connor and Kameron are supposed to return some time around or after 7x5 and that’s when I believe the proverbial $hit regarding Buck’s self-worth will hit the fan since it’s likely they’ll have some devastating news for him about the baby. Then the Buckley parents are set to return for Maddie’s wedding and nothing good ever happens to Buck when they do so it's looking like a trifecta of bad news for Buck (related post linked here).
Other than the time he spent talking to Chris at Eddie’s house, Buck was only shown at work during the entire episode and I believe that was on purpose. It’s unclear when he’ll be shown in the loft again but when he is, that could be when the audience sees he’s not doing as well as he’s trying to get people to believe. It’s likely the way he really feels about the fact that he died will be shown and if he feels like that burned car… it’s not going to be pretty or pleasant.
Eddie KNOWS Buck’s not doing well but he’s not going to push him to talk just like he didn’t in 6x12. He’s going to wait until Buck’s ready then, he’ll have the heart-to-heart talk with him the same way he always does. Reminder, Eddie takes care of Buck (post linked here) while Buck listens to Eddie and makes him talk (post linked here). In 7x1, Eddie said, “Welcome back to the land of the living Buck. You were missed” and I kept wondering why he phrased it like that but then I realized it’s because he knows Buck hasn’t confronted the fact that he died but he’s not going to push him, he’ll wait until he says he’s ready then Eddie will be there to take care of him like he always is.
Make no mistake, Buck’s happiness is with Eddie but he thinks he’s off limits since he’s “dating” M (please understand I don’t think Eddie and M are "seriously dating" and that's based on RG's responses about the character of M in his interviews. I’ll do a separate post on it explaining how the show and the actors have explained it in so many words).
TM used two BOLD contrasts in the first episode, a chair and a car, to show Buck has to deal with his death and it’s likely he'll continue to include these types of metaphors until he does. Also, TM's comment about Buck being tired of talking about dying seems to be a bait and switch and he's trying to get viewers to look away from Buck’s death so they’ll forget he’s been hiding it, then they’ll be blindsided by it when he finally breaks. Reminder, after the Madney wedding, there will still be 4 episodes left in the season and what exactly will TM fill them with🧐?
Will Buck finally deal with the fact that he died this season since he didn't in season 6? Who knows but based on the chair and the car, it appears his process of dealing with it has just begun.
#buddie#eddie diaz#evan buckley#the buckley diaz family#buckley diaz family#911 on abc#911 abc#911 meta#911 spoilers#911 speculation#911 season 7#911 season 7 speculation#oliver stark#ryan guzman#anti natalia dollenmeyer#anti bucktalia#anti taylor kelly#anti bucktaylor
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Sci ngl i assumed you were a cis gay dude back when i was obsessively reading your spiderpool stuff as a teenager. I’m a gay trans man and your comics always felt like a warm hug, truly my comfort doom scrolling — so it’s kinda nice to find out we’re more similar than id thought
bless you anon!! it's a pleasure having you, and i'm so, so glad my comics can be a cozy comfort for you!! kissing you so sweetly
you know, it's kind of funny, i've had an overwhelming response of people who've said they've just assumed i was male by the vibes i radiate and i'm not entirely sure what it means. i'm know you all mean it very reaffirmingly but it leaves me with a lot of questions. like, questions that i want to do further research into.
is there a masculine dialect? like how there are regional dialects? is that a thing? i kind of want to study this now. can you tell someone's gender by the way they talk like you can tell where they're from? that is so cool if it's true. how do you type like a man. what should i look for? i don't know if i've ever assumed someone's gender by the way they type. i just look at their bio and it usually says. and i kind of don't think about it when i type. i type like me. but – i think maybe i pick up the way that i talk from the media i consume (comic books) which is kind of overpoweringly male. overpoweringly populated by male characters, and written by men, y'know.
i think the way i type here on @sciderman is probably softer and more femme than the way i write on the ask-blog. on the blog when i'm answering things as Mod i kind of intentionally mimic the tone-of-voice that marvel editors use. that's an intentional choice. so - when you read what i write here it's closer to my real voice, but over on ask-spiderpool i'm putting on an act. i try to sound like a marvel editor. i call you all True Believers! it's all a persona. i think one of the things that's my strength in writing is falling into voices - i think i could be an excellent ghostwriter, if i needed to be. so very crafty at mimicry.
as a kid i always, always always would mimic the characters i liked from the movies we watched whenever i came out of the cinema. i remember doing that all the time. and it was always boys. (except frenchie from grease. she was my one female gender icon. god everyone hated me for that one. i loved doing the voice. wanted to be her so bad. wanted the pink hair. everything.)
you know,, even now The Very First thing anyone asks me when they meet me is where my accent is from, because nobody believes i'm native to london. it happened today (twice). the way i talk is a little weird. my response,, off the bat,, it's because i watched too many cartoons growing up. so,, i guess maybe i idolised too many masculine role models, and probably didn't have enough female role models. i liked the boy movies better than the girl ones. i spent more time with my dad than i did with my mom. my mom wasn't a good role model. dad says that's probably why i didn't want to be a woman. i didn't have a good role model. (sorry mom). (he's right). all kinds of variables here. i kind of want to do research into it. also i should talk to a therapist.
#sci speaks#i remember talking to someone about wade's gender feelings and how they're a result of trauma with his mother's death etc etc and.#they said it was bad of me to write that. like it's a cliché and he doesn't need trauma to feel that way. and i think that's true. but.#trauma does impact things like this.#it's just a sad truth. some quirky little bits of your identity probably do come out of some freudian thing. some childhood trauma.#some detail about your relationship with your parents.#shut UP freud stop being right about things. you suck!!!!
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TEE/IVORY The Disgraced One, her hypocrisy and her antiblackness: a post
I said I was going to make this post if @/saetoru ever showed her face on this app. And here we are now @ctrltoru-main
In January 2024, a tumblr thread exposing the now disgraced tumblr writer @/saintsugu was posted by an anonymous account named @/user-anon. User-anon exposed this man for engaging with shota art and art sexualizing ed. Other users came out and exposed more of his racially insensitive past as well as his problematic attitudes. The general public was against this behavior and it was a massive call out.
Good right? Problem solved. Let’s go home.
Not even up to 3 days later, an account known as @/criticalthoughts came out. Now this account was different, because unlike everyone condemning @/saintsugu, this person came to his defense. As of now, @/criticalthoughts has deactivated and all their inflammatory works have disappeared into the abyss. All except one.
@/saetoru - currently now @/ctrltoru-main had reblogged the first ever post of @/critcialthoughts, which I am eternally grateful for, because now that debauchery is out here for us to see. Tee, an infamous tumblr who was disgraced out of the writing community and remains a pariah, had come out of the wood works to say something in defense of Ezra.
Now, I don’t need to introduce Tee or Ivory to you people. If you read this post you would know that Tee the disgraced one, is already, to put it nicely, a terrible person. Talking about her is like beating a dead horse. Except this one has refused to die in peace and actively inserts herself into spaces she isn’t needed in.
Now, if the above post by Emmie that I linked here isn’t enough to convince you on why Ivory/Tee should not be welcomed back to any community in tumblr, then I’m sure that her shitty defense for Ezra, the response to people calling her out for her shitty defense, Tee’s antiblackness and her cult of antiblack followers as well as her lack of regard for the genocide going on in her country - all which I am about to get into, will.
Tee/Ivory defending Ezra’s accusations: A summary
Now if you’re like me and you have a short attention span for bullshit, then you won’t want to read whatever nonsense came out from Tee on that post.
But for fairness sake, I’ve decided I'll link Tee’s arguments as I break them down one by one, before I get into what I want to say. You can choose if you want to read the post and the summary or you want to read only the summary.
Paragraph 1: Victims of assault know what a predator looks like.
As a victim of assault:
She has been silenced to pretend nothing is wrong.
She has experienced rape culture first hand.
She also asserts you have to see it with your own 2 eyes to know the real harm.
She implies that she knows the patterns of sexual predators.
Paragraph 2:
Premise (a): It is simply not logical to assert that Ezra is a pedo
Art so far (depicting Shotatoru. and shotadori. Shotagetou. Come on, I’m losing creative names for these) is the only proof of this claim.
People jumped into conclusions -allegedly- because of said content, as far as taking legal actions.She asserts that there is no connection of shota art to pedophilia.
Said shotatoru art is not enough evidence for pedophilia because it is fictional.
She also asserts that majority of the people who jumped into said conclusion acted on emotional impulse
Premise 2(b): People who did accuse Ezra of being a pedophile are acting selfishly.
Asserts that they are not real victims
Asserts that they do not listen to real victims like her.
Asserts that they do not listen to authorities who work on such cases.
Asserts that they are acting in their own sense of justice.
Paragraph 4: Dark content is dark content
Dark content portrays a lot of themes we are uncomfortable with and it is made to explore topics without harming anyone.
Dark content is not used to determine moral standing
No dark content creator is in a place to judge Ezra or draw a line on morality. Simply because they create dark content.
Tee’s concluding points:
Emotions have led people to believe that Ezra finds gratification for such content.
She talks about not knowing what pedophilia is, as we are not real victims and disrespecting real victims. Again.
Calling Ezra a pedophile is hate speech. We have zero proof to harass him - No the shotadori art is not proof- that will stand in a courtroom.
We are driving people off this app and enabling hostility. Also Ezra’s anti-blackness is just a rumor.
The important thing is art is not pedophilia and pedophilia is not art.
My Analysis;
Let me first start by being empathetic to you Tee/Ivory, even if you don’t deserve it. I will never undermine your experience as a victim. As a survivor of CSA, I know that your lines on rape culture is true and real. It’s painful that you had to go through that and I feel empathy for you.
Grace period over.
If you didn’t read my paragraph summaries, I’ll just give you the gist of Tee’s post here.
“As a real victim of child sexual assault, Tee knows what a predator looks like, therefore, according to Tee’s judgement, accusing Ezra of being a pedophile is illogical because the content he viewed was not real CP. Those who label him as such are acting out of selfishness and their claims are invalid because they are not real victims. Also, dark content is too abstract to accuse someone of anything and no dark content creator has a right to draw a line.”
Ivory/ Tee does have a point here. We did jump the gun on calling Ezra a pedo. We just judged based on art, thinking that he’s a pedo for looking at and engaging in Shota art. She makes a good point by saying that we don’t know what we are talking about.
I’m very sure if we even check or compare the definition, it won’t even mean the same thing. There is no know connections of shotacon to pedophilia, even in real life court cases.
So, let’s educate ourselves on what pedophilia is, shall we?
If we look at the English definition, it defines pedophiles as: “A person aged 16 years old or older who is mostly or only sexually attracted toward prepubescent children. (by extension, common use) An adult who is sexually attracted to or engages in sexual acts with a child…”
And if we look at the definition of Shotacon: “A sexual complex where an adult is attracted to young, typically prepubescent boys, or the fictional depictions thereof.” or “hentai anime or manga, or other Japanese-inspired erotic art featuring young, usually prepubescent boys.”
“a fictional young boy character, especially one featured in such material. Typically drawn with exaggerated or stylised cute features.”
Wait a minute.
Let’s look at Wikipedia maybe they’ll give us a different definition: “Pedophilia is a psychiatric disorder in which an adult or older adolescent experiences a primary or exclusive sexual attraction to prepubescent children.”
Okay, US legal: “Pedophiles are people with a sexual attraction to children. Manifest acts, such as taking sexually explicit photographs, molesting children and exposing one's genitalia to children, are all crimes.”
Okay, okay, Britannica: “Pedophilia, in conventional usage, a psychosexual disorder, generally affecting adults, characterized by sexual interest in prepubescent children or attempts to engage in sexual acts with prepubescent children.”
Oh. By definition, every thing found on Ezra’s twitter account would qualify him -not just english wise but legally as a child-lover.
Okay, you can still argue that there are no real life accusations linking shotacon art to being a predator. Except, that’s not the case:
A particular case of a man in Virginia who was arrested for looking at shota/loli art. This was an added charge, to downloading CP in his hard drive and assaulting an 11 year old. He was supposed to be banned from the internet, but had used shota/loli as replacement for CP, thinking the authorities wouldn’t notice.
I could go on and on about cases linked to this, but then again I would again be beating a dead horse.
So Tee, you woke up. You took your device without doing ANY research. Came on tumblr.com and started to type a poorly researched, poorly thought out post in response to the bullshit @/criticitalthoughts posted.
Because if we stand by what you said about it not standing in court, we know that is bullshit. If Ezra stood before a law court today, he would register as a sex offender.
Now, let’s come down to you weaponizing your victimhood:
As you notice if you read what Tee said, you will notice phrases such as “As a real victim” “real victim like herself” “People who are outraged are not real victims”
You will also notice her little blurb about Dark content creators not being moral enough to draw a line.
There is actually a name for that behavior. It is known as Virtuous Victim Signaling. For those who don’t know, virtuous victim signaling is basically claiming victimhood whilst demonstrating a sense of moral superiority in order to gain approval or favor.
What Tee has effectively done in her blurb is not only state that those who had valid concerns about Ezra’s predatory fetishes are not real victims - most like myself are actually survivors, as well as condemn other dark content creators who are also majorly survivors, as hypocrites, she has also put herself in a sort of moral high ground as a “non bully” or “anti witch hunt”
By portraying herself as the only victim in this situation, she has stripped other survivors not only of their experiences, but also of any form of empathy or understanding we are meant to have for the survivors' concerns. This is not the first time Tee has exhibited this behavior, as we see when she is confronted with bullying accusations (that turned out to be true) and her turning it around to make it seem like she’s the one affected instead of taking any form of accountability.
And it’s funny how Tee/Ivory loves to talk about witch hunts and bullying when you are single-handedly responsible for pushing out four writers from this app with false accusations, lying on your friend about blackfishing, outing Emmie’s new account on your callout post -an account that was supposed to be private mind you, lying and subposting that people were copying your blog’s aesthetic and plagiarizing your fics, inciting death threats on your own mutuals, bullying a black muslim who called you out on defending Ezra’s actions and deflecting his situation and posting her account name so that people harass her.
You also mention something very interesting in your post Tee:
As far as I remember Tee/Ivory, you had a burner blog that you used to harrass your mutuals. You spread hate about your own mutuals. You sent death threats and encouraged your followers to send death threats to your own mutuals the moment their blog had traction.
You mean like how you spoke ill about Emmie who was your friend? Or how you dragged my mutual Nara on your page and called her Islamophobic? Or how your followers are doing the exact same thing and dropping into people's inboxes?
The problem with virtual victimhood signaling is that people like Tee can see themselves as a pinnacle of morality when everything they accuse others of is what they themselves are guilty of. Tee is perfect embodiment of 'every false accusation is a confession' literally.
Also, in terms of putting herself in a moral high ground, she mentions that dark content creators have no right to judge or draw a line. Which is not true, because if people at bizzarocon could draw a line at a guy fake SA a fully grown aborted fetus as shock value -and if you know bizzarocon you’ll know that they literally write ANYTHING taboo, then dark content creators can draw a line for the same reason.
Anything that involves a child, real or a likeness of a child, is where we draw the line.
(I recommend you read that article well, because Chandler's argument and Tee's argument correlate with each other)
Writing about things like noncon or dubcon is all about regaining a sense of control that was lost. It is all about what happens to the writer or to the the reader. It can even help to process their feelings and coming to terms with cnc kinks. It can serve to bring awareness. It can even make people uncomfortable. It depends.
No dark content is more palatable than the other Tee.
And we are not crazy for all agreeing that shota art is wrong.
What does shota or loli content give? What is the intent behind wanting to put vulnerable children in sexual positions with you an adult as an aggressor? Think about it.
Using being a CSA victim and mentioning Ezra’s case of of being a CSA victim does not absolve Ezra from what he did or justify his attraction towards the likeness prepubescent kids. There are many CSA victims that grow up and repeat the same thing again because instead of vowing not to repeat or inflict harm on kids like they did to them, they use their victimhood as an excuse, a shield to perpetuate the same harm on others. Your kind of rhetoric is what a lot of pedophiles and MAP use to justify their actions.
It is sick. It is twisted. It is evil.
You do not get to undermine or silence other survivors’ outrage just because of your personal beliefs Tee. You don’t get to strip them off their survivor status. You are not the only ‘real’ victim and you do not get to speak for us or over us. Using your experience to undermine anyone else's is simply unacceptable Tee. You had absolutely no right
Tee’s racism and racial insensitivity:
If you follow any black writer on here, you would know how many have left due to racism.
You will also know that black writers in the anime community face intense racism for simply existing in a predominantly nonblack space. We are treated like nobodies, told to our faces that our faves would hate black women. We are called slurs in our inboxes, told our pussies are burnt and smelly just to name a few.
When we talk about how we are not represented in fics we are bashed and when we do write x black reader fics we are criticized intensely.
This is what black writers have to face on this app. Every. Single. Day. An app that is supposed to be our safe space and sanctuary.
When the Ezra allegations came out, a lot of black women came out and reiterated that while they were in the same server with him, Ezra had called black women’s hair nappy and then said “it was a joke” and in return these women had to leave because the server members defended Ezra.
Not just one. Not two. About 5+ black women came out to say this. Word for word.
And I’ve spoke to a few who had evidence of what he had done and how they were treated horribly.
Now Tee/Ivory thought it was a good idea to not only discredit victims of Ezra’s antiblackness but call them “rumors” and witch hunts. And when confronted about what she said about it by my mutual, she put words in my mutual’s mouth by saying she is linking pedophilia to antiblackness.
I don’t need to tell you that speaking over a black woman and putting words in her mouth is racially insensitive and also a form of racial violence. I’m sure you know this Tee.
Then Tee derailed the topic into talking about palestine. Something Tee convinently only brings up when confronted with her bullshit. Something that Tee never EVER talks about or reblogs on her account.
You can go check the only posts in tumblr Tee has opened her mouth to say anything about palestine if it is not her avoiding responsibility for bullying and false accusations. Not once did you see her post about the boycott divestment week that was happening THAT WEEK. or the strike that we were not meant to post anything that wasn’t pro-palestine.
Not only that, when my mutual rightly called her out for using the Islam card (virtuous victim signalling AGAIN) to hide behind the fact that she was defending a pedophile, and yes smut is against the Hadith. You don’t get to pick or choose what is a sin or not, especially when your fellow muslim sister is speaking to you. Tee wrongly accused her of islamophobia, posted her account for her followers to send her racial slurs. Tee never clarified or apologized to her for anything that happened right after.
Let’s not mention how this is also a textbook example of antiblackness in the Islamic community which you just perpertuated there. Tee’s behavior, silence and tolerance of antiblackness from her followers also shows where she stands.
Also, Tee you are a horrible person for weaponizing your loved ones and the ongoing genocide to shield yourself from criticism. You only care or mention it when people are rightfully airing you out for your lies. How dare you. You are sick. You are sick for encouraging your follower to incite violence on a black woman. You are sick for accusing a black muslim woman of islamophobia and you are very sick for hiding behind Islam to propagate horrible ideaologies.
Then again, you are only a poc when it benefits you. Your activism starts and ends with using it as a shield when faced with valid criticism about your actions.
In conclusion:
Why did I make this post? Is it to call Tee/Ivory out?
No.
It is a reminder. This is is the kind of person Tee is. She will silence another voice that isn’t hers and hers alone. And the fact she even came back and started writing on this app again is disapponting. Yes, many people would see what she did as just ‘drama’ but her bullying, threatening, silencing of surviviors, antiblackness and using a genocide as a shield for valid criticism will never be drama to me. It is real. These are issues that bleed out in real life.
At the core of your heart Tee/Ivory, this is who you truly are:
Bragging about how you’re in a different tax bracket on site that says eat the rich and means it, is ironic. Calling people brain dead and jobless for saying that you should take accountability - most of us who are actually accomplished - in fact far more accomplished than you will ever be Tee and far more talented and humble compared to you- is embarrassing.
You and your fans can keep spewing out slurs like it’s a tuesday morning Tee/Ivory.
You want to complain about hostility after witch hunting and kicking out better writers from this app? People that were your moots who cared about you? You want to complain about hostility when you outed Emmie’s new account? Or when you let your followers harrass Nara? Or how you had a hate account bullying and mocking your fellow writers? Or you single handedly making everywhere so toxic that your ex moots had to deactivate?
You?
You’re the cause of the hostility. You. You. You.
The JJK fandom is not missing anything with you gone. Don’t come back until you apologize to everyone you hurt with your actions. And if you like, delete your account and make a different one. Change your name. We will still know it’s you at your core. You'll can never change who you really are and this behaviour will forever stain your reputation in the fandom circle.
#tw. discourse#tw. csa mention#tw. ed mention#x reader#x reader discourse#tw. racism#tw. antiblackness#tw. fanfiction discourse#jujutsu kaisen#tw. weaponized victimhood#jujutsu kaisen discourse#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#saetoru#Tee/Ivory
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SteveTony Weekly - The Best of 2023
We made it to the end of the year!! I read…a lot. A lot. According to my records, I read:
1300 fic
15million words
98% of that was SteveTony and narrowing that down to my favorite 10 was…a mission. Here you go--And I’d LOVE to hear what your favorite reads of the year was.
~
Trust Fall by Sineala
Tony needs someone who cares about him, bandages, a jacket, ibuprofen, dinner, a lasting romantic relationship, a nice time in bed, and assistance committing federal crimes. He gets them. In that order.
Gather Ye Rosebuds by lazywriter7
It isn’t like that, for many people. For them, love is the point: the axis around which everything else revolves, the destination at the end of a long, tumultuous journey. Realisation, confession, resolution. Happy ending. That’s how it goes. And love was a point in Tony Stark’s journey, except it came towards the beginning, rather than the end. The issue, instead of the solution.
He hasn’t been alone on the trip, of course. Steve’s been there: sometimes three steps behind, sometimes waiting up ahead by the turn of the road. They’ve sprinted and stumbled, sometimes stood still and refused to move on ahead, sometimes thought of turning away altogether.
Steve and Tony’s story began after they fell in love, and this is about how they fell in everything else.
a rose by any other name by meidui
“Just Steve,” he says quickly, softly, and his voice is music to Tony’s ears. “Please call me Steve.”
Tony can’t help but stare as it occurs to him that he should have prepared a proper greeting. What on earth is someone so young and pretty doing in an engagement like this?
-
There are a lot of things about Steve that make this arrangement easier than Tony thought it would be, but then there are a lot of things about him that complicate it, too.
Second Chance Lives by raeldaza
Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?
My Known Unknown by shetlandowl
That True Lies AU nobody asked for, set in a world where Stane Inc is the world's foremost weapons manufacturer, and Tony's employer.
I could lie tangent to your curves by RurouniHime
Steve is bodyguard to a prominent young socialite with too much genius on his hands... and who has taken an unfortunate shine to him.
Not a Breakup by Annie D (scaramouche)
Tony knew it was a bad idea to start sleeping with Steve. It could mess up team dynamics, make things even more awkward between them in the future, or just plain get in the way of their trying to save the world. Tony foresaw all of the above but not the advent of feelings, and at the most inopportune moment.
now I worship a celestial sun by haemodye
The thing that gets Tony the most is how long it takes him to notice.
Not Steve, or even the other Avengers, but Tony himself. It takes Tony almost two whole weeks to figure out that he’s unable to disobey a direct order from Steve, which just- what the hell is that? What happened to the days when he flew off the handle, unable to play well with others, a notorious wild card?
“God, don’t tell me I’m getting old and predictable,” he says, rubbing a hand over his forehead. And then, “Fuck.”
A mostly-comedic farce involving: 1 obedience spell, 2 pining Avengers, 1 long-suffering Sorcerer Supreme, and 1 single, extravagant Saint Patrick's Day float.
Can't Write One Song (That's Not About You) by FestiveFerret
Ten years ago, Tony fell in love with his roommate: funny, handsome, kind, smart Steve Rogers, who also happened to be the lead singer and guitarist of a band, The Howlies.
Then The Howlies made it big, Steve moved away, and Tony vowed to avoid any mention of the band, their songs, and the man he missed his chance with.
But chance has a way of giving you exactly what you need, even if you don't know it yet...
[Podfic of] When The Lights Go On Again by Dr_Fumbles_McStupid, kalakirya, KD reads (KDHeart), lattice_frames, lavenderfrost, miss_marina95, Opalsong, paraka, Superstitiousme, vassalady
Aliens have invaded earth, and the Avengers are scattered. While Steve leads the resistance, Tony once again finds himself playing captive scientist. In the midst of a violent alien regime, separated by seemingly insurmountable boundaries, Steve and Tony have nothing to keep themselves going but each other.
#stevetony weekly#steve rogers#tony stark#stevetony#stony#iron man#captain america#stevetony fic#stony fic
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final very superficial appraisal of the live action one piece show:
👍:
-the set design was wonderful and had a cool sense of unreality to it (as in, the environments feel like built sets and it’s part of the fun), it was colorful and theatrical and captured the manga’s blend of piratey genre aesthetics (wooden boards, sailing ships, rolled-up old maps) and “modern” elements like t-shirts and neon signs in a really pleasing way
-the show clicks to the top of the first rollercoaster hill at the end of episode 3 and then goes at the start of ep 4 and it’s just one breathless ride to the finish. I didn’t want the show to end. I do not care about one piece and started watching kind of for the bit but now I’ll actually be really upset if it doesn’t get a second season. That’s how good the second half of this show is.
-I love how all of the characters with colorful hair have clearly-dyed hair where their roots are showing (as opposed to wigs), and in flashbacks to a few of them as children the child actors have the exact same sort of imperfect dye job. It’s wonderful. It adds to the theatrical energy of everything, like “we know you know this is artificial, but we trust you to suspend your disbelief and enjoy this fiction with us”.
-with very few exceptions, all of the actors’ performances are great. They are all cool and fun to watch and there are lots of sweet and funny and emotional moments that work because the writing is sincere. Nobody rolls their eyes for the audience’s benefit at how weeeeird their world is— they live here! I love that.
-the trap beat they did for Arlong’s theme music rules
-this story with its global ocean and seafaring/island-based societies is kind of like “what if Waterworld was like a big colorful carnival” and I love that
-the Snail Phones 🐌
Things I liked less below the cut - 👎:
-Zoro’s backstory bff being depressed because “a girl can beat a boy, but no woman can beat a man [in a swordfight]” was a disappointing line to hear two characters just… play straight in a world that up to that point had seemed pretty non-sexist? But this girl sincerely believes that, and this boy doesn’t push back at all. In this world of self-dismembering clowns and people with axes for arms, you’re telling me that there are no champion swordswomen for little kids to admire? Not one?? From skimming the wiki, it seems like in the manga Kuina’s views are influenced by her sexiest dad, but the show doesn’t include that context.
-Kuina dying offscreen in “an accident” was the only tragic thing in the show that didn’t land for me. It’s just so blatant and funny. You’ve got to get rid of her so she can motivate Zoro, because she’s dead in the manga and that’s how you motivate male main characters, with dead women, but… how? Doesn’t matter! There’s been an accident. Typical backstory girl bff behavior. Call that Fridge To Terabithia.
-Iñaki’s energy as Luffy didn’t always work for me. Some character behavior works in manga and anime, but seems awkward and jarring in real life. It’s very difficult to pull off wild limb-flailing anime exuberance in live-action— live-action Cowboy Bebop’s glimpse of Ed comes to mind. But also, I never really liked Luffy in the parts of the manga I read, either, so maybe I’m just not the target audience for a Luffy in any medium. Iñaki seems like a friendly and chill dude and he certainly gave this role 100%— and also Oda himself loved him for the role, so that says a lot.
-the whole thing with Arlong and his Fishman crew where they’re part of an oppressed and formerly-enslaved minority, so of course they have beef with humans (“but slavery’s been abolished!” shouts a human character), but they’re taking things too far and not just fighting for equality, but domination, which includes extorting, killing, and enslaving humans, starting with this poor little girl here. And since this group are clearly evil and have these big evil plans, it’s cool and great actually for the heroes, who are all humans/members of the majority, to kick their asses and kill a bunch of them. Like… I get there’s a whole thing here with Arlong being twisted by hatred into the very thing he says hates, and maybe we’ll meet more Fishmen later in the story who are just people and not bloodthirsty evildoers, but it’s not a great fictional look?
It takes me back to hbomberguy’s critique of RWBY’s portrayal of the Faunus, and the problems with making your bad guys out of an oppressed ethnic group who, the story says, might have a point, if they went about things peacefully, but are just taking things too far with this domestic terrorism stuff. The Faunus and Arlong should really be writing to their congresspeople instead!
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empty til she fills | fuyumi todoroki x reader
You’re beautiful, really. It’s truly no wonder why they chose you for the job, every line and curve and fold. They’ll never be able to capture you the way you really are. Nothing compares to the real thing.
Her eyes gaze over your neck, down your chest, over your stomach, your thighs. That familiar hunger sits in Fuyumi’s stomach, aches in her jaw. She wants to bite you everywhere that she can, really make you bleed. But Fuyumi doesn’t feed from anything but animals, and it’s not like you’d satisfy her hunger anyway. She’s given up on that feeling a long time ago.
Notes: Hiiiii everyone!!! This is the first installment of vampire empire and it’s all about fuyumi!!! It’s much shorter than I thought, but when it was done it was done u know? I love her I think she should be allowed to go apeshit and drink blood and not hold back if she wants to!!!!!!! Let her fuck!!!!!! Anyways yeah thanks for reading!! (title from vampire empire by big thief) u can listen to the playlist for the whole anthology here! Also I made a Pinterest board!
Warnings: 18+, minors dni, f! reader, explicit content, dark content, angst for like the briefest moment, violence, vampires, detailed descriptions of blood and gore (on both reader and another person), murder (u kill someone! It’s offscreen tho), blood kink, biting, drinking blood (fuyumi drinks from reader, u both drink from the dead man), biting and drinking from already open wounds, fingering, oral (reader eats fuyumi out!!! Yay!!!) (bloody), bloody sex, reader is sort of a masochist, soooo many commas, a line completely stolen from fascination (1979) cause I had to ajsjsjsjs, perspective changes between u and fuyumi like a lot idk I’m sorry she spoke to me<3
words: 4.3k
Fuyumi has always been a little unsure of what to do with her hands. When she sits, when she walks, when she kisses, while she waits. Where does she put them? Where do they go?
It’s the same, squeezing porcelain clay through her fingers, molding and shaping and running a wire through the middle and cursing when it doesn’t topple over. She’s bad with her hands, but she loves it, lumpy mugs and all.
And her mugs are lumpy, most of them break in the kiln, but whatever she’s proud of, she sends to her brothers.
She’s never been much of an artist, and all the years she’s lived (many, many years), none of it ever interested her. But when you’ve done everything, there’s no harm in trying. And so even though her pots and bowls end up twisted and misshapen on the wheel, she tries and tries until they’re at least a little bit useful.
The truth is that there, in the studio, surrounded by people who do all the same things that she does, mess up and try again, break things when they don’t turn out, or smash fragile wet clay held together by careful hands, Fuyumi feels human. She makes mistakes. She screws up. It’s something she’s never been allowed to do before.
Plus, you’re there.
The anatomy class pays you to model. Sometimes, she sees you run around in your long robe, buying snacks from the vending machines or remembering something you left in your car. She’s completely enamored with you, with your humanity, how free you seem. She’s envious, in a way, but really she just likes you, wants you—wants to bite you. Which is dangerous for Fuyumi because she stopped feeding from humans ages ago.
You collide on a Saturday night, left alone in the studio, separated by one wall. Fuyumi works late because she doesn’t sleep, and one of the owners of the building had given her a set of keys to lock up when she leaves. When she opens the door to the pottery studio, you’re out in the hallway, slapping your palm against the door next door and murmuring soft no’s as you peak through the glass. You have half a mind to just bust the thing down, except now you’re not alone in the hallway.
Fuyumi. The pretty vampire with streaks of scarlet through her ivory hair, cute glasses perched on her nose, and hands you think about way more often than you should steps out of the pottery studio. You’ve caught her staring at you before, and you can’t tell if it’s because she knows of the similar condition you have in common, or if she’s as interested in you as you are in her.
You both pause, caught staring at one another. The only thing on Fuyumi’s mind is that you’re probably completely naked under your robe.
“I—um, got locked out.” You say, finally, blowing air you have no need for out of your throat like a breath. It must be nerves. “My clothes are in there. My everything is in there.”
“Oh!” She shakes her head free of the thoughts of your bare body. Then a realization, “I have a key!”
You move out of her way and let her unlock the door, jiggling the key in the lock and pushing it open. You grin, press your hands into her shoulders and let out a squeal of delight. “Thank you!”
“Yeah, no problem.” She speaks, willing herself not to melt at the feeling of your fingers digging into her flesh for a moment. She turns to leave, satisfied with the interaction, enough to hold her over for a lifetime, maybe. Your hands on her shoulders, your robe against your skin, your neck.
“Fuyumi!” You call, and she feels like maybe she’s dreaming, or maybe she’s hearing things. But when she turns around, you’re looking at her expectantly. “Would you wait for me? I don’t really wanna walk to my car alone at night.”
It’s a good excuse, you think. Fuyumi’s got that bleeding heart (or lack of one). She won’t leave you alone.
“‘Course! Yeah, I’ve gotta lock the front, anyways, so—yeah, I’ll wait.” She nods, stepping back into the room and letting the door fall shut behind her. She watches you untie you’re robe at the middle, and she spins on her heel, facing the door again. She hears you chuckle, and it makes her feel a little silly. You’re naked for, like, four hours every day. It’s not like you would care if she watched.
But Fuyumi cares, because she doesn’t want to see you naked for the first time like that. She doesn’t want to see you naked and know she won’t be able to touch you.
“Okay, you can turn around, now.” You speak now that you’re dressed. She turns and you walk toward her, locking elbows. She leads you outside, locks the door with your hand against her arm like she’s yours, and walks you to your car.
“Guess I’ll see you next week.” She tells you, pulling away from you to walk to her bike. You call her name and it’s deja vu.
“Do you want to go get coffee?” You ask, stopping Fuyumi in her tracks yet again. She turns.
“It’s eleven o’clock at night.” Fuyumi says like an idiot.
“I just—I wanna keep…hanging out.” You say, and well, so does Fuyumi. Of course, she does. “Your bike’ll fit in the trunk. I’ll drive you home after.”
So, she says yes, stuffs her bike into your trunk with the back seats folded down, and ducks into your car.
You drive like a maniac, and you listen to your music way too loud, and Fuyumi hopes she doesn’t look as terrified as she feels despite knowing she can’t die in a car accident. But you can, she thinks, so yea, she’s terrified. And you drive like this all the time?
But you both make it in one piece, skirting into the parking lot of a diner with a yellowing neon sign out front. Everyone knows you inside, greeting you with happy smiles and asking you questions about your life, details Fuyumi hopes to know after tonight.
You take her to a booth in the corner, sliding in next to her instead of across, thighs pressed up against each other as a waitress brings you both a mug of hot coffee. You order apple pie with ice cream, and Fuyumi envies the fact that you’re even able to eat it. Since becoming a vampire, she’s lost any appetite for anything that isn’t blood.
“So, when were you turned?” You speak, licking vanilla ice cream off the back of your spoon, head resting on you fist as you stare at her. If Fuyumi had a working heart it would be beating out of her chest right now. “I don’t think you’re all that old. You actually seem pretty young. Tell me, maybe in the mid nineties, early two-thousands?”
Fuyumi opens then closes her mouth, unsure of what to say. How could you have possibly known (besides the fact that you got the decade way off)?
“I was turned in ’87 by an old boyfriend who couldn’t control himself.” You shrug, revealing the information like you hadn’t just told her that you, the little human she’s been so fascinated by lately, are a vampire.
“You’re a vampire.” She says—a statement—not a question, because of course, you’re a vampire.
“You didn’t know?” You ask, softer. She shakes her head, stares at the booth in front of her. She feels your fingers underneath her chin, and she’s not sure how she never noticed it before, but you’re hands are freezing. She lets you guide her to look at you. “Hey, are you okay? Did I freak you out?”
And it’s not that you’re a vampire. It’s not even that you’re a vampire that she was convinced was human. It’s that she wanted to bite you, wanted to feel that pop and gush, drink from you what’s not actually even being pumped through your body anymore, blood that’s lying dormant in your veins. And the thing is, she still wants to.
“I think I’m just shocked.” She speaks, willing herself to calm down, accept the situation, adapt. “I haven’t met another one of us here in town. It’s new, but it’s…good. I’m actually a little excited about it.”
“You don’t sound excited.” You observe, letting your hand fall to her thigh.
“I am—no really. I am.” She grins, leaning toward you. “How come you can eat real food?”
You think maybe she still hasn’t processed everything yet, the smile on her face a little unnerving. And there’s something in her eyes, raw, dangerous, hungry. It makes you shiver. “I never lost the appetite.”
“It tastes good to you?”
“So good.” You nod, unknowingly moving a little closer. Two girls pressed up against each other in a booth in a dark corner. Two vampires. Two monsters.
You’re there later than either of you expected to be, fingers intertwined, hands brushing away stray hairs, and words whispered against ears, tucking your face into her neck when you laugh at something inappropriate.
When you leave, Fuyumi tugs on your hand, interlocks two fingers as you walk to your car. You drive just as bad, but she doesn’t think she minds it this time. To die by your side, and all that.
When you drop her off at home, you scribble your number on her wrist with a green glitter gel pen and resist the urge to do something drastic like kiss her or invite yourself in.
Fuyumi realizes she’s left her bike in your trunk, her only mode of transportation to the studio besides walking. She eyes the green glitter on her skin and opens her phone.
left my bike in ur car:/ pick me up to go to the studio tmrrw? Read 2:22am
be there at 10 sent 2:24am
u can sit in on my class sent 2:25am
…
She does sit in on your class the next morning. You hold her hand and show her where to sit, a view of both the artist’s sketches of you and the actual you draped over a couch. It’s probably inappropriate to sit there all horny in the middle of this art class, but you won’t stop looking at her. You know exactly what your doing, mimicking the rise and fall of your chest like you’re breathing when she knows you’re not.
You’re beautiful, really. It’s truly no wonder why they chose you for the job, every line and curve and fold. They’ll never be able to capture you the way you really are. Nothing compares to the real thing.
Her eyes gaze over your neck, down your chest, over your stomach, your thighs. That familiar hunger sits in Fuyumi’s stomach, aches in her jaw. She wants to bite you everywhere that she can, really make you bleed. But Fuyumi doesn’t feed from anything but animals, and it’s not like you’d satisfy her hunger anyway. She’s given up on that feeling a long time ago.
When the class ends, Fuyumi leaves to make more misshapen mugs, taking a few out of the kiln she thinks she’ll give to you. As the sun sets, both of you get ready to leave, and you’re at the door to the pottery studio by the time Fuyumi is done cleaning her space. You’re a little disappointed you missed watching her on the wheel, her pretty hands shaping the clay like you’ve seen her do many times before. You knock on the door frame, and she looks up at you, grins. Her hair is tied up, pieces of hair falling over her face, her cardigan falling down and exposing her right shoulder. You can’t get over how pretty she is, a little messy.
“Hi.” You speak.
“Hey. You ready?” She asks, throwing her bag over her shoulder and walking towards you. You always want to watch her walk towards you—never away.
“I’m ready.” You nod, intertwining your fingers with hers when she makes her way towards you. You drive Fuyumi to your house, your arm over the console and your hand on her thigh.
Your place is small, really just big enough for you. The walls are a mauve color that Fuyumi decides she likes, tiny star shaped twinkle lights hang over each window instead of curtains, a bundle of violets stuffed inside a beer bottle sit on your coffee table, books and dvd’s and records all stacked against one another with what seems to be no sense of organization in your bookcases. It’s really not much for a vampire.
She sets her tote bag carefully on the counter, red and white checkered, pulling two of her signature misshapen mugs from inside. One painted blue with tiny yellow stars and the other lined with terribly drawn strawberries.
“These are for you.” She tells you, turning to face you as you’re bent over your stereo, looking for a station you like. Bits from the past stick with you like a refrigerator magnet. Fuyumi wants to remember the look on your face when you turn around and see her gift for the rest of her life.
“I love them!” You gush, rushing over to pick both of them up. “They’re perfect. One for me, and one for you. We’ll drink blood from them with our pinkies up and cheers to LeFanu.”
Fuyumi laughs, says nothing about the blood. “I’m glad you like them.”
You turn around, opening one of your cabinets open with a finger, setting the mugs down on the counter and moving two snoopy holiday mugs on one shelf towards the back. You set the gift down in their place and wave a hand over it like your presenting them on a gameshow, “I’ve replaced the snoopy mugs with them. That’s a big deal, you know.”
“I’m honored.” Fuyumi grins, moving around the counter to stand near you.
“You should be.” You lean a little closer to her, let her hand brush against your hip, hook her fingers in your belt loops. You nudge your nose against hers, and she takes that as a sign to kiss you.
Chapped lips meet yours, hungrier than you expected, much less soft than the girl before you. There’s a burning in your gut, her hands, those hands you’ve payed so much attention to, pressing into your hips, pulling you flush against her front. You let out a moan when she swipes her tongue against your lip, your bodies pressing closer and closer like you’ll become one person. She moves her leg in between your thighs, pressed up against you, and your mouth falls open in a gasp, one she wastes no time taking advantage of, all tongue and teeth, all her, her, her.
The two of you end up on your couch, unable to make it to the bed. If you had to wait any longer, you think maybe you’d both explode. She eats you out, there in your living room, makes you come three times in a row, familiar hungry eyes never stray from your own.
…
She doesn’t talk about the vampire thing. Ever. She goes quiet when you bring it up, busying herself with something else like washing the dishes in your sink or trying to find something to watch on tv. You mostly let it go because you know Fuyumi. You know how fascinated she is by humans, how she envies them, how that envy and fascination is the very reason you’re together now.
And maybe it should hurt you, the fact that believing you were human was the one reason she’d been so interested. But you know her, bleeding unbeating heart and all, she loves you. She loves you and your monster, she just doesn’t love her’s.
It’s difficult to drag the body through your house alone, vampire strength being something you hadn’t been blessed with once you’d turned all those years ago. Fuyumi sent you a message that she’d be at the studio late and would probably just end up going home instead of coming over. You figure you have time to drain this guy of all he’s worth, pack him up into little tupperwares in your fridge and be done with him by morning.
You’ve done this a million times before, dragged a body out to your back yard, fed from it until your satisfied before saving the rest. It’s enough to last you a couple of weeks. It’s a good system.
You don’t hear the sliding door open, you just hear Fuyumi say your name. You look up at her, blood on your mouth, your neck, your hands, fangs poking out underneath your top lip. You’re sure you look terrifying, but it’s the look on her face that scares you.
It’s disgust, and betrayal, and anger. It’s tears welling up in her pretty, gray eyes and her mouth falling open and closed at the sight of you.
But Fuyumi, well, Fuyumi wants to join you. It’s taking everything in her not to fall to her knees and sink her teeth into the neck of this possibly innocent man. She wants to drink and kiss you, and drink, and touch you, and then drink some more, this time from your neck. But Fuyumi doesn’t kill for blood, and she thought that neither did you.
“I can’t believe you.” Her words are quiet. If you both hadn’t been outside on a completely silent night, you don’t think you would have even heard her.
“Fuyumi…” You begin, standing up from where you’d previously crouched down, blood on your hands falling against the concrete in sticky splatters. She takes a step back like she’s scared of you.
“You killed him.”
“Fuyumi,” another step.
“Stay there.” You stop. It’s not supposed to be like this. She’s supposed to love you. She does love you. You have to tell yourself that.
“I’m a vampire. What did you expect? This is who we are.” You try to explain.
“It’s not—it’s not who I am.” She shakes her head, flashes of red appear behind her eyes, the teeth of her brothers, her hands covered in blood the same way yours are now. Laughing, hollering, arms tangled together, the last time they’d all been with each other, the last time they were happy.
“It is. It is who you are. Fuyumi, you’re starving.” Your words seem to do something to her, her mouth falls closed. A decision is made, and her feet take her closer and closer to you and the body on the floor.
She wraps her hand around the back of your neck, thumbs through the blood you’re covered in and kisses you. She licks the blood on your lips, moaning from either your tongue or taste, you’re unsure. You pull her close, blood smearing against her white t-shirt. She pulls away from your lips, kissing your jaw and your neck, poking her tongue out to lick up the mess. You place your hands on her cheeks, pulling her back to look at you.
“Come here.” You whisper, pulling her down as you crouch to the ground. “I want you to drink—I want to share.”
She lets you pull her down, taking your hand in hers, slippery, slick. You move away from his neck, leaving it open for her, urging her. This is what she wants. There’s something about drinking from your bite in the man’s neck. You’ve been here, you’re bite is her bite is her blood.
And, god, is it delicious. She drinks, lets it fall down her throat in large gulps, dripping down her chin and neck. A sound escapes her throat, guttural, everything she’s deprived herself of having, here in between her teeth. She watches you while she drinks, eyes looking up through white lashes, reaching a hand out to hold you by the wrist, grounded. She pulls away, heaving, even though she has no need for breath. Her lips, saturated in red, begging to be tasted.
“You’re beautiful like that,” You speak, squeezing her hand, “with his blood on your mouth.”
She kisses you, all tongue, her fangs catching on your bottom lip. She pulls away and pushes you down, lets you bite the other side of the dead man’s neck, pets your hair as you drink. It goes on like this for a while, kissing, drinking, touching, whispers of please and oh, god and both of your names over and over until you’re a jumbled mess of words and sounds and blood and guts.
You stumble, half naked through the door, Fuyumi’s hands and lips all over you. You don’t make it to the bed, a habit the two of you have seemed to form, falling down on the hardwood, limbs all tangled. With her shirt already discarded outside, you thumb the hooks of her bra open, throwing it to the side. Blood has dripped from her throat down between the valley of her breasts, and you lick it up, feeling her back arch as she hovers above you.
She kisses your neck, almost frantic. Her fangs brush against your skin like she might sink into you, but she doesn’t, just kisses you so sweetly.
“Can I bite you, please?” She moans. “I need to—I’ve wanted to—”
“Yes.” You interrupt her, throwing your head back against the floor and baring your neck to her. She wastes no time sinking her fangs into your flesh, blood pouring into her mouth. Coppery and sweet, a hint of licorice and cherry—Fuyumi thinks she can’t get enough. You gasp, hands grabbing at her waist, fingers digging into her sides enough to leave a mark. You’ve never felt pain like this, all agony and bliss.
She smiles at you, bloody, when she pulls away. A part of you is her’s now, nestled between her ribs, living in her stomach. You taste yourself on her lips, hands pulling at her jeans, your leg moving between her thighs to grind against her cunt.
You flip her onto her back, sucking on her neck, venturing down her body. You pull her jeans from her legs, along with her underwear, spreading her legs. She’s so wet, thighs sticky with arousal as you run a finger through her folds. A whine escapes her lips as you thumb over her clit. With your eyes on her, you press your tongue to her entrance, watching how her face contorts in pleasure. It reminds you of the way she’d stared at you while drinking from the man, hand clutched to your wrist, not once daring to look away, With one hand, you reach up to do the same, bloody fingers circling her wrist as you devour her.
She writhes, arching her back and grinding against your face, a mess of slick and blood pooling in your mouth as you bring her closer and closer to orgasm.
“Please!” She cries, “please! Oh my god!”
Her moans only spur you on as you speed up the movement of your tongue, squeezing her wrist as you let her move her hips against your mouth. She comes with a strangled cry of your name, legs shaking around your head, falling limp against the floor as you lick at her swollen clit. You pull away, rising from your place in between her thighs to hover over her.
“Like that?” You ask her, placing soft kisses against her jaw. She manages a soft mhm before moving her face to kiss you.You run your hands up and down the sides of her body, “so pretty…”
“Let me touch you.” She begs, pushing herself up onto her elbows. You nod, letting her maneuver you so you’re on your back again. She kisses you again, swirling her tongue against yours, tasting herself. In a way, part of her is yours now, too.
She slips her hand into your underwear, gasping at the feeling of how wet you are. You take the opportunity to lick into her mouth, moaning against her lips as she slips two fingers inside of you. She pulls away from your mouth and eyes the open wound on your neck. You lock eyes with her, nodding in approval, allowing her to bite you again.
She bites and curls her fingers inside you at the same time. A choked scream escapes your throat at both sensations. You move your hips as she pumps her fingers in and out of you, her throat bobbing with each drink she takes from you. It’s overwhelming, and so satisfying, being the consumed for a change.
Her thumb brushes over your clit and you jolt, gripping her waist as she brings you closer to the edge.
“Kiss me!” You cry, “Fuyumi!”
She pulls away from your neck, watching how the blood flows from the wound, continuing her movements against your pussy. You pull her down to kiss you as you come from her fingers. You’re both moaning against each other, passing your blood between your tongues. She pulls her hand from between your legs, stares at the pink-tinted slick and how it webs between her fingers before wrapping her lips around her fingers and sucking them clean off.
She smiles down at you, hair a mess, glasses-less as they’d fallen off much earlier. You press your palms against her cheeks, admiring her. This Fuyumi is hungry, and bloody, and the furthest thing from human. You love her like this. You’ll be her’s forever, if she’ll have you.
You pull her into the shower with you, washing the blood from her hair and her back, taking turns and watching the blood swirl down the drain. She cleans the wound on your neck, and places a bandage over it, though you know it’ll be healed by morning. You place her glasses back onto her face. The two of you fall into bed, finally, arms and legs tangled together, huddled closely. She rubs over the bandage on your neck.
“Next time, I wanna bite you, okay?” You ask, nudging your nose against her. She lets out a laugh you’re excited to hear for the rest of your immortal life and nods.
“I can’t wait.”
#fuyumi todoroki x reader#fuyumi todoroki x you#fuyumi todoroki x female reader#bnha x reader#bnha smut#ghost.writes#ghost.fic#vampire empire
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perse’s fave reads of june 2023
we’re halfway through the year and another month is over! here is the second edition of my monthly reads and as expected it’s a lot longer than last month - this month contains fics that are mature 18+ content. they are marked using 🔞, minors do not interact! as usual, these are not ranked nor do i favour any specifically; in fact i think they’re in order of me discovering them lmao.
♡ fake it till we make it by @kazumist — fem!reader
i told you it’d be back in june! this was in my may reads - it’s a scaramouche college!au socmed!au that was just started when i added it last month but now it’s almost over! mayhaps i’m a little pained that it’s finally ending, how will i cope going forward in life <3
♡ the art of desire by @dustofthedailylife — gn!reader
this fic is sfw but a little suggestive! this is a fluff fic for alhaitham where the reader is in need of a model for their anatomy class and surprisingly their crush of all people volunteers for the job.
♡ honeyed kisses by @solarisfortuneia — gn!reader
the only non-genshin fic on this whole list belongs to one of my own mutuals! this is a jing yuan fluff that i just adore. i’m really down bad for any man that alejandro saab voices (staring at you too, cyno.)
♡ stress reliever by @aeferfckr — 🔞 gn!reader
stress reliever is an overworked aether x reader smut that just… hits right - like chef’s kiss lmao. there’s not much for me to give other than all legal adults must appreciate this beauty at least one time in their life.
♡ the moon is beautiful, isn’t it? by @mondaymelon — gn!reader
fluff headcanons involving xiao, kazuha & scaramouche - it also involves lil snippets of mandarin chinese and japanese! these are focused around the concept of the title since saying "the moon is beautiful, isn't it?" is more or less a poetic way of saying i love you in japanese. something i heavily appreciate since the japanese language is a shared connection between my father and i.
♡ grocery lessons by @solarisfortuneia — gn!reader
mika again!! this is a modern!au strangers to lovers (sorta) fic with diluc where diluc is kinda useless at grocery shopping and reader is a helpful bean.
♡ your attention by @hanilessa — fem!reader
parent!au fluff headcanons for diluc, kaeya, ayato & thoma where they're a little jealous that all your attention goes on your newborn baby. i love the concept of genshin characters as parents, i need more of this content aaaah!
♡ caught in the act by @iheartganyu — gn!reader
this is sfw but it is a little suggestive! getting caught making out headcanons for venti, zhongli, raiden, albedo, yelan, xiao, dehya, alhaitham & kaveh! extensive list of options there which is great because i'm panromantic and i need to inhale genshin women content like it's oxygen at least twice monthly in order to survive.
♡ meet cutes by @kazumist — gn!reader
first meeting headcanons in a modern!au setting for kazuha, diluc, kaeya & zhongli. with the amount of modern!au on the list, it's a little hard to believe that i'm not a huge fan of it? but some things (like these headcanons) just hit right.
♡ insufferable by @lovevivi444 — gn!reader
another mutual written fic! this is a modern!au fic written by my lovely vivi for alhaitham where reader and alhaitham are class rivals - it's fluff and it's funny to bicker with alhaitham. vivi coming through with another one of my rare exceptions of liking a modern!au hehe.
♡ it’s a symbol of our friendship by @hollythius-rising — gn!reader
these are secret relationship headcanons (fluffy!) for alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari & childe. perhaps i ugly sobbed, no i will not be elaborating but i loved these - we need more secret relationship content in this fandom or am i just not finding it?
♡ alhaitham’s the type of guy to… by @cosmicisms — gn!reader
the title gives it away but this is some alhaitham fluff that made me a little delulu but only because i headcanon him this exact same way (definitely not because it's alhaitham...)
♡ being the genshin men’s first priority by @shanieveh — gn!reader
these are a series of fluff headcanons for alhaitham, kaeya, cyno, kaveh, scaramouche & ayato when it comes to them prioritising you above all else (including work!), very good at making you feel wanted and appreciated hehe.
♡ night-time mayhem by @kavehssuitcase — gn!reader
a shikanoin heizou fluff written by none other than my mutual bell!! this was after i requested heizou fluff on my blog because i'd had a really bad day and the reaction pic i used when i reblogged it was honestly my true emotions - i still go back and reread this bell i hope you know that <3
♡ be mine by @zephestia — fem!reader
be mine is a university!au socmed!au for shikanoin heizou! it's currently ongoing and it's fluff + crack of heizou basically becoming a simp and 6reeze is involved and it's like a culmination of my favourite things of course.
♡ kiss me under the spotlight by @papiliotao — gn!reader
these are a series of actor!au headcanons for scaramouche, kazuha & xiao separately. all fluff and had me giggling and wishing i was an actress suddenly?? i'm a sucker for aus like these even though i'm not a big fan of modern!au.
♡ the language of a book by @lumiestique — fem!reader
this is a fluff confession involving alhaitham! just has me giggling because alhaitham isn't good with emotions & feelings and that's exactly how i headcanon that man.
♡ beneath the milky twilight by @lovevivi444 — gn!reader
a very recent series of headcanons from vivi to celebrate her reaching 100 followers (go show her some love!) modern!au with kaeya, albedo, cyno, dainsleif & alhaitham where you ditch prom with them!
♡ ring sizes by @sea-lanterns — gn!reader
a nblw series of fluff headcanons for eula, yelan, miko & ningguang where the women are trying to find your ring size! it's only mildly suggestive for miko and they're all established relationships. man, i love women <3
© https-heizou 2023.
#《★ monthly reads ★ 》#https-heizou#genshin#genshin impact#genshin fluff#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader
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Eddie Munson and Uncle Wayne Things Part 2
Eddie Munson and Uncle Wayne Things Part 1
I never expected so many people to enjoy Eddie and Wayne together so I decided to write more!! Hopefully these are just as cute and sweet 😊 ENJOY
🤘Wayne keeps a photo of Eddie in his wallet and whenever someone ask about his family Wayne pulls it out, “This is my boy Eddie, he’s a lot bigger now, about to graduate high school!”
🤘It’s a photo of kid Eddie covered in paint from when Eddie first moved into the trailer Wayne said he could paint his room whatever color he wants. (Good thing he was a kid because teenage Eddie would have insisted on an all black room 🙄)
🤘 On Sunday mornings Wayne would make kid Eddie practice reading the comics to him while he made breakfast (especially Garfield) so now Eddie is like 😠 I hate that stupid cat
🤘Wayne would make Eddie pancakes, they were always a little burnt so he would add smiley face on them in whip cream to make up for it.
🤘Wayne is skilled at patching up clothes (from Eddie being a rambunctious little kid) and he helped Eddie sew patches on his vest and taught him the basics (thank you for this @rosehavencomic)
🤘Eddie surprises his Uncle with a vest with patches he sewed on himself and Eddie handmade a Corroded Coffin patch to put on it and Wayne wears it while watching Eddie perform.
🤘”If I could grow hair I’d be more metal than you kid” “In your dreams old man”
🤘Eddie tried to convince Wayne to get matching tattoos but he said no 😔 Wayne got them matching keychains instead.
🤘Wayne saves all of his change in jars for Eddies college fund. He’s not even sure if Eddie wants to go to college but just in case (He has about 8 jars filled so far!)
🤘Eddie forces Wayne to watch all of the Lord of the Rings movies at once and explains the lore and everything that is happening. They take smoke breaks together where Wayne ask what is happening (he has no clue) “If they're walking that far why don't they wear shoes?”
🤘Wayne calls Eddie kid, son, boy, and Edward Munson when he is in trouble 🤭
🤘Eddie painted a mini figure to look like his Uncle as a gift.
🤘Wayne signed Eddie up for t-ball as a kid and went to every practice and game. When Eddie was up to bat (sorry for using this triggering word 😔) Wayne would cheer “That’s my boy!! Hit a home run for me”
🤘Eddie writes a paper about for English class about who he wants to be when he is older. He describes Wayne and how he wishes he could be as hard-working and kind. Gives it to him by saying “Look I got an A on this” Wayne tears up while reading it later at night and keeps it in his night stand (This is also the only A Eddie has gotten in English)
🤘When Eddie was younger Wayne would ask if he wanted to go visit his dad and Eddie would always say “No, I just wanna stay here with you”
🤘After selling an exceptional amount of drugs Eddie always treats his Uncle to dinner “Anywhere you want old man, its on me!!”
“Where did you get the money, kid?”
“Don't worry about it, don't worry about it......I was thinking maybe a burger.”
Wayne would never ask further he already knew where the money came from
“I was thinking the same kid”
🤘Wayne bought Eddie his van right after he got his license and taught him how to change the tires, the oil, and fic it up. When he gives Eddie the key he tells him “This is the only way I want you starting a car ya hear me.” (When Eddie hot wired the RV I know he was chanting I’m so sorry old man please forgive me in his head 🥺)
🤘When Eddie is sick Wayne pushes his bangs up to feel his forehead
🤘Wayne and Eddie standing in the freezer section arguing over which frozen meals they should get for the week. Neither of them are very good cooks but Wayne tries when he is not working. Let’s just say there is a lot of spaghetti dinners in this trailer!
Masterlist
@waynemunson I thought you would like to know!
#eddie munson#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#stranger things 4#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#wayne munson#uncle wayne#joe quinn#joe quinn x reader#joe quinn imagine#joseph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn imagine
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DAMIAN WAYNE HEADCANONS !!!
ah, love of my life. this man right here got me years ago into learning more about the batfam and now here i am. you can say it’s kind of his fault. anyways,,, no one asked for this but my brain did.
requests are open! hit that anon button and tell me your idea!
warnings: swearing, hadn’t been proof-read.
damian’s head is a MESS. don’t get me wrong, the guy is a little genius, but imagine the chaos of languages he has -- arab, english, chinese, i’m a hundred percent he knows russian, urdu is nanda parbat’s official language...
because of this (^^) he just sometimes shuts down and stays silent. he can’t even think.
he loves all animals but he can’t handle insects. jason found out, and damian bribed him with a collectors special edition of classical books. nobody must know his weaknesses.
he writes in cursive, i have no clues but also no doubts.
words are difficult for him, that’s why he talks the way he does -- so professionally, like he is from another age.
can stand tim (in small amounts) but no longer they will always have an intellectual rivalry -- it’s probably more from damian’s side rather than tim’s.
he still feels like he has to hide that he looks up to dick.
damian searched what fanfiction was. he’s scarred for life now.
he’s straight up bored of paparazzi. he’ll go lady gaga on their ass and stare at the ones that are hidden in a bush trying to take pictures of him in secret.
also he will go full cole sprouse on the people trying to take pictures on him while he’s walking through gotham (this means he will snap pictures of the civilians before they snap a picture of him. camera duels, that’s the name)
listens to A LOT of music. everything his siblings listen to, he does too. classical music is his favorite, however. (also enjoys jazz).
taking care of his animals and his duties as robin are his favorite activities.
doesn’t understand social media, but still uses it. he’s too stubborn to admit he’s bad handling that.
too lazy to figure out how to cook, but if he tried in the slightest, he would be an amazing cook.
damian is an incredibly fast learner. it amazes the fuck out of bruce how many new things he can learn in just one day.
he grows to be an actually very kind person, but his snarky remarks and dry humor never disappears.
likes the addams family. what a surprise.
doesn’t get horror/slasher movies. he keeps getting bored and doesn’t react to the jumpscares. jason says he is dead inside, which everyone agreed on.
they don’t know (^^) that damian is making a superhuman effort to not kick someone when the jumpscares occur because this little guy has his senses to the maximum all the time.
can’t be bothered unless someone is being ignorant or trashing about his family. he’s the only one that trashes about his family >:(
texts like a grandpa but at least he knoews what’s happening (most of the times)
like jason, damian has been kicked out of the wayne family chat numerous times.
has an elderly person soul except for when he’s fighting. then he’s a vicious little shit-
plays piano. no, i will not elaborate.
will correct your grammar in a condescending tone of voice.
“don’t patronaze me.” @ everyone.
has general knowledge about a shit ton of things. and since he doesn’t know how to properly socialize (canon) will spill those facts in order to start a conversation during galas.
has threatened the police -- 10/10 will do it again.
damian couldn’t care less about gossip but since he’s a good listener he always ends up knowing the tea about E V E R Y T H I N G.
cocky bastard. that’s it, that’s all i’m saying.
he has no idea how to handle compliments. it still makes him freeze whenever someone says he’s cute or has pretty eyes.
“no.” (damian’s answer every time someone calls him cute).
believes in soulmates and in love at first sight, not as a superficial concept but as a ‘i’m clicking and mystically attracted to this person rewardless of their looks’.
reads A LOT.
never as much as jason, and also he doesn’t just read like narrative books -- he reads those thick books about how to do things, biographys, and studies about subjects he randomly knows about.
barely sleeps, if he ever does.
sleep is for the weak™
(^^) proceeds to randomly fall asleep during patrols or family dinners.
acts like a brat but he actually isn’t -- it’s so complicated to explain, i hope someone just gets it.
at 17 he’s taller than dick and almost as tall as jason. suck it, @ everyone who mocked his height.
jon kent is his Best Friend™
(^^) damian told me himself.
he’s very handsome (canon lolz)
no but like, i mean, he will actually be one of those men you think ‘good fucking lord, he’s handsome’
damian thinks selina is cool.
has a lot of anger and frustration inside. it calms him down knowing jason also has problems like those because it makes him feel more... normal.
because normal is something damian would have liked to feel if he hadn’t been conceived to be perfect.
he would love six of crows -- would really like kaz brekker.
secretly enjoys the ya genre, will never admit it out loud.
#damian wayne#damian wayne headcanons#damian wayne headcanon#batfam#jon kent#!!!!#batfamily#damian wayne fic#robin#fifth robin#fourth robin#ask me for a part 2#im begging
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My argument as to why the mysterious letter is definitely Gaster.
Okay, now I’ve had time to drink it all in/actually do things for valentines day, I’m ready to make my argument as to why the mysterious letter is definitely our boy Gaster. I’ve been of the mindset that he’s a goofy old man for a long time, and I’ve always wanted to make a video essay to explain my point of view but I've never had the time. This newsletter gave me the push to write this ‘quick’ summary though. Feel free to fight with me in the notes.
First of all, I am aware that the Japanese version uses Hiragana instead of his normal Katakana. I barely understand English, so I can’t even begin to understand the importance of it. It is my biggest foil, but I don’t think it affects things too much.
My first, easiest bit of evidence, is the fact that Toby has already removed the letter, leaving only this.
He does this constantly with Gaster stuff. He did it with the tarot cards, he did it with abc123a.ogg. The moment someone posts something online, he removes evidence of its existence. Suspicious, is it not?
Okay, let’s break the letter down shall we?
This is in line with a lot of things we already know about WDG. Most likely in Wingdings, we have hints in Sans’ lab and the true lab that his handwriting is impossible to read. We don’t know any of these are 100% him, but it makes sense that it would be difficult to read unless you were determined enough to do so (I assume that is what ‘squint your heart refers to?).
There are multiple people who know what the ‘delta rune is’, but here to me he is clearly discussing the game, not the prophecy. The only person to ever have interest in our opinions of the experience is the ‘other him’, when he introduced us to the survey program. He also talks in short sentences, Like he does in the initial goner sequence, and pretty much everything else.
Okay, so this is something that has plagued my mind for a while, but this has brought it to the forefront. I assume here that he’s referring to Dess being stuck in the code, or whoever it is (See here https://forum.melonland.net/index.php?topic=68.0). I’ve always been of the mind that Gaster genuinely wants to help, partially because of the eggs and partially because he seems to want you to win. He wants you to stop the roaring. I have a bunch of theories about this that probably deserve their own video, but here’s a quick summary:
If you name yourself Suzie in the goner maker scene, he says:
As far as I know, he doesn’t say this for anyone else, including ralsei, so he clearly has some kind of positive opinion of Suzie. Why would he say this if he was an antagonist to the fun gang?
When you die in the game and press no on the continue screen, the song ‘darkness falls’ plays (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FSn4p1Xx7NU&ab_channel=Palpe). While definitely having Gaster’s leitmotif for starters, Just listen to how melancholy it sounds. It gives me the same bittersweet vibes that it’s raining somewhere else gives me. If this is a reflection of how Gaster feels when you give up, then he’s definitely a bit bummed that you failed.
Someone is clearly helping the secret bosses. While most people assume that he is doing it for some kind of nefarious purposes, I think he was genuinely trying to help, and it backfired.
Anyway, back to the letter.
There’s a lot of connections between forgetting and Gaster. Fanon dictates that he’s been completely erased from everyone’s memories, but I don’t want to rely on fanon here. The first thing that comes to mind is obviously ‘Don’t forget’ plastered all over deltarune, which is what I assume he means when he calls it ironic, but that isn’t specifically tied to him. What I do think of however, is goner kid. I’ve already put enough images in this bad boy, but he says "Have you ever thought about a world where everything is exactly the same...Except you don't exist? Everything functions perfectly without you...Ha ha... The thought terrifies me." We know so much about how the goners are connected to him, I’m not gonna re-go over it here. Someone also mentioned the Spamton sweepstakes “AREN'T YOU FORGETTING SOMETHING?” on the ice page, which could also be relevant here. Is there any other character linked to forgetting as much as he is?
Okay, now for my most dubious point (sue me I’m not an actual theorist). But… Doesn’t this give you old man papyrus vibes? It’s goofy, It’s in all caps, it puts a smile on my face. To quote my friend outside the fandom, “It’s giving old man texting his grandchildren for the first time”. I know this is one of the biggest contradictions for people, claiming that it’s out of character for gaster to speak like this, but I give exhibit A, from the legends of localisation book:
(Ripped directly from https://www.tumblr.com/gasterofficial/715722490333298688?source=share)
I’ve always loved this. It’s probably not canon, but it’s goofy as hell. It was one of the first things that made me want to do a video on my “gaster is a good dude” ideas. It’s the exact same vibes as the letter.
So what do you think? I could definitely go into more detail about all of this, if people are interested. I just saw something that helped fuel my theories and had to put my opinions out there. Please don’t murder me in the notes for going against the antagonist gaster grain I am very sensitive okay good by!
#undertale#deltarune#utdr newsletter#utdr theory#wd gaster#I hope this makes sense#I was very excited to get this newsletter#happy valentines day btw!!
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hey ghostie i was gna get specific for the ask game but I wanna know *all* of it now, the acronyms, the full names, all of em! are they for cyberpunk or other fandoms? no matter how much there is to know, i wanna know! talking about an idea helps a lot, i speak from experience! thanks for the mention, ill get on the wip game soon, too! ❤️
WIP Game Here
Thank you for the ask! I appreciate it :) They are all Cyberpunk 2077 things lol. I’ve largely been a lurker in other fandoms until this one, and this is the first one that finally compelled me to make stuff and that I’ve had the bravery to share. Don’t have many snippets at the moment, all of what I have so far is already out there. Since you asked for all of them though, I shall dish and give you a bit of a peak behind the curtain on how all this got started…
(I’m sorry, this got very rambly.)
And def tag me when you do yours! I will come find you and your wips! 🧡
SIG - So It Goes
(The title is based off the radio song from the game that you can listen to on Morro Rock. Never officially released and credited to the fictional band Fingers and the Outlaws in the game. Officially sung by Ryan Kattner, the front singer of the band Man Man.)
SIG is my current V/River conspiracy theory long fic that I’m working on, and the project is coming up on its two year anniversary. It’s also my first fic. I’m hoping to wrap it up this spring so I can move on to other creative endeavors. There are a lot of art projects, fandom and non-fandom related, that I’ve held off on because of this and I miss those hobbies. I also feel like I’ve been missing out a lot in the writing corner of the fandom too because a lot of new writers have popped up on the scene since I started (back when there was still a monopoly on the tag, but that’s a different story) and everyone else seems to be having fun reading everyone else’s fics, except me… Reading’s complicated for me right now. Writing this had a lot of ups and downs, but overall I’ve loved telling this story, learned a lot, and I’m really proud of it!
I think most people get into fic writing for the ships, the romance, the smut, the processing of internalized trauma, a more satisfactory ending, weird niche interests… And don’t get me wrong there’s a lot of appeal with all that, and definitely those aspects in my own work. But this whole thing got started because of conspiracy theories. I fucking love mysteries and puzzles, so after playing the sun ending and then I spotting Mr. Blue Eyes on the balcony during the conclusion of Dream On, I just about lost my damn mind. I went down the rabbit hole, spent hours reading shards and messages in the game, combed reddit theory posts, and started picking up on all the hints and foreshadowing of something larger looming throughout the game.
I initially didn’t have any answers when I made the decision to start this fic (fuck, high probability I still don’t), it was largely me brainstorming and trying to figure out what kind of story I wanted to write. Seeing if I could even piece things together. But in the process of thinking all that through, I came up with this little theory. I thought it was pretty mind blowing at the time (still think it is) but it’s been my little secret since I got here and I’m very anxious to finally share it.
Most people probably would have just written a theory post and been done with it, but I decided to turn mine into a fan fic lol. Which may or not have been a mistake, we’ll see. This is either gonna be game changing or everyone is going to think it’s dumb and I’m gonna be wearing a dunce cap for the next fifty years.
River Ward. The other half of my reason for writing this fic. I actually wasn’t sure if I liked him at first, it took me a while to warm up to him. But the more I got to know him, the more I started to like him. The more he grew on me. He got hotter over time. Plus, I’ve got a fondness for detective characters and unusual coats, so I should’ve seen it coming.
River’s gotten a lot of flak from this fandom. People claim he’s boring. He’s a cop, so acab. Being unemployed and living in a trailer park with your sister, niece, and nephews isn’t a particularly redeeming quality. I don’t agree with most of those statements, but I do agree with the folks who do appreciate his character, that in terms of development, he absolutely got shafted in the game. This fic is also an attempt to rectify that.
For as underdeveloped as his story arc was, there’s a lot of nuance to his character that I think gets glossed over by the game and most people. We didn’t get much, but out of what we did get, it’s been interesting trying to piece a story together that’s in line with what we got. And I did mention earlier that I like puzzles.
I’ve noticed that a lot of folks tend to lean very hard into the cop aspect of his character, but as far as I’m concerned, River Ward doesn’t give a shit about the law. Conducting an off the record investigation, intimidating a confidential informant, illegally obtaining evidence, breaking into a restricted lab, committing arson for your ex so she can pass a medical exam, conducting another investigation after being suspended; those are not the actions of a man who holds the letter of the law above all else. Those are the actions of man who is determined to get to the bottom of things, and protect people, all while navigating a system that is anything but equitable or fair. They are the actions of a man who is willing to go above and beyond for the people he cares about, even to his own detriment. His own safety. For River Ward, it was never about the law, it’s about justice. And pursuing that sometimes involves breaking the rules.
River is also Pomo. Which is something that was only added in subsequent patches, heavily glossed over in the game, and is only disclosed if you choose to actually romance him. But he’s Indigenous. Native American. And yet he still made a conscious decision to join the NCPD. Given the historical participation by law enforcement and government institutions in North America, and around the world, in the cultural erasure and mass genocide of entire nations, tribes, and communities of people. And given the current state of issues regarding law and judicial enforcement on tribal lands, I think River's character is a rather poignant reflection. Of wanting to good, of wanting the world to be better, but being confined in systems that simply won't allow that. There's a billion other little details I could ramble on about, but his character had the capacity to walk a very fine line of complexities which the game never really did justice to.
Diversity and representation in media are important to me, and I want this fic to reflect that. Being bi-racial, I didn’t get very much of it growing up, so if I can provide representation, even in some small capacity, I think it’s better than nothing. And while I don’t know if I’m achieving that, well, shit if I’m not trying.
I wouldn’t say this story was really meant to be original, but rather to fill in the gaps on the story we got and for me to practice writing. Practice telling a story. CP2077 is a violent game set in a violent world. And I somehow managed to start writing a story that accidentally ended up being a love letter to aikido. (Much to my chagrin. It’s everywhere. In everything. I cannot escape it.) Aikido is a martial art that translates “to the way of peace” or “the path of harmony.” Yet again, another study in dichotomies. How can a martial art, an art form designed to inflict violence, be peaceful? Aikido is as much of a martial art as it is a philosophy. We train to practice and learn that philosophy.
One of the major themes I’m exploring in this fic series is the nature of violence. What it is, the forms it takes, how cyclical it is, that it is a relationship - violence requires your participation. So the question ends up being: how do you break cycles of violence when you live in a world where you are beholden to it? V and River are very much two characters that are caught up in cycles of violence. Will they find peace? I don’t know, but maybe they can find out together.
From The Top
(This one isn’t named after a song. I just decided to start from the beginning.)
From The Top is the VP project I started up last spring where I’ve been taking storyboard style photos of all the main missions. Plus whatever else I feel like. I take all of my photos on PS5 in vanilla photomode and randomly started snapping pictures just because. I did landscape photos, shared a few. Got a bit of nice feedback from people who cared to look and then started branching out. I eventually got to the point where I started a new playthrough for the sole purpose of snapping photos.
Taking VP is very different from writing for me. I don’t have to think about. I don’t agonize about making sure every tiny detail is just right, because for the most part I don’t have very much control It’s candid, intuitive, experimental, it’s straight up play. I simply wait for opportunities to present themselves and capture whatever I think looks or feels interesting to me. It’s easy for me to walk away from it if it doesn’t do well when I post. Unlike my writing, there’s no ego attached to it.
I’m getting to the tail end of this project, I still have a couple of the base game missions to get through, but I’d also like to do Phantom Liberty as well. Not sure what my VP career is going to look like after this, might go into soft retirement. But that’s okay.
NR - Night Running
(Named after Night Running by Cage the Elephant)
Is a sleeper wip that’s currently in the notes, brainstorming, and kitchen drawer phase. It’s part 2 of my Nothing Comes Before Night City series. So It Goes is part 1.
It takes a long time for me to mull over and ruminate on ideas, so this document is largely just a repository for notes and thoughts. Jamming the utensils in the drawer until I’m ready to organize them. I have a very broad idea of what I’d like to happen in this fic, key moments I’d like to hit, but there’s still a lot of refinement that needs to happen, and stories this involved require me outlining. I do already have a running set list of songs to draw from though.
Les Preludes
(Named after Les Preludes by Franz Liszt)
Another sleeper wip, also in the brainstorming phase. These are meant to be one-shots or short stories from the Nothing Comes Before Night City series. Moments I mentioned in the series, but can’t fit into the larger story. Character studies and background lore from V, River, Johnny, Jackie, a couple of OCs and whatever else I can think of.
I will probably start casually working on these after I finish SIG and while I’m outlining NR. I’d like the series to go in chronological order. Should be fun. And I think it’ll be good practice for being more concise. Unlike, this response...
If you stuck around for this TedTalk and made it all the way to the end, thank you! 👻
#wip game#ask away!#tag you're it#cyberpunk 2077#from the top#fic: so it goes#works in progress#long post#river ward#nothing comes before night city
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Fic writer 20 Questions
Thanks for the tag, @khorazir!
How many works do you have on AO3?
29 fics, three J2 RPS, 1 Supernatural, the rest is Sherlock.
What’s your total AO3 wordcount?
490,267 (though I have to add that a lot of my old fics aren’t on AO3, my overall word count must be well over a million.)
What fandoms do you write for?
In the past, Star Wars, Supernatural, Harry Potter, RPS. Right now it’s Sherlock, and has been for a while. And I don’t see that changing any time soon.
What are your top five fics by kudos?
Bakers with Benefits
Don’t Read the Last Page
Running Obliquely
Take Two
All I Want for Christmas (is Proof)
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I always respond to comments, or at least I try my best to. It’s only polite, people took time to give me feedback, the least I can do is to thank them for their time.
What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I don’t do angsty endings, my fics all end happily ;-)
What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Hm. Well. All my fics end on a happy note, but for me, it’s probably Spare Parts because that happy ending was the one I felt was the hardest won. But I do have a soft spot for the last chapter of Bakers with Benefits, because that was also a long road, both for Sherlock and for me.
Do you get hate on fics?
Hasn’t happened so far. Granted, I only posted one of my many, many Wincest stories, so maybe if I had more of them on AO3, but as it stands, I never got hate on one of my fics, and I hope it stays this way. The odd rude comment, but no hate.
Do you write smut?
Yup. But not a lot of it. I find the older I get the less smut I write, probably because it’s starting to feel repetitive. Which is funny, because I’ve written hundreds of love confessions and I never get tired of those.
Do you write crossovers?
Not yet. If the inspiration strikes, I might yet write one, but so far I haven’t.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I’m aware of. I’m not on Wattpad and the likes, so there might be some stolen copies of my works out there, but who knows. Someone once told me about this person who plagiarized one of my J2 fics and re-wrote it as a Degrassi het fic, but the person had already deleted their account, so I couldn’t verify it. That was… bizarre.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes, several. Speak Now was translated into Spanish, Bakers with Benefits into French and Without Complexities or Pride into Russian.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
My darling wife @nuttersinc and I co-wrote thousands of words of fic. We hosted fests and LJ communities, ran an online RPG together and co-wrote a huge fic series that we abandoned when we both fell out of that fandom at the same time. We haven’t been in the same fandom since back in our Supernatural days, but we did just about everything fandom spouses can do together except host a podcast ;-)
14 . What’s your all time favourite ship?
I mean… Johnlock just has The Dynamic down to a science. You can do so much with them. You can do anything. They’re so wonderfully perfect for each other in all their fucked-up, flawed, deeply human glory. But having said that, I have a weak spot deep in my heart for Mulder and Scully, because they were so important to me as a teenager, and they led me to fandom and fanfic. They’re the first ship that truly owned my soul. So a part of my heart will always belong to them.
(They also led me to my second favourite het ship of all time, Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane, because Mulder compared himself and Scully to Peter and Harriet in one of my favourite fics, so of course I had to go read the books, and man, that’s a Dynamic, right there. Two whip-smart, emotionally extremely vulnerable people both desperately wanting and being deadly scared of true intimacy. I eat that up with a spoon. Also love the ‘man totally besotted with the smart, independent woman cutting his ego down to size’ dynamic.)
15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Oh, so MANY. I never post WIPS because I want to feel free to abandon stories whenever, so I’m the only one haunted by my WIP folder, but there’s a few in there I would really like to come back to one of these days. But never say never, the first three pages of Nothing Gold Can Stay sat in there for MONTHS, gestating. You never know.
16. What are your writing strengths?
I can only say what I enjoy writing, I hope that joy translates itself to the page. I love writing dialogue and I think I’m pretty good at it. I think I’m good at pacing, and I think I’m good at making people Feel Things.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I sometimes lose patience with plot. Because I mostly use plot as a means for character development, I sometimes lose patience with my own plots. That mostly happens in the fics I don’t finish, and it’s mostly the reason I don’t finish the fic. I’m also not especially good at handling large casts of characters, many of my fics have very few characters.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?
Honestly, it hasn’t come up yet. I would only do it in German, because that’s my native language, otherwise I’d be too worried to get it wrong. I don’t generally like it when conversations aren’t translated. Othewise I have no strong feelings about it.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Wrote? X-Files. Posted? Roswell.
20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?
Oh, that’s hard. The ones I loved writing the most are probably Take Two and my J2 highschool AU. I wrote both very quickly in a sort of fugue state, and it just feels amazing when that happens. The one I enjoy re-visiting the most? Bakers with Benefits.
Tagging @keirgreeneyes @jrow @discordantwords @thetimemoves and anyone else who wants to do this.
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