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rubycruzin4abruzin · 8 days

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never been (stage) kissed

Summary: After years of being a struggling actress in Los Angeles, you finally land your big break! The only problem is, you’ve been cast opposite your longtime celebrity crush… Ruby Cruz. What will you do when the director demands a kiss between the two of you?

Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader

Contains: mature language, small amount of adult humor, kissing, fluff, thigh touching, in depth details of Hollywood movie shooting, anxious!reader, publicity tweets and comments, ruby being the sweetest girl EVER

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: This is a Real Person Fiction. I’ve included a mass disclaimer of RPF guidelines here. Make SURE to click the link before reading, it’s extremely important for the safety of all Real People involved in this fiction.

You stared at the movie script in your hand, biting your lip to stop from squealing. After being in Los Angeles for the past five years, you had finally landed your big break.

You had known that you wanted to act ever since your mother signed you up to be a munchkin in a community theatre production of “The Wizard of Oz.” Of course, being a stubborn elementary schooler, you fought her on it, saying the songs were “stupid” and the costumes were “itchy.” But as soon as opening night came, and the lights hit your face, you put on a smile and celebrated the death of the Wicked Witch like it was something you’d been waiting for your entire life.

After the song's last note, deafening applause echoed around the theater, causing adrenaline to course through your veins. In that moment, you decided to spend the rest of your life chasing that feeling.

When you reached middle school, you joined their drama department, taking theatre as an elective class while occasionally participating in the school plays. Once high school rolled around, you began to take some of the more advanced classes, and even competed in a couple One-Act Play competitions. A lot of the people you started taking classes with eventually got bored and left to pursue other hobbies, but over the years you just fell more and more in love with acting, and became completely dedicated to your craft.

Instead of attending college, after you graduated high school you packed up whatever you needed and moved across the country to a small town about half an hour away from Los Angeles. The area was slightly sketchy, your apartment was small, and you had to work two jobs while sharing with four other roommates just to make rent.

Los Angeles kinda… sucked. But you had stars in your eyes and couldn’t be happier.

Unfortunately, you were kind of in for a rude awakening once audition season rolled around. Back in high school, you would book leads left and right. Now, it seemed like the only gigs you could book were background work, maybe a role in a rinky-dink student film if you were lucky. You always took what you could get, but you longed for something that could get your foot in the door.

One day, one of the short films you starred in entitled “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens” got entered into some film festival, and not only did it win an award you couldn’t remember the name of, it ended up going viral on YouTube, and not in a bad way either. Your performance in that film was astounding.

Plus, not that this was the sole reason the film blew up, but as an actress in your early 20’s who tended to take care of herself, you were kind of… well… hot.

Suddenly, you were getting recognized in public, signed with an agency, and landing more notable roles. You were featured in a music video for an up-and-coming country artist, booked a commercial for a costume makeup company (in which you brought back your look from “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens”), and even starred in three episodes of a new series on HBO Max.

Just when you thought life couldn’t get any better, one day you were coming back from what was either your third or fourth audition of the day, when you got a call from your agent on the drive home. You groaned, almost certain she was calling to schedule another “last-minute” audition. Sure you appreciated how hard she worked to get you booked, but you were also so tired after a long day.

To your surprise, when you picked up the phone, she ecstatically announced that you had booked a huge role.

In a feature film.

Starring alongside your celebrity crush… Ruby Cruz.

You had to pull over on the side of a highway to keep from swerving out of excitement.

Ruby had been your celebrity crush since you saw her in the Disney+ series “Willow.” Her masculine ambience, her devil-may-care attitude, and the way she swung her sword had you absolutely drooling. Somehow, you finished the entire series in two days, and immediately ran to IMDB to add Every Single Thing she’s been in to your watch list.

Now, you stood in front of the building where your first read-through was supposed to take place, the script for “Aliens of Atlantis” resting in your shaking hands. You gulped as you pushed open the door, wondering how you were going to keep your cool around Ruby when the very thought of her practically sent you into cardiac arrest.

Walking into the reading room, you were met with several chairs arranged into a circle and sounds of chatter from the other actors. You recognized a few of them from some smaller projects, even recognizing one from a movie that had come out the previous year. Your eyes scanned the room for Ruby, heart beating out of your chest when they landed on the back of a choppy brunette bob.

When Ruby turned around, you swore her blue eyes sparkled under the fluorescent lights. She caught you staring at her from across the room, and shot you a wide toothy smile before walking over to you.

“Hey,” she started. “You must be Zephyra.”

You blinked at her. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Zephyra.” She repeated. “You’re playing the alien queen of Atlantis, right?”

She furrowed her eyebrows at you slightly and tilted her head, worried she may have gotten you mixed up with someone else.

Her words clicked in your head, finally. “Oh! Yes! I’m playing the role of Zephyra.”

Ruby’s smile returned as she let out a lighthearted chuckle. You swallowed, trying to keep your cool. You still had trouble wrapping your mind around the fact that you were standing in front of the Ruby Cruz, and having a semi-successful conversation.

She stuck out her hand, offering a handshake. “Hi, I’m Ruby. I’m playing Calantha.”

You took her hand, electric shocks vibrating through your body at her touch. “Nice to meet you.”

After removing her hand (much to your displeasure), she turned to walk back over to her seat, but not before flashing you a smile over her shoulder. “Can’t wait to work with you!”

God, why did she have to be so cool?

The table read went fairly well, in your opinion. The movie was about Calantha, an underwater adventurer, finding the lost city of Atlantis during an expedition. Once there, she finds the city being ruled by aliens who’s spaceship crashed near the area about 100 years ago. Calantha finds Zephyra, the alien queen, who makes her promise to keep their secret, and in return, Calantha will help her run the city.

You were playing Zephyra, of course, since being in “Attack of the Killer Zombie Prom Queens” proved you looked hot even in otherworldly makeup. You kind of thought there might be some romantic or even sexual tension between Calantha and Zephyra, but you brushed it off as you thought that might not be the artistic intention.

Once filming started, your days were basically exclusively spent on set. Not that you were complaining, you loved every second. Even after coming home at 1am when you left for work at 6am, a blissful smile would be painted across your tired face.

The only thing that bothered you was that you barely ever got to talk to Ruby on set. It was more your fault than hers. Every time you two were working together, your brain short circuited and you couldn’t get out anything more than a few dim-witted babbles. Ruby was always so sweet about it though, always lightheartedly chuckling at your barely-comprehensible speech, sometimes even giving your upper arm a squeeze if you felt especially nervous.

You knew she meant well, but any touch from your celebrity crush was sure to do the opposite of calming you down.

One day, during a filming session, you and Ruby were meant to be sitting especially close to each other. You were sure you felt some romantic tension between the two characters, but you chalked it up to your crush on the actress and tried to downplay it. The director, however, seemed very frustrated today, this was the nineteenth take of this particular scene and he still wasn’t happy.

“Cut!” He yelled, letting out a frustrated sigh as you and Ruby turned your attention towards him.

“Everything alright, sir?” Ruby asked, making you glad you weren’t the only one who noticed his irritation.

“This scene… it’s missing something.” He brought his hand to his chin and squinted at the both of you. “Do we think we could add a kiss? Right here?”

Your heart stopped, and all the moisture disappeared from your mouth.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t kissed people before. You had your fair share of dates back in high school, that wasn’t the problem.

You’ve kissed, but you’ve never stage kissed.

Sure you had plenty of acting experiences, but the roles you played never required kissing. Instead of playing Aurora, you made a fabulous Maleficent. While Elle Woods locked lips with Emmett, you were busy portraying a hilarious Paulette. And of course, nobody wants to make out with a zombie prom queen.

You had no idea if there was any difference between actual kisses and stage-kisses. Obviously, sex scenes in movies weren’t real. But kisses? What if there is a difference and you go to kiss Ruby on camera and make her uncomfortable? What if she pushes you away? What if she gets mad? You don’t know how you’d recover from something like that, and your mind swarmed with plans to flee the country if that did happen.

Ruby opened her mouth to answer the director, before looking at you for confirmation and noticing your overly-panicked state. She sent you a reassuring smile, and placed a gentle hand on your back.

She turned to the director. “Could we pick this up after lunch? I think my scene partner and I have some things to discuss.”

The director agreed, and since it was still about thirty minutes to lunch, decided to use that time to record some “room noise.” You and Ruby were meant to sit still and quietly, the only thing you heard being the echo of your heartbeat in your ears.

Suddenly, you received a text notification, causing sound to go off and the director to groan and shoot you an annoyed look. You mumbled a quick “sorry” before switching your phone to vibrate and looking to see who texted you.

After wolfing down a sandwich from the craft services table, you stood in front of the trailer with Ruby’s name on the door, wringing your clammy hands while deciding whether or not to knock. You took a deep breath, raised your knuckles, and knocked three times, taking a step back after.

She answered almost immediately, staring down at you with a comforting grin. “Hey, come on in.”

Walking up the stairs and into Ruby’s trailer, you couldn’t help but notice how much cleaner it was than yours. You weren’t necessarily sloppy, but your vanity was covered in various bottles of blue face paint, while your floor held multiple alien-like prosthetics. Ruby’s was tidier, with a small couch pushed up against the wall, and her vanity holding nothing but some makeup basics and a half-full can of Dr. Pepper she had been drinking right before you walked in.

Ruby took a seat in her vanity chair and took a sip from her Dr. Pepper, motioning for you to sit on the small couch. “What’s going on? You didn’t seem too comfortable with the kissing scene.”

You gulped, staring down at your lap. “It’s not that…”

Ruby sat up, leaning forward to gawk at you. “Oh my god… have you never been kissed?”

“What? No! Of course I have…” you trailed off. “I just… I’ve never stage kissed before, and I know you have, so is it any different from regular kissing? I feel so stupid for asking and I’m so sorry but I didn’t wanna do it wrong while filming and I’m kinda embarrassed that I don’t know the answer so that’s why I wanted to ask you privately because I didn’t wanna fuck up…”

Ruby stared at you, silent and wide eyed. You felt your heartbeat in your ears as you tried to decipher what she was thinking. Suddenly, she threw her head back and let out a hearty laugh. Your heart sank. Here you were being awkward and vulnerable in front of your crush, and she was laughing at you.

Just before you decided to get up and walk out, Ruby calmed down, wiping away a tear and smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry, I promise I’m not making fun of you. I didn’t mean to laugh, really. You’re just so cute.”

You felt your cheeks burn at her words. She thinks you’re cute?

Ruby threw her soda away in a nearby trash can and moved to sit next to you on the small couch. She criss-crossed her legs, turning to face you while pondering how to answer your question.

“So… stage kisses are different from regular kisses, but they’re also not, you know? Like, we’re kissing but we’re not like… kissing.”

She peered over at you, studying your facial expressions. You looked more confused than ever, so she continued her explanation.

“So, if you’re asking if my lips will physically be on your lips… then the answer is yes, they will. But they’re not exactly like the real thing, because it’s more of a demonstration to the audience rather than an act of passion between two people.”

“A demonstration?” You cocked your head. Ruby nodded.

“Yeah, so say the camera was over there…” she pointed out in front of you. “…then you might cup my jaw, or cradle the back of my head. But if you were to grab my face or something like that, it’d look pretty awkward in a fifty-fifty profile shot.”

You nodded in understanding. “Ok… I think I get what you’re saying.”

“There are also different types of kissing.” Ruby continued. “Like, it should portray how your character feels about the other character. When Zephyra has scenes with Calantha, how does she feel?”

You gulped, focusing on your lap again. “Well, to be honest, it kinda feels like there’s a lot of romantic or sexual tension between our characters, but I’ve sort of been suppressing it because I’m not sure that was the intention.”

“But you feel like Zephyra is attracted to Calantha sexually?” Ruby asked. You nodded. “Great! You don’t necessarily have to make it explicit, but something like that can help you dive deeper into your character.”

Ruby scooted closer to you, taking your hands in hers. She gazed at you with half lidded eyes, causing your breathing to accelerate.

“I want you to kiss me.”

Ruby’s words barely resonated in your head, there was no way you heard her correctly. “You… huh?”

“For practice.” Ruby clarified, letting go of your hands. “Like you would during filming. Is that ok?”

An involuntary swallow forced itself down your throat as you nodded. You couldn’t believe you were about to kiss your celebrity crush, even if it was only for practice.

You pressed your hand into her warm cheek, pulling her close and quickly pecking her lips before retreating away. Your face burned from embarrassment while Ruby cocked her head, clearly confused.

“That’s it?” She asked. “My bad, I didn’t realize Calantha was your grandmother.”

Ruby moved closer and cradled the back of your head, entangling her fingers into your soft locks. You felt your hands sweat as her big blue eyes gazed into yours. “I was thinking maybe something more like this…”

She crashed her lips into yours, causing warmth to explode in your chest. Her fingers played with your hair as you began to kiss back, and your arms wrapped around her waist. Holy shit could she kiss! You could barely fathom how soft her lips were, tasting faintly of Dr. Pepper and vanilla lip balm. As hard as you tried to act professional and pretend there was a camera in front of you, every inch of your body screamed at you to succumb to your most primal instincts.

You lifted one hand from her waist and moved to rest it on her mid-thigh, causing a gentle moan to escape from her lips and a shiver to run down her body. Startled, you moved back, throughly convinced that you majorly fucked up.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, pulling back your hand like it had touched fire. “I wasn’t thinking, fuck. I got too swept up in the moment. I shouldn’t have touched you, that was completely unprofessional.”

“Hm…?” Ruby blinked, still in a daze. “Oh. Oh! You’re good! Don’t be sorry. I liked it. Really.”

Ruby grinned at you shyly. You stared back at her, a question you weren’t quite sure how to ask lingering at the tip of your tongue. “Ruby, are still… practicing?”

Her smile faded as her eyes went wide and her gaze dropped to her lap. It was her turn to be coy, a sight you’d never seen before.

She dropped her voice to a low whisper as she choked out her question. “Do you want to be?”

Before you could even open your mouth to answer, your phone alarm screeched from your jacket pocket. You took it out, groaning as you turned it off.

Ruby furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “What was that?”

“My alarm,” you answered. “I have to go.”

“But lunch isn’t over for another twenty minutes.” Ruby pointed out, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Yeah, but I have to head back early so they can touch up my makeup and fix my prosthetics.”

Ruby sighed in understanding. She supposed your costume might have a bit more upkeep than hers. Your prosthetics did look a little wonky after the lunch break, never mind your smudged blue lipstain that made her apprehensive to look in a mirror.

You collected yourself and turned to walk out, but looked over your shoulder before opening the door. “Uhm… Ruby?”

“Hm?” She answered.

You wrung your hands anxiously. “Do you think we could maybe… do this again? Sometime?”

Ruby’s head shot up to look at you, and a playful smile spread across her face. “Do what? More kissing lessons?”

You rolled your eyes as she chuckled, then gave you a lopsided grin. “I’d like that. Lunch again, tomorrow?”

A blush pink color sprinkled across the apples of your cheeks as you smiled back at her, trying your best to stay cool and suppress the giddy feeling that was bubbling inside of you.

“See you then.”

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justmeinadaze · 10 months

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Ghost In The Machine (Eddie X You)

A/N: I wrote this a few days ago because I need it more than anything rn.

Title is based off of SZA's song "Ghost In The Machine".

"I give a fuck, I just wanna fuck, eat, sleep, love, happy Can you make me happy? Can you keep me happy?

Can you distract me from all the disaster? Can you touch on me and not call me after? Can you hate on me and mask it with laughter? Can you lead me to the ark? What's the password?

I need humanity You're like humanity"

They do text near the end. Eddie's texts will be in red.

Warnings: Daddy Dom Eddie X Stripper Sub (slight bratty) Fem Reader, SMUT, dirty talk, dry humping, phone smut, slight degrading if you squint, choking), Eddie is kinda mean at first, traumas are alluded to but not expanded on (Child abuse; bad past relationships), light FLUFF with my usual dash of the ANGST.

Word Count: 4060

Being asked to perform at parties like this wasn’t new for you and the other girls. Having the manager of a famous band reach out to your company for some “entertainment” wasn’t odd either. What was odd was that you were told Corroded Coffin had four band members and right now you were looking at three. They seemed content with the girls they had grinding and kissing on their lap so you decided to take a look around the mansion style home you guys had been called to.

It was extremely beautiful with a bunch of rooms displaying different things. Your fingers grazed the wall at the bottom of the bands framed platinum and gold albums. Turning into what you assumed was a game room, you found a billiards table and a PlayStation with a mini bar in the corner. Around the area, shelfs prominently showed off the band’s awards and accolades with MANY pictures of them in different places.

As you walked further down the hall, you passed an open-door smelling smoke and hearing light strumming of a guitar. Pausing, you took a couple of steps back to peer into the room, finding that missing fourth member.

He had headphones on over his long, wavy hair as a half-finished cigarette dangled from his lips. His eyes were closed as his fingers ran across the instruments strings as it leaned against his bare chest. His jeaned leg and barefoot tapped to a beat as he listened to his music.

“Jesus Christ!”, he exclaimed as his eyes shot open feeling a change in the atmosphere. “What the fuck are you doing over here?! You girls are supposed to stay in the goddamn living room.”

“Hey there’s no reason to be rude! Your friends were preoccupied with the other ladies so I thought I’d look around.”

“Uh huh. To steal shit?”

“No! To look. I got bored, ok?!”

“Hm. A hooker who’s bored. That’s something I haven’t heard before.” His tone is dripping with mocking as he rises to his feet.

“That’s no reason for you to be a fucking asshole!”

“You watch your mouth when you talk to me, little girl. I can make sure you and your ‘company’ never get another job again.”

“Oh, Mr. Tough Rockstar is oh no scary. Fuck you. I’ve handled way worse clients than the number 5 band on the billboard charts.”

The man’s held tilted to the side as he finally drank you in. You were visually different than what he expected when his friends had suggested reaching out to an agency to have some women come over to celebrate with since they were nominated for another Grammy. Eddie didn’t care about that kind of thing; he just wanted to play music. When he heard the car pull up, he immediately disappeared to his room to practice and write some new songs. Not that he wasn’t interested in “entertaining a woman”. This metalhead liked a challenge and he enjoyed even more a strong woman that wouldn’t just cater to his every whim. He didn’t want a woman who would get down on her knees no questions asked. Eddie wanted one who would tell him to fuck off but then after a few consensual activities would be dripping and begging for his cock.

Women were offered to him and his friends constantly. He wanted something he had to earn so that way when she finally submitted, it was all the more sweet.

“What’s your name?”, he asked in a much softer tone.

“Y/N. You?”

“Are you asking to be polite or do you genuinely not know who the guitarist of the band who is number five on the billboard charts?”

“Do you always make things this complicated?”

“Yes.” When he grins at you, you can’t help but smile back.

“Some of the other ladies find catering to a man’s ego really gets them going. I find it’s better to ask them questions, Mr. Munson, especially since most of our clients think we don’t care about them.”

“Do you? Care I mean.”

“Sometimes.”, you shrug.

“You’re honest. I like that.”

“I don’t really see the point in lying if I’m probably never going to see you again.”

“Do you WANT to see me again?”

This time it was your turn to tilt your head. He said that with a lot of the sass he had been giving you since he saw you but something else was behind his eyes when he spoke, something lonely. Your palm reached out confidently, landing on the bulge in his jeans. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice his size. The part of him that was against your hand wasn’t even all of him and you gulped as you tried to regain your confident composure.

“Do you want me to help you feel better now, Mr. Munson?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”, the guitarist mused as he stepped forward, placing his own palm against the wall behind you and trapping you against it. “I hate when my questions go unanswered.”

“You-you must be used to disappointment then.”

His nose grazed yours, grinning a big tooth filled smile before his eyes flicked down to your hand on his cock.

“You must be to, Y/N.” Slowly, his fingers trace down your arm and take hold of your wrist as he holds it still. “Be honest. Have you ever felt a dick as big as mine?”

You licked your lips as his hips began grinding against your palm, trying to push down the moan that wanted to escape.

“Ooo someone’s confident.”, you jest. Something in his look changes as the hand on the wall behind you slides down to your throat. In most situations with your other clients this would be a time to panic but he wasn’t gripping you violently. When his fingers firmly pressed into your skin, your brain felt fuzzy as your pussy clenched around nothing.

“I’d say I’ve earned the right to be confident. Now, Y/N, this your one warning. Answer the questions I ask you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes Mr. Munson. I understand. N-no. I’ve never felt a dick like yours.”

He smirked as he pressed your palm harder against him. “Good girl.” Your let out a sigh when he released his hold on your neck to push some of your hair behind your ear. “You really are beautiful, Y/N. Fuck and your hand feels so good. I can only imagine how the rest of you feels.”

“You don’t have to imagine. You can have me if you want me.”

Eddie’s smirk grows as he bites his bottom lip. “Honestly, sweetheart, I’ve never wanted anything more but…that’s not how I play. I don’t want you to fuck me because you’re paid to.” He leans in till his lips are right by your ear. “I want you to fuck me because you want to…need me to.” You hear his breathing stutter as he moves his hips faster, his grip on your wrist tightening. “Beg me to.”

“Oh fuck…”, you whimpered at his words. His movements become choppy and grunts before you feel dampness on his jeans.

He leans back placing his forehead on yours as he licks his lips and softly smiles. “See, what would usually happen now is I’d make you cum to. I bet that pussy is just aching to be touched but see…you’re getting to paid to make us feel good…not the other way around.”

You’re honestly too stunned to say anything or fight back with your typical brand of sass. Right now, all you can think of his him and how bad you need something from him; anything.

“Can…can I kiss you?”

When he nods, you waste no time connecting your lips to his. You immediately taste the nicotine but that undertone of him has you dizzy. All too quickly, it’s over as he pulls away. He doesn’t just move his head but his whole body as he backs towards his bed, yanking off his now stained jeans and boxers.

“How long are you ladies here for?”, he asks nonchalantly as he sits on the bed and picks up his guitar again.

“Huh? Oh, um, 2 AM I think.”

He glances at his phone before handing it to you. “Time’s almost up. Put your number in there for me.”

Eddie said it like a command and your instinct was to say something snarky but as you looked down at him strumming his instrument without looking at you, you realized there was more to this man than meets the eye. Most men who begged for your number always watched you intently to make sure you actually did it, you assumed. Of course, you gave them a fake number or the number to the agency you worked for but with this man here his head remained lowered. It was almost like he was afraid you wouldn’t…like he really hoped you would and would be hurt if he watched you decline, giving the phone back.

There was something about Eddie that you wanted to know more about. He wasn’t like everyone else you had been around. For some reason, you felt like you could trust him.

After inputting your real number, you placed his device back on his nightstand and sat beside him. “We still have 45 minutes. Can I ask what you’re working on?”

His eyes shoot over to you as he cautiously scans your soft smiling face. “We’re working on this new album and Jeff has this song he wrote but I can’t find the right sound. I was just messing around and recording them to see if it sparked something.”

“May I hear what you have so far?”

“Um, yeah, sure.”

He reached over, grabbing an extra set of headphones and placed them over you head. You grinned as different guitar riffs and melodies began to play.

“This is all you?” Eddie nods. “Wow. Mr. Munson, you are definitely talented.”

When he pauses the recording and you slide the headphones around your neck. “You can call me Eddie if you’d like.”

“Okay, Eddie.” After putting the headphones over your ears again, he pressed play and you both leaned back in his bed.

He couldn’t help but be a little shocked that you didn’t try to touch him again. Anywhere he or his band went, people tried to touch his body whether it was meet and greets, walking through the street, or even on stage when overzealous fans would jump on and run at them. Any girl that was lucky enough to be in his bed would insist on touching him until she left as if she knew this would be the last time she saw him. That’s another reason he struggled to maintain any kind of relationship. Besides the crazy rockstar life, he never was keen on being constantly touched.

He got enough of that with his career and when he was growing up when his dad would knock him around. With his last relationship, they fought constantly because there were times he would come home from a long day and just wanted a moment to decompress alone. He knew she meant well but even after nicely asking her to give him a moment she would still try and wrap her arms around him or try and kiss parts of his body.

What he didn’t know yet was that you understood that feeling all too well. Being in your line of work, men seemed to believe you didn’t even have a line they shouldn’t cross, always touching some part of your body until their time was up. When you were just a stripper at the company you worked for, men were the same but at least you had a bouncer to quickly pulled them back. When times got hard and you told your boss you were willing to sign up for the “side hustle”, it was just you and the girls.

No one had ever gotten too physical like that but after your client came you just wanted them to roll over and crash or just leave you there till the timer was up. Personally, you chose to stay away from relationships knowing most men wouldn’t like your line of business. Men constantly offered to “save you” but you knew it was all talk. They didn’t really care about you.

When you moved to the city, you promised you were only going to look out for yourself. You took care of you and had for a long time. The last time you relinquished control like that, you got burned and ran all the way to a new state.

A small hand tapped your knee and you jumped before realizing it was one of the other girls letting you know time was up.

“Ok, I’ll be right there.” You turn to Eddie and hand him his headphones. “I really like what you have so far. That last one was beautiful.”

“Thank you. Here, um, let me grab my sweatpants and I can walk you out.”

“Oh, Eddie, no. You don’t have to do that. It’s super late and in your gated front yard I don’t think anyone is going to jump us.”, you giggle.

“Ok…I’m going to put on pants anyway though because I want to hug you if that’s alright.” Without waiting for an answer, he finds a pair on the floor and pulls them up just below his hips.

“Do arms not work without sweats?”

“They do but I don’t want to be disrespectful by rubbing my dick on you and making you uncomfortable.”

“Didn’t I just…”

“You made that move, sweetheart. You put your hand on me.”, he grins as he places his body in front of yours. “May I hug you?”

When you nod, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest as your own limbs cling to his upper torso. This was a new feeling for you. It had been so long since you felt safe in someone’s arms. His hand petted your hair as he kissed the top of your head.

“I’ll talk to you later to make sure you’re alright.”

***

You sighed as you entered your front door, putting away your things, and throwing yourself on your bed as you closed your eyes. A sudden ding on your phone made your eyebrows scrunch as you blindly searched for it on your bed. Swiping it open, you noticed it was from an unknown number but as you read the message, a smile slowly formed on your face.

“Hey, sweetheart. Just checking in to make sure you got home alright.”

“Are you stalking me, Mr. Munson? Lol. I literally just walked in the door.”

Tossing your phone back on the bed, you figure it will most likely take him awhile to respond but as you go to your closet to change you hear that familiar ding.

“Yup. You caught me. I followed you home.”

“Shit. I just realized that’s probably not a joke I should be making in your line of work.”

“I was just thinking about you and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Lol Eddie! If I thought you were like that I wouldn’t have given you my number : ) “

“I’m alright though. Thank you for checking up on me.”

“Of course. I’ll leave you alone now so you can sleep.”

“I actually wasn’t going to go to sleep just yet.”

You paused for a moment debating on if you should tell him what you were going to do before bed. You were hoping if you did maybe he would talk to you like he did in his bedroom. Hearing him murmur his words and what he said got you wetter than anything else. You could still feel your slick sticking to your legs after you changed your clothes. Hell, it couldn’t hurt, right?

“I just got back from spending some time with this long haired rockstar with a huge cock who got me all hot and bothered so I was going to relieve some of this pressure here.”

You watched the dots on his end appear and disappear. The longer it took him the more nervous you got. Had you crossed a line?

“Don’t talk like that. Be upfront and honest. Talk to me like a big girl. What were you going to do before bed, Y/N?”

You could almost feel his stern eyes through the screen as you rubbed your thighs together.

“I was going to touch myself and think of you.”

His name suddenly popped up on your phone and you didn’t hesitate to answer the call.

“Hey Eddie.”

“Are you still wearing what you had on here?”

“No. I’m naked now.”

“Liar.”

“Eddie, I’m not—”

“Call me back when you’re ready to be a good girl.”

Your jaw dropped as he hung up and you huffed as you called him backed. “How dare you—”

“I don’t play games like that, little girl, and I hate liars. I figured since I got you all riled up and you are no longer on the clock maybe I could help you out. I also thought it would be fucking sexy to hear what you sound like when you cum. But if you want to cop an attitude with me, I can treat you how bratty little girls deserve to be treated. Now…what are you wearing?”

“I’m wearing an oversized t-shirt with my panties from earlier.”

He could hear your pout through the phone and it was making him hard all over again.

“Good. Good girl. Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?”

“I don’t know. I just… I always have to be SEXY; you know? God forbid I show any humanity.”

“Not with me, princess. I imagine you look just as sexy now as you did looking up at me with those big, beautiful eyes against my bedroom wall."

“Thank you, Mr. Munson.”

“Of course. Now tell me, baby. You said you were going to touch yourself and think of me. What about me?”

“I was thinking about the way your lips tasted when you kissed me…so good.”

“The cigarette taste didn’t bother you?”, he chuckled making you smile as one of your hands roamed up your shirt to touch your breast.

“No. Not at all.”, you giggle back, biting your bottom lip.

“That’s good. I’ve had some complaints.” You can hear him smile and your fingers run along your nipple as your exhale heavily. “What are you doing over there, honey?”

“I’m playing with my tits.”

“Mmm. You did have some perfect tits. Well, from what I saw under that tight ass tank top.”

That makes you genuinely laugh and his smile grows at the sound. “What else were you going to think about?”

Your hand slides under the waistband of your panties as your finger slides through your dripping folds.

“I was going to think about your thick cock against my palm and the way you rubbed against it.”

“Yeah? You’re going to imagine me doing that right now between those gorgeous legs? Grinding my dick against your pretty little pussy.”

“F-fuck, Eddie.” Your eyes rolled back as two of your fingers breached your entrance. “Please…keep talking to me…like that.”

“You like the way I talk to you? Was that something else you were going to think about? Picturing me whispering in your ear like I did when you were here?”

You didn’t know but he was leading you somewhere. There was one thing he wanted, needed to hear you say on your own. As soon as he heard it, he was yours and he would do anything to make you his.

“Yes, I liked hearing you say the things you said.”

Eddie could hear you touching yourself and your little moans were driving him crazy as he quickly pulled down his pants.

“Princess, is it ok if I touch myself to?”

“Yeah, baby. Of course. A-are you—mmm—still a bit sensitive?” The sound of him spitting in his hand had you clench tightly as you whimpered.

“Ah, no, baby girl. But with those sexy fucking whimpers and groans I’m not going to last long.”, he chuckled. “How many fingers are you using?” You barely heard him as you thumb began messaging your clit. “I asked you something, sweetheart. What did I say when you were here?”

“If-if—mmm—you ask…me…something I-I answer.”

“Good girl. Tell me how many fingers you’re using.”

“Fuck…two. Two, Daddy.”

Eddie practically growled with pleasure at the word that he had been praying would fall from your lips.

“Jesus, yes. Good fucking girl. I want you to use three. You…you have to prepare that pretty pussy for… Daddy’s big cock.”

As soon as you did as he asked, the English language completely escaped your mind.

“I…your…oh my…” He grunted in your ear reminding you of when he was pressed against you sending you toppling over the edge as you came hard. The sound was almost too much for him as he pictured your cunt spasming around him as you moaned his name just as you had. For the second time that night you made him cum as his spend shot out and hit his stomach.

“Are you ok?”, you mumbled, drunk off your orgasm.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m alright. Are you?”

“I’ve never called anyone Daddy before.” You had no idea why you were being so honest with him. That wasn’t necessarily something he needed to know but for some reason you thought maybe the knowledge of that would make him feel special. You wanted him to feel good.

“What made you say it now?”

You scoot your body further into your bed as you curl up into your sheets.

“I feel safe with you. I know that sounds so weird. We barely even know each other but I do…”

You listened to the soothing sound of his breath into the phone as he absorbed what you were saying.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I can be a bit of an asshole sometimes.”

“I can handle the asshole.” You smile when you hear him softly laugh.

“On Friday, we’re going to be spending some time at the recording studio. Do you want come by and listen to us play?”

“I would love to but I have to work Friday night.”

“How about you come by in the afternoon and then go to work? Are you…um…”

“No, side business Friday. I’ll just be dancing.”

“Ok, cool. Maybe when we’re done, I can meet up with you after.”

“Eddie…I like you a lot but are you sure you want to do this? I strip and I have sex for money. I’m not proud of it but I’m not ashamed of it either. I’m doing what I have to do right now.”

He was silent for a moment as he thought about what you were saying.

“Y/N, I’m not perfect. I’ve been arrested, gotten into fights with paparazzi, and like I said I can be a bit of an asshole. I like you a lot to but I understand that this is all new. You and I lead interesting lives. I’m not…going to harp on you and I’m not going to, I don’t know, offer to fucking save you or whatever other douchebags say.” You laugh making him smile. “But I would like to take care of you…physically, mentally, emotionally…financially.”

“I don’t know how to give up control like that.”

The way you say that makes him want to scoop you up in his arms and cradle you into his chest.

“Do you work tomorrow?”

“No, not tomorrow.”

“Can I come over so we can talk? We’re doing this stupid photoshoot thing but I can come over after and bring some food. Of course, only if you’re comfortable. That’s all that really matters to me, baby girl. I want you to be comfortable.”

You don’t know why but you believed him when he said it. What was it about this man that had you breaking all your normal rules? Not just rules with the business but in your life. You had been on your own for so long that you didn’t need nor want to become involved with someone. However, it would be nice to have someone take care of you for once…

“Okay, Daddy”

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spenzitz · 8 months

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dazai with a scarred s/o

some headcannons and a little drabble! the headcanons are from a random brain dump i sent one of my moots... my bad

t/w ~ light mentions of blood, scars, fluff!! w/c ~ 1k

i headcanon dazai to have a pretty decent amount of scars under his bandages, self-inflicted or otherwise, so if he had a s/o who had lots of scars or stretch marks, he would be extremely supportive. esp beauty marks!!!! this man loves beauty marks tells you how even though it’s a permanent score of your bad experiences, it also paints a breathtaking picture of the person you are. in a way it’s also healing for himself, reassurance that if you, the person he loves dearly, have marks on their body, then his don’t have to be inherently bad either maybe you feel self-conscious about showing more skin during the summer, he’s so encouraging, tells you how proud he is of you for wearing that tank top you’ve had for ages

most days, especially in the winter, you forget about your scars. coats and jeans covering any permanent discoloration or texture variation on your body. they’re not something you actively think about, it’s not like you see them every day, and even if you do, it’s not for very long. you no longer get a stinging feeling when your shirt brushes against the scars across your chest. the blood has long dried up.

but, with melting snow comes sweltering heat. heat that makes your usual ensemble of sweaters and thick jeans, not an option this morning.

the agency had decided to take advantage of the warmth in the spring air and have a picnic. of course, you were excited, the agency was your family, and time with them was always time well spent. the only problem was what you were going to wear…

dazai has watched you come in and out of the bathroom almost four times this morning. switching between breathable and overly modest clothing every time. but even from inside your dorm with the blinds closed and the fan blowing on max, the heat was terrible.

you start to head back to the closet on your fourth attempt, inevitably picking another outfit too warm for the summer months, only to have your ankle grabbed by the sloth-like creature lying on the floor that you called your boyfriend.

“hey!” you laugh out, almost tripping before finding your balance and joining dazai on the floor. you sit criss-cross-applesauce in front of him as he emerges from your futon. you show a genuine smile as he yawns and takes your hands in his.

he wears a soft smile as he looks at you, his amazing partner, so capable, so attractive.

“can you just wear what you have on so we can leave already?” he says, kinda bossy, mostly annoyed. you were supposed to leave half an hour ago, he’s probably starving at this point.

“sorry, sorry… let me just put on what i was already wearing,” you say, starting to push yourself up off the floor.

again, dazai drags you back down to the floor with him, this time clutching you to his chest from behind and seating you in his lap. “nah, s’too hot for that,” he slurs his words as he pushes his face deeper into your neck. you squirm a little from the close proximity, not sure what to do with your body.

if you were being honest though, a part of you was anxious about where his hands would wander, as they usually did. you were currently dressed in shorts and a tank top, something you usually wouldn’t be caught dead in. even behind closed doors you opted to cover most of your skin, to your boyfriend’s dismay. so to say dazai was happy to see more of you in broad daylight was an understatement.

he had seen your scars before, but only once or twice, in the dead of night, with no one else around. they were fond memories of his. the first time was when you two weren’t dating but you certainly weren't just friends either. you had been pretty severely injured but you refused any kind of help. that was, until dazai walked you to your dorm and insisted he bandage you up stating that he’s “a professional at this point.”

he remembers how even though he found you very attractive and had probably thought about you with your shirt off in a different context, there was nothing even remotely sensual about that night. he didn’t ask any questions about your scars until you were dating, and even then, he was never pushy about it. the second time he’d seen your scars, it was very late, and you’d both had a few drinks. you both started asking questions about each other’s pasts and you both answered them as honestly as you could. you showed him your scars, and he showed you his.

dazai thinks about that night now, as he holds you close and traces a light finger across a particularly large gash on your shoulder, half covered by your top and the rest peaking out for anyone to see and ponder the origin.

”you told me you wanted to be more confident in your body right?” he asks you in a gentle voice, pressing a light kiss into your exposed shoulder blade. “yes…” you whisper back, fidgeting with your fingers as you’re suddenly much too aware of how much skin is showing.

“then this is a perfect start. you know everyone will be nothing but supportive.” he pauses to kiss your cheek before saying, “you really are your own worst enemy sometimes, you know that?”

his words had a twinge of harshness to them, but you knew he was right. not to mention there was no way you would enjoy yourself drenched in sweat.

you turn to face him in his lap and rest your head on his shoulder, which he gladly cradles. “i know you’re right.. it’s just hard y’know?” you start absentmindedly picking at the bandages peaking out of his sleeves. yeah, he does know.

“nothing my y/n can’t handle hm?”

you take a few breaths, enjoying the proximity. if only other people knew how sweet he could be.

“yeah, you’re right.” you sigh and sit up straight, parting from him with a kiss on his nose as you pull yourself up. he whines from the loss of contact but follows shortly after you.

you take one last pass by the mirror and push past your reservations. dazai was right, these people love and support you no matter what, you know that. what better direction to step out of your comfort zone than that?

masterlist

#dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x y/n

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zuko-always-lies · 4 days

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Aaron Ehazs's idealistic concept of Azula's redemption with Zuko ~guiding her out of abyss~ doesn't sit right with me considering Zuko, intentionally or not, played a great reason why Azula hit rock bottom in the first place. Yes, Ozai ruined her life, but Zuko was the one who pushed the domino that led to her most traumatic breakdown she'd ever experienced. Not to menion 90% of the series he viewed her as an obstacle/rival and suddenly the next season he would supposed to be her Iroh?

It also rubs me wrong that Zuko is the only person he mentioned, almost like Azula's healing, her identity, her world, her agency, HAS to be centered around her brother. Thank god there wasn't fourth season.

I have to agree. Zuko and Iroh are the people who both never showed her an ounce of kindness and who are directly responsible for ruining her life. Having her "redemption" be about her forgiving and obeying them and hating herself and her actions due to their "kindness" feels wrong. It feels like Azula is crawling back to people who never cared about her when it mattered, just because she's so deep in despair that she can be bribed by the slightest trinket, the slightest sliver of hope that someone might slightly care about her

#Azula

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canonmisogynyvictimstournament · 7 months

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PROPAGANDA

EVE (PARADISE LOST)

1.) I recognise how insane this submission is because this was written in 1667 and so attitudes towards women were obviously very different. But misogyny has always existed, no matter the time period, and so I think it’s fair to pick up on it. Although Milton somewhat avoids painting Eve as the wicked seductress, she is nevertheless presented as inherently inferior to Adam - her ‘virtue’ and 'passion’ are supposed to be an equal counterpart to Adam’s intellect but Milton’s clear resentment of Eve shines through. She is vain from the beginning - enamoured with her own reflection until she meets Adam. She is Adam’s subordinate and readily accepts her place in the hierarchy below him, until she meets Satan. Women seeking power and knowledge is therefore inextricably tied to the fall of mankind. Her attempt for some kind of independence away from Adam (going to tend the garden away from him) is also presented as the primary reason she succumbed to Satan because Adam is needed to protect her. Eve (the mother of all women) therefore creates the assumption that women are weak and easily misled away from men. The description of her eating the apple is very sexual - perhaps reflecting the anxieties of men at the time of being cuckolded and therefore dishonoured by their wives. She is the ultimate disobedient, dangerous wife. Her reason for sharing the forbidden knowledge with Adam, rather than keeping it for herself, is because she is worried she will face the wrath of God and be replaced with another Eve. So it is her jealousy that brings them both down. (It is all a lot more complicated than this so Eng lit people don’t kill me) but yeah poor Eve.

CORDELIA CHASE (BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER/ANGEL THE SERIES) (CW: Pregnancy)

1.) (downs an entire bottle of vodka and slams it back on the table) SO. CORDY. Cordy started off as a supporting character in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. At the start she was your typical high school mean girl character, but as the show went on we got to see more depth to her character: her insecurities, her courage, her capacity for incredible acts of kindness. Then after the third season she moved into the show’s spin off, Angel, where from the beginning she was basically the show’s secondary protagonist. Her and Angel were the two mainstays of the show’s main cast, she gets the most episodes centered on her out of all the characters aside from Angel (and yes, I’ve checked), and we really got to see her grow from a very shallow and self-centered and kind of mean person to a true hero who was prepared to give up any chance at a normal life to fight the good fight while still never losing the basic core of her character. There were some… questionable moments like the episode where she gets mystically pregnant with demon babies and things got a bit iffy like halfway through season 3 where the writers seemed to run out of ideas for what to do with her outside of sticking her in this romance drama/love triangle situation with the main character but overall, pretty good stuff right? THEN SEASON 4 HAPPENED. In season 4 she gets stripped of literally all agency and spends pretty much the entire season possessed by an evil higher power, and while possessed she sleeps with Angel’s teenage son (who BY THE WAY she had helped raise as a baby before he got speed-grown-up into a teenager it was a whole thing don’t worry about it) and gets pregnant with like. the physical manifestation of the higher power that’s possessing her. it’s about as bad and stupid as it sounds and also is like the third time cordy’s got mystically pregnant in this show and like the fourth mystical pregnancy storyline overall (you will be hearing more on that note in other submissions I’m so sorry). after giving birth she goes into a coma, in which she remains for the rest of season 4 and the first half of season 5. SPEAKING OF WHICH DON’T THINK SEASON 5 IS GETTING OFF SCOT FREE HERE. yeah so in season 5 the show just FULLY starts trying to erase cordy’s existence. she gets mentioned ONCE in the first episode and then never again until halfway through the season where she wakes up, helps out Angel for a bit and encourages him in his fight against evil, and then goes quietly into that good night and dies so it can be all sad and tragic. I’d call it the worst fridging of all time but even THAT feels generous because the whole point of fridging is killing off a female character so a man can be sad, and after Cordy dies basically no one’s even sad about it because the show immediately goes back to pretending she never existed. she is not mentioned ONCE in the two episodes after she dies. in the whole stretch of time between her death and the end of the season she gets mentioned exactly four times. again, I counted. anyway the fun twist to all of this is that all of this happened because the actress who played cordy got pregnant before season 4 and joss whedon was so pissed off about this affecting his plans for the show that he decided to completely fuck over her character and then fire her and write her out of the show. so cordy’s a victim of both writing AND real life misogyny!! good times!!

2.) OH SO MANY THINGS they menaced by giving her terrible hair cuts, making her seem like she’d get together with the guy she loves (and who loves her back) but instead she was killed and when she was brought back, she got possessed by an evil entity who used her body to give birth to itself. afterwards she was in a long coma and died. her character was so throughoutly assassinated

3.) She got demonically pregnant TWICE - there was this real sense of a womb/ability to get pregnant as like, a place for evil to get in. She got positioned as femme fatale and evil mother. The actress basically got fired for being pregnant, and when she agreed to come back for a single final episode she specifically said they could do anything but kill off the character. Guess what happened

#polls #round 2 #week 4 #new #cw pregnancy

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gallifreyanhotfive · 1 month

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Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 38: Gallifrey at War Part 6

Tw: body horror, Time War stuff, death and destruction, lots of disturbing stuff, etc etc

During the Last Great Time War, Dalek experiments included mutating humans into Daleks to be used as cannon fodder. (Novel: Engines of War)

To fight against the Daleks, the Time Lords not only used Battle TARDISes but also time scooped N Forms, Bowships, and Black Hole Carriers from their own past to add to their forces. (Novel: A Brief History of Time Lords)

Mr. Saldaamir was a friend of the Doctor's parents. He originated before the first Time Wars, which erased his entire planet and left him as the last of his kind. (Short story: Mr. Saldaamir)

Gabrielideans are a race of liquid protean bioforms. During the War in Heaven, the Time Lords allied with them but poured packets of powder into them, which altered their biodata to an extent that it changed their physical form. This was to ensure that the Gabrielideans would be able to use humanoid skinsuits. (Novel: The Book of War; Alien Bodies)

The First Law of Time broke down during the War in Heaven, causing the War to spill over into the pre-War Era. Indeed, the Eighth Doctor (and other early incarnations, notably the Third but also the Fourth, etc etc) all had interactions with a future War. (Novel: Alien Bodies; Unnatural History; The Taking of Planet 5; Interference; Verdigris; Toy Story; Audio: The Judgment of Sutekh; Television: Pyramids of Mars; I don't think I'm missing any citations, but honestly I probably am. This happened A LOT lol)

The Predator Dalek is two times the size of a normal Dalek. The interior has a seat inside of it, surrounded by monitors, dials, probes, and spikes, including a large needle which would insert in the soft tissue at the back of a humanoid skull. This was intended to house the War Doctor inside of it. (Novel: Engines of War)

During the War in Heaven, the Celestis had used a fictional generator to bring to life H.P. Lovecraft's Elder Things. A group of Time Lords purposefully regenerated into bodies resembling these Elder Things in order to blend in and complete their mission. (Novel: The Taking of Planet 5)

The Celestis were the elite members of the old Celestial Intervention Agency who removed themselves from history to escape the War in Heaven. Other Houses typically thought of them as monstrosities. (Novel: Alien Bodies; The Book of War)

Project Revenant was a project set up by the War Council during the Last Great Time War to resurrect dead Time Lords from the Matrix. (Audio: Celestial Intervention)

It was housed in a pocket dimension connect to Gallifrey through the Death Zone, but when Daleks invaded the pocket universe to use the Project for their own ends, the pocket dimension was destroyed but not before the power core was removed. This power core allowed for the resurrection of Rassilon. His Martrix projection was imprinted on Valerian, which ended in Valerian's death. (Audio: Desperate Measures)

The planet Reave in the constellation of Kasterborous was so anti-Gallifrey during the Last Great Time War that they had graffiti depicting the demise of Time Lords and would douse their streets in Praxis gas to choke out any Gallifreyan that may be hiding in their midst. This was largely because the High Council was sanctioning terrorist attacks to blow up Reave's factories, but that did not prevent Gallifreyans not responsible for the attacks - like the Eighth Doctor - from getting Praxis gassed. (Audio: A Heart on Both Sides)

Considering that events in the Last Great Time War were constantly in a state of temporal flux, it was impossible to know for sure what happened. In truth, everything "has happened, then not happened at all, then happened again but at a different time entirely." (Novel: A Brief History of Time Lords)

The Moon of Tenacity was the site of a Gallifreyan Military Moon Base. The Eighth Doctor and his companions were taken here after they were captured. His companions were locked away to convince the Doctor to fight in the Time War, and he was conscripted to the recruitment camp. (Audio: The Conscript)

The Faction Paradox members wear masks made of skulls. These skulls sometimes belonged to Time Lords from an alternate universe where they lost the Eternal War. (Novel: Alien Bodies)

Not all Faction Paradox members used these AU Time Lord skulls though. Some wore the skulls of other species, and Godfather Auteur had his actual skull exposed. This was because his skin had been ripped off, so his body was just bones held together by shadows. (Short story: A Bloody (And Public) Domain)

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why-what-no · 1 year

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Dating George Karim Would Include

Pairing: George Karim x Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: Meant to get this out the day before yesterday, but here you go now:

George met you while you were both researching your own cases. It was exactly like that scene in movies where your fingers brushed against each other's as you both reached for a book.

Honestly, George normally would have snatched the book up, ignoring manners and making sure he had it before anyone else. But you were so attractive and apologetic about it that he offered to let you take it first

Not his smartest decision, he realized right after speaking. His mission was time sensitive, and he shouldn’t be wasting time because a cute agent spoke to him.

Meaning that he was so relieved when you offered to share. To work together.

After that, although he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he thought about you as he was falling asleep.

Did you enjoy working with him? Did he manage to avoid saying anything too strange?

The kind of things he would normally avoid thinking of, but something about you just… he wanted you to think well of him

Which was why when the next time you say him in the library - and you waved to him happily - he felt so relieved. Even more so when you came over to speak to him

After that, you two made plans to hang out again. Until your third or fourth meeting when you officially asked him on a date

Honestly, he was a little embarrassed not to be the one to ask, but he made up for it by making the first move to kiss.

And it was an amazing kiss.

It wouldn’t take long for you to start hanging out at 35 Portland row, eventually just joining Lockwood and co and moving in.

Making George happier than ever, so glad to be able to see you every day. Do all those menial and domestic things with you every day.

You’d always be with him while he cooked, either sitting at the table and looking cute ;) or joining in and helping. Honestly, he was happy either way.

You two are the quickest researchers in the business. Irreplaceable by Lockwood and co and desired by almost all of the other agencies.

As a duo, there was nothing you couldn’t figure out

He’d read to you at night, cuddles up in bed with a huge book. His soft voice lulling you to sleep.

You’d begin to mimic some of the other person’s habits after a while. With him adopting some of your mannerisms and you adopting some of his need to have things in a particular order.

Which made you both chuckle, warmed at the thought of connecting on that level.

He's just glad to have someone who understands and accepts him as much as you do. He finally feels like he knows what it feels like to love and be loved by someone unconditionally.

George prefers clear communication. Always wanting to know how you're feeling. Therefore you two are the healthiest couple you know.

You wouldn't give up your relationship with each other for anything in the world

#lockwood and co headcanons #lockwood and co x reader #Lockwood and co #George Karim #george karim x reader #George Karim Headcanons #Lockwood and co George #Lockwood and co George x reader #Lockwood and co George Headcanons #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #Lockwood and co George Karim x reader #Lockwood and co George Karim #Lockwood and co George Karim Headcanons

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wheretosearchforsnow · 4 months

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Destiel in Season 4 and 5 of Supernatural and Death of God

German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche’s well-known phrase “God is dead,” introducing the idea of the missing God, laid the foundation for one of the most important topics in the 20th century Existentialist Movement. The possibility of God’s non-existence means that everything that is possible to happen can happen, and if everything is allowed, how can man choose? How can man know how to live? If everything is allowed, can there be we define right from wrong?

Such questions are asked on Supernatural, with the character Castiel first appearing at the end of the first episode in the fourth season, which marked the series’ introduction of Christian mythology as a central them ever since. Castiel, an Angel of the Lord, initially shows complete devotion to God and identifies as servant of heaven:

CASTIEL: We have no choice. DEAN: Of course you have a choice. I mean, come on, what? You’ve never questioned a crap order, huh? What are you both, just a couple of hammers? CASTIEL: Look, even if you can’t understand it, have faith. The plan is just. SAM: How can you even say that? CASTIEL: Because it comes from heaven, that makes it just. - 4.07 It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester

This argument on the morality behind the act of “purifying a city” or “taking one thousand two hundred fourteen lives” between Castiel and the Winchesters is not dissimilar with Danish theologian Søren Kierkegaard’s discussion on Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac. When Abraham was told that as a result of God's will that he must sacrifice his son Isaac, he was in a kind of either-or. If the message is genuinely from God, then he must sacrifice Isaac and it is the right thing to do; but if the message is not from God, then he would be committing what would be the very worst possible crime judged on the basis of Abraham's own view of human ethics.

The dichotomy here, between Castiel’s and Dean’s rationales, is that while the former believes there is a God and God and religion (in other words, heaven’s plan for earth) are the most important things, and man must do nothing but obey heaven’s command, the latter insists that there is no God and it is for man to take the total burden of responsibility for the world and for himself upon his own shoulders, with no one to give him any sign.

Though the former seems to suggest a lack of agency or necessity for decision making in moral judgement, as the plot unfolds, we see Castiel demonstrate a sense of uncertainty, the very secret he voices in the conversation with Dean in the episode’s epilogue.

CASTIEL: I’m not a… hammer as you say. I have questions, I have doubts. I don’t know what is right and what is wrong anymore, whether you passed or failed here. But in the coming months you will have more decisions to make. I don’t envy the weight that’s on your shoulders, Dean. I truly don’t. - 4.07 It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester

This mirrors Kierkegaard’s Abraham in his questions on God’s will. Indeed, how is one to know whether the command is from God or not? If an angel speaks to him, how does Abraham know it's not a hallucination? And if God himself speaks, how is Abraham, or Castiel, to know whether this is really God or whether the command is their own inward evil wishes? Nobody but Abraham, or Castiel, can decide and they cannot tell within his life whether he has done the right thing or not.

Perhaps it is this introspective nature in Castiel that draws him close to Dean, the human in his charge, and by implication humanity. Dean, a firm non-believer and what many, including himself, perceive to be as farthest from being servant of God as possible, detests the idea of God even in face of angels walking the earth.

DEAN: God? CASTIEL: Yes. DEAN: God. CASTIEL: Yes! He isn't in heaven. He has to be somewhere. DEAN: Try New Mexico. I hear he's on a tortilla. CASTIEL: No, he's not on any flatbread. DEAN: Listen, Chuckles, even if there is a God, he is either dead—and that's the generous theory— CASTIEL: He is out there, Dean. DEAN: —or he's up and kicking and doesn't give a rat's ass about any of us. CASTIEL glares. DEAN: I mean, look around you, man. The world is in the toilet. We are literally at the end of days here, and he's off somewhere drinking booze out of a coconut. All right? - 5.02 Good God, Y'all

Dean has no intention of trying to prove that God does not exist, as one cannot prove a negative, but the very specific objection to the traditional concept of God above parallels with the simple objection in many existentialists work that is based upon the injustice of the universe. Albert Camus has given this same type of criticism in his novel, "The Plague", in which the priest, Padalu, confesses that he is not able to understand how there can be any justification so that even eternal paradise could cancel out the sufferings here on earth of one innocent child. Why, Deans asks, if God is all powerful, does man have to suffer? If God is merciful, then how can he sentence man, any man at all to eternal damnation?

There is an optimistic side to this. As the repetitive occurrence of the term “free will” on this show suggests, if God exists, man is nothing; but if God does not exist, then man is free to choose what he wants to make himself. But for Castiel to arrive at this destination, it first takes him to undergo a two-season long crisis.

ANNA: What do you want from me, Castiel? CASTIEL: I'm considering disobedience. ANNA nods. ANNA: Good. CASTIEL: No, it isn't. For the first time, I feel... ANNA: It gets worse. Choosing your own course of action is confusing, terrifying. ANNA puts her hand on CASTIEL's shoulder. He looks at it; she drops it. ANNA: That's right. You're too good for my help. I'm just trash. A walking blasphemy. ANNA turns to walk away. CASTIEL: Anna. ANNA stops. CASTIEL: I don't know what to do. Please tell me what to do. ANNA turns back. ANNA: Like the old days? No. I'm sorry. It's time to think for yourself. - 4.16 On the Head of a Pin

If God isn’t out there, then Castiel has nowhere to turn. This dreadful realization may best be articulated through Hazel Barnes’ analogy that as if one would try to judge a Ford car without any Mr. Ford. So long as there is a Mr. Ford or one of his agents, then one has a model, one has a blueprint and one can say that the car which is coming there off the assembly line is a perfect Ford or an imperfect Ford. But without a plan, one cannot judge a car, and without God, there is no plan for Castiel and there is no final point of reference by which he can judge his values, or right or wrong, or declare that he has lived up to his possibilities or not lived up to his possibilities.

Yet despite “choosing your own course of action” being “confusing, terrifying,” Castiel is not in total despair. Dean, the human equivalent of the burden of a self-creative life, provides reference for Castiel on how to live a life as if there were no God. I have concluded thus that in the context of existentialism Castiel seeks Dean and humanity for answers and view them as his destination.

Note: this article is MOSTLY arguments in Hazel Barnes’ Self Encounter 2: The Far Side of Despair.

#destiel #supernatural #spn #castiel #dean winchester #existentialism #cas meta #dean meta

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callsigns-haze · 4 months

Text

Pretty like a crime

Chapter 4

Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: This is the fourth post to my new series so please be nice! I'm going to try to make this into a series so please show this story a bit of love and reblog!

Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...

Warning: Mentions of gun use, ptsd, mentions of death, mentions of shooting, flirting, mentions of abuse, description of dead body, death, blood, undercover work, alcohol use.

Part 1/ Part 2/Part 3

"Come on, Justin, they're not THAT bad," you say as the two of you walk on the icy footpaths back home from the fancy, uniformed, private school the two of you attend together. As always on the way back, you always discuss the rude people in your classes and the backstabbing ones that one second are nice and the other they hate your guts and in the classes you attend that happened on a day to day basis.

"Did you see the way Paris stared you down once she saw that you earned full marks and not like her losing only six," he says, readjusting his bag strap as it slowly slipped off his shoulder. He was right, Paris hated your guts ever since the two of you started the first year, she saw you as a competition, a threat but you didn't care, not about her opinion anyway. "Come on, I'm not going to think about Paris anymore! It's Christmas break, and she's the last thing on my mind!" You exclaim as you rub your mitten covered hands together to cause some warming friction.

"Yeah, two weeks with my dad home," he groans. Justin and his father didn't share the best kind of relationship. His dad was always working abroad but wanted his two sons to be top notch, at school, sports and in life. In his father's words, 'he didn't want failures', which you thought was out of line. His dad and Tom were quite great friends, though he did see how sometimes Mr. Cadence was out of hand.

"You can always come over to my place, from time to time," you suggest to Justin, knowing that he'll show up at your window late at night anyway. He needed an escape from his family life, from reality and with you he had that. You never judged him or winced in disgust but understood him, listened to him and let him express himself. "You know I'll be there." "Yeah, I do. But my pop's or mam don't mind you around so you're welcome any time. Not only through my window."

You adjusted to Tom and Sarah, they were your true family. Your mother and father figure, a while back they adopted you and you became a Kazansky, you were part of the family and they were your parents. The people you need in your life and the support you'll always will need. They were your home. Your feeling of safety.

"I'll think about it, just give me time and we'll see each other. Even if it's on your roof." He says laughing as you two make it to your house gates. It was a big house, a milky white colour with old tangled vines wrapping up the edges' gripping onto the building. It wasn't a big walk from the gates to the door but I did have a quite wide driveway with a fountain in the central like some sort of roundabout. "Hey, when are your parents home?" Justin asks as you lean against the metal cool bars that prickle through your jacket. "Well since today was a half day so in around five to seven hours, why though?" You asks as the you push the gate open walking in and Justin is right on your heals.

"Well I have till the normal time we get home and since your parents aren't home how about we leave our things here and head to the pier." He suggests as you knock on the door and wait till one of the maids opens it. It was a good idea and it's not like Tom or Sarah would mind since ideally you should be at school. "Yeah let's do it."

---------

'Y/N, whenever you are ready, brush down your dress and adjust your shoe strap,' the commander's voice echoed through the earpiece. You and the whole dagger crew were currently on a night long undercover mission. For the big mission, you need an intel, someone who could lead you in, someone who could be the distraction in the operation for you to get through.

You make your way to the top of the stairs and slowly drag your feet along the red silky carpet. You make your way to a dim lighted corner and bend over to adjust your shoe and then smoothen out your dress. That's the signal for Jake, Bradley and Natasha to meet you upstairs in room 13. The four of you would make your way to the door but sadly the bodyguards there will have to let you pass. They're big and stubborn, not the kind of people you like to mess with but you need an intel and a cover-up so that's the only true reason for the group being here.

The three make their way up the stairs and meet you at the top. You all shared a light look of approval and you make your way to the guarded door, for your grand finale. Every time you have the cocky, slick, daring and mischievous kind of women act and each time it works but this time around it has to be so good that they let you pass, so good that they believe you. You walk up to the door and where about to open it like a normal room but they quickly block you and ask. "Who are you ma'am?" Now time for the act, your precious little act.

"First of all, how dare you be thick enough in the head to not know and on the other hand, try and grab my wrist again and my people behind me will blow your dick off in milliseconds," no hesitation came with that. You stood your ground and were not going to give in even though the man's, big bod and look that he gave you made you kind of want to cave in and hide but you couldn't. He looked you up and down and asked you one more question.

"Ma'am, why are you here?" This time more sternly, like a demand, that if you didn't answer it would be the end of you. Like the wrong answer would lead to a death sentence. And you don't even react, not on the outside at least. You just scoff. It leaves the three others behind you in quite a shock. Normal people would run away if they were in this situation but you just didn't care and stood your ground. "I'm here for a 'angels whiskey'." He looks at you one more time and opens the door. So easy to convince a man to your way of thinking if he doesn't know the consequences.

All four of you enter and the for closes behind you. There is two more bodyguards in the room bot on either side of the door, the only entrance and exit in the room. You were cornered but it was all part of the plan. You had to get out but just had to wait until it unfolded and you gain their trust. "Well, well , well, who have I got here."

And that's the man you needed. His tall, slim but muscular body leaned back in the black leather chair with his hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey. He had black hair and a rather distinguished set of cheekbones and nose. He had very dark brown eyes that would be slightly covered with his long hair if it wasn't for the jell slick back. His muscles lightly flexed through the white button up shirt with the top three buttons undone and the black, open widely suit jacket.

"What a beautiful scene I have standing right in front of me," he smirks in his chair, getting up slowly as he places the glass down. He walks over to his cabinet that has a dagger on top of it. He picks up the cool, metal carved blade and twirls it through his fingers. "Well my beauty never fails," you smirk back as you watch a black lose strand of his hair fall out of the back of his slick.

"And your beauty is simply a disguise of a devil and since you brought…protection, that means you brought me a problem," he says tilting the blade in your direction, swiping it through his fingers and looks for your response. "I'm not here as 'trouble', Tá mé anseo le haghaidh roinnt fuisce aingeal mo sean chompánach." (I'm here for some angel whiskey my old companion.)

He looks you up and down and then inspects Jake, Natasha and Bradley, each one by one, his gaze seconds later lays upon his guards as he orders. "Leave us and don't dare to listen, you well know what happened to Maxance when he couldn't keep information to himself."

"Is bagairt mhór é teacht anseo le daoine eile (It's a big threat to come here with other people), cobra." He had a point it is a threat and unsafe but they were part of the mission force and you trusted the daggers a lot. "Tá muinín agam astu.(I trust them)" You did trust every one of them, and they've never failed you in any kind of way. The daggers have come close to you over the weeks, but all that matters is if Justin will reveal information in front of them.

"Cibé rud a deir tú (Whatever you say), Cobra." The smirk never lost his face as he heard the lock on the bike and finally sighs like if someone had loosened a woman's corset in the past history. He looks at you and smiles. The smile of a life long companion is flashed and you smile back. "Venom, long time no see," you say, no act in your voice, just your pure, true self with no lie or no cover.

"Well Cobra, you did leave for the France, not show a sign of life and only pop back when you were in trouble, so it's hard to keep in touch with you," sarcasm filled the room after the words left Venom's mouth. It was a heavy silence while the eye contact between you and Justin never breaks and you've had enough of it all. "And again I need you."

"Cobra, I told you I'm not doing you anymore favours." It was right, he wasn't gonna anymore. Many times you've pushed him over the edge so expecting his forgiveness is impossible. "It's not a favour for me. It's for the mission force." Justin and you have known each other for many years now, his dad works, not in favour of the mission force. He just doesn't like the agency since they interfere with his business and somehow Justin for many years now has hidden his mission force identity from his father for many years.

"Y/-" "I know but please. Déan é don fhoireann agus ní mise le do thoil (Do it for the team and not me please)." The use of Irish in your conversation was a way the two of you have communicated for a very long time. A lot of people would wonder, why Irish? Why does that barely use language over another? But it all made sense, if you know the backstory. Justin's father drank a bit, alcohol's from all over the world especially, whiskey. The most common, ' the pure Irish whiskey'. Justin didn't have a good home but the smell and aroma from the alcoholic drinks were so familiar to him he could identify how it was brewed or kept. And ever since then Irish was the two of yours code.

"Okay what do you need?" He was agreeing but didn't know what. Even though he didn't say he had agreed, allowing you to continue was his kind of way of saying it. You look back at Jake and the rest and Jake gives you a reassuring nod. "I need an intel about so I can go and finish him for good."

"Now cobra, that's a big ask," he wanders to his whiskey cabinet. It's filled with many size bottles, many shades. Each a different flavor, a different story to tell. He takes out a small bottle and a glass. It's one of those tiny bottles that you can get in a hotel or airport, the ones that go down in a gulp. He quickly cracks the bottle open and puts the glass back as if it was useless and hands the bottle to you. "Drink." It was like an order that you've yet to follow.

"You know I don't drink," you haven't drank in years and this is not going to change it, you weren't going to mess with something that'll ruin you. "Ah, come on Cobra do it for a friend, you can trust me," he stares you down. He wasn't going to budge unless you drink it but you truly didn't want to but you had to.

You feel the bitter liquid flow down your throat as you let out groan. Whiskey always disgusted you, it just wasn't your style but this one was different. Such a salty, sweet sensation on your tongue as the remains swirled in your mouth.

"You know if I do you a favor, there's a big payment in return." It's true. You knew if you made this deal with Justin it would cost you, it was written in your eyes. I mean, this man won't give you any favor if he doesn't receive anything in regards but you had to do what you had to do. "And what do you do called wish for?"

"I wish for my father to be put down in a grave along with my stepmother hung till her death, and perhaps my brother in rehab and therapy from this shitty mess." He wasn't serious about this being the favor you owed him but those three things were his dreams. You knew they were, you've heard his plan millions of times in the past.

"I could do the first two and the third one I'm not so sure about." It was a joke but not really, you could do all those things in minutes if you truly wanted and everyone in the room knew that. "I'll help you to bring down . You'll get your identification papers tomorrow. Bring the blonde, green eyed, he'll go undercover with you but our deal papers will arrive once you're back…"

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five-rivers · 7 months

Text

On Obsession and Free Will 4

The fourth chapter of this fic! Written for Ectoberhaunt 2023 Day 12: Obsession.

Warning for loss of agency.

Danny woke with a slow, syrupy kind of comfort. He felt nicely weighted down. He blinked his eyes open. That would probably be because of the thick blanket draped over him.

“Clockwork?” he called.

“I am here. Stay where you are.”

“Mhm,” said Danny. Not a difficult instruction to follow. It draped over him in much the same way as the blanked.

Clockwork loomed into his field of view, red eyes bright in the shadow of his hood. “How do you feel?”

“Heavy,” said Danny. “Tired. My right shoulder feels kind of bruised, and so do my ribs. I think I still have a bunch of scratches from Dan. I feel… Good? Happy? Comfortable?” He blinked a little at how thorough he’d been. But why wouldn’t he be thorough when Clockwork asked him a question?

“Good,” said Clockwork.

A sense of pleasure suffused Danny. Clockwork said he did good! Or that his current state was good. Danny wasn’t sure.

“You took care of me,” said Danny. It made his thoughts feel bubbly with happiness.

“I did. You sound surprised.”

“I was worried you wouldn’t,” confessed Danny. “After you had what you wanted.”

“I see,” said Clockwork. “Tell me, can you think of any circumstances where you would not obey me?”

Danny’s eyes fell halfway closed. He could feel the walls of the box Clockwork had made of his Obsession. They were firm, the joints and corners rounded. He could push against them and feel them push back, an even pressure on his mental body. He was not locked in so much as welded in, every escape closed, the box unopenable without the kind of force that would break the contents.

He wondered if, as he grew more used to them, the walls would recede from his awareness.

“If I didn’t understand what you wanted,” said Danny. “Or if I couldn’t do it. Or if you told me not to beforehand.”

“What if you interpreted my orders as being given under duress?”

“Like, someone was forcing you?” Danny frowned. “Can someone force you?”

“Perhaps,” said Clockwork. “For the sake of this question and your answer, assume that it is so.”

“Well,” said Danny, feeling like he was trying to follow a line of thought made of razor wire, “I guess… if you were being forced, it wasn’t something you wanted to say? So, I… I’d base what I was doing on what you’ve told me before and the surrounding context.” The box felt very small right now, but he was still inside it. The walls pulsed comfortably around his swollen thoughts.

Clockwork smiled faintly and patted Danny on the head. “Excellent,” he said. “Please get up and follow me.”

Danny wriggled out of his blanket and stood, unsteady, taking in the room for the first time. It was a bedroom. Nothing fancy, but obviously arranged for the maximum physical comfort of its inhabitant, for all that the walls were made of interlocking metal gears behind glass etched with patterns that put Danny in mind of antique clocks. Everything was draped in dark, silver-flecked fabric, or piled with cushions. There were bedside tables, and a desk in one corner, but they were oddly rounded, made of clockwork metal and wood, but covered in a thick layer of rounded glass. The light in the room was diffuse, and seemed to emanate from somewhere near the ceiling, but Danny couldn’t find the source.

Overall, it put him oddly in mind of the mental image of the box around him, his thoughts, and his actions.

“Is this your bedroom?” asked Danny.

“No,” said Clockwork. “It is yours. Do you like it?”

“Yes,” said Danny. “It seems comfortable.”

“Good. You will be spending time here, in the future.” Clockwork turned away, to a wall, and drew back a dark curtain to reveal the outline of a door. There was no handle that Danny could see, but the gears in the wall rotated, moving a bar and a counterweight, and the door swung open on its own.

Outside, the hall - if he could call it that - was similar, but the walls weren’t covered with glass. There was only a little of the stonework Danny usually associated with Long Now, and he got the distinct impression that this was the lair itself revealing some truth about itself to him.

They came to a wider space, where at least the floor was covered by another, continuous material. The room was filled with cabinets, shelves, and long tables. Worktables, Danny thought, seeing the tools and small objects that rested on them. The workspace was, overall, much neater than his parents’ lab, back home.

"We are going to run through some exercises to help you settle, before you return to Amity Park."

Danny nodded, grateful that he would be allowed to return. Although he had tried not to dwell on it too much, he'd been aware that was a distinct possibility.

On the other hand… "What do you mean, 'settle?'" he asked as he followed Clockwork to one of the benches, where a clock case and inner workings had been neatly laid out.

“You have just gone through a major change,” said Clockwork. “It will take some time before you become used to it.”

“It’s good, though,” said Danny. “I like it. I wanted it.”

“Even so,” said Clockwork. “Do you not feel weaker, less steady than you usually are?”

“I…” Danny hesitated, thinking. “Yes.”

Clockwork nodded slowly. “That is only to be expected. Even good changes can cause stress and strain. You must be settled, before any other alterations can be made. Sit.”

Danny took the indicated seat, across the table from Clockwork. “You’re going to alter me more?” asked Danny, intrigued by the possibility of being shaped into something even more helpful.

“Perhaps,” said Clockwork.

Danny pouted slightly at the nonanswer, but he knew that Clockwork must have his reasons. Not telling him must have benefits.

“These exercises will help you become more used to your new configuration, more confident in it. Now.” Clockwork folded his hands on the table. “You are going to help me build this clock.”

Danny’s core thrummed to attention. “How?” he asked.

“You will pay close attention to me, my instructions, and the materials you are working with, and nothing else.”

The rest of the world went fuzzy. “Yes,” he said, and even his own voice felt distant.

“Excellent. We will begin with the casing…”

Clockwork let him take the finished clock back to his room at the end of the exercise.

For the next exercise, Clockwork set Danny to work on a small, but somewhat overgrown and neglected, bonsai tree. This time, however, he did not give Danny explicit instructions on its care, but told him to find the information in the library, gently prompting him to look at more than one source before deciding what to do with the tree.

Danny had never found books so interesting before. He’d had no idea that making Clockwork part of his Obsession like this would have such wide-reaching effects.

It took a while for Danny to get all the information he needed, but he did, and he trimmed the bonsai down to size, watered it, fertilized it, and bent the branches into a more aesthetically pleasing shape.

Like the clock, the bonsai tree made its way to his room.

For the third exercise, Clockwork presented him with a blank book and told him to record a detailed history of his life, up until that moment.

Danny had hesitated, then. “There’s a lot I don’t remember,” he admitted, even as the need from his Obsession seemed to crawl into his brain to unearth memories he hadn’t known he had.

“Yes,” said Clockwork, his tone prompting.

“Will you… Will you help me? With the things I don’t remember, I mean.”

“Yes,” said Clockwork. “I will show you how to operate one of the simpler time screens, but you must never use it without my permission.”

Danny nodded, enthusiastically. He liked these exercises. He was learning so much.

Unlike his other two products, the book was whisked away as soon as he’d finished it, disappearing into the folds of Clockwork’s robes. Clockwork then presented him with a tiny vial, no larger than the smallest bone in Danny’s smallest finger.

“What is it?” asked Danny, tilting the vial to the side. The contents looked like water, but there was something about it Danny couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Waters of the Lethe,” said Clockwork. “Diluted.”

“Am I supposed to drink it?” Danny asked, staring up at Clockwork. The vision of Clockwork as a giant flitted across his memory again.

“People are not supposed to know their whole history. This will only abstract your memory of what you learned here, from the time screens, not your entire memory.”

“I would drink it even if it did,” said Danny.

“I know,” said Clockwork, “but for now, you need only drink this.”

Danny put the vial to his lips without hesitation, and swallowed the water inside. He blinked once, twice, slightly disoriented. “What next?” he asked.

“Next,” said Clockwork, thoughtfully, “I believe you can go home.”

Danny returned to Amity Park as if he had never left, as if nothing significant had changed in himself. He went to school, he fought ghosts, he talked to his friends, he played games, he helped people. Always, he helped.

And he visited Clockwork.

Clockwork almost always had something for him to do, whether that was a big thing, like saving a city from destruction, a small thing, like moving a branch, a mundane thing, like studying, or a confusing thing, like being sent to a Renaissance-era party after gorging himself on strawberries with no other instructions. And, the rare few times Clockwork didn’t have anything for Danny to do, he still treated Danny with gentle care.

Like now. Now, Clockwork carefully measured Danny's body, the width of his chest, the length of his limbs, the depth of his breath, the speed of his heart, the color of his blood. Danny followed his instructions to move and breathe, to stay still, to cough and bleed.

Clockwork patted him on the head, and Danny leaned into the touch until it turned into something more like a stroke, Clockwork’s hand tracing down to cup his cheek and the underside of his jaw.

“Do not grow,” he said, almost absently. “Do not age.”

Danny still wasn’t used to the way his body itself would respond to Clockwork’s instructions. How a few words from him could unlock abilities he would never be able to activate on his own. A shiver swept over him as his very cells seemed to set themselves in place. It felt good, of course, but it was also…

“That is still a little intense for you,” said Clockwork.

Danny made a small, soft noise of agreement. Despite himself, he was half dozing, leaning heavily on Clockwork’s hand. Today had been very long, and he was so comfortable here, where the limits and guidance of his

“I think a more thorough assessment of your physical state is in order,” said Clockwork.

Danny hummed, questioningly.

“We are going to visit your friends in the Far Frozen.”

The yetis looked at Clockwork with suspicion, but did not stop him.

“Hi, Frostbite!” said Danny, cheerfully, throwing himself at Frostbite. Frostbite returned the hug, albeit far more gingerly than usual.

“Hello, great one,” said Frostbite. “Timekeeper.”

Clockwork inclined his head minutely.

“I didn’t know you knew each other,” said Danny, watching the exchange with wide eyes.

“I have brought Daniel for a full physical,” said Clockwork.

“We have a custom of seeing patients alone.”

"I am aware. Daniel."

"Mhm?"

“Answer any question Chief Frostbite has.”

“Okay!”

“Truthfully,” Clockwork added.

“Yes!”

Clockwork nodded. “I expect a full medical report.”

“If he wants us to give you one, it will be done,” said Frostbite.

“I do!” said Danny. Clockwork smiled faintly, and Danny’s core itself seemed to hum in pleasure. He’d done the right thing.

“Very well, great one,” said Frostbite. He picked Danny up and carried him to the medical caves, where he started running through a standard checkup, asking Danny how he was eating, how he was sleeping, the last fight he’d been in.

But Danny had a question of his own.

“You look upset,” said Danny. “Why are you upset?”

Frostbite sighed. “Great one… Are you aware that you have been enthralled?”

Danny kicked his feet. The examination table was sized more for yetis than for human-sized things like Danny, and he felt significantly childlike, sitting on it. “Um, he didn’t use that word, but Clockwork pretty much explained what was happening to me while it was happening.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he said he was,” Danny searched for the right word, “shaping me so that I saw doing what he wanted as the same as my Obsession.” He tilted his head to one side. “Is that wrong?”

“No, it seems that he did tell you what he was doing.” Frostbite sighed.

“But you think it’s bad that he did it in the first place,” surmised Danny. “That he… enthralled me? Even though I wanted it?”

“It is complicated.” Frostbite made a chair out of ice, and sat so his eyes were level with Danny’s. “Thralls do not typically see anything wrong with their status. Many ghosts do not. Many consider it a positive, or at least a neutral thing. And I am happy, great one, that you have found a way to follow your Obsession that brings you joy and satisfaction. But it is also true that thralls are mistreated, or outright sacrificed, frequently.”

“But for their Obsession. Which is something they’d do anyway. Clockwork isn’t like that, anyway.”

Frostbite sighed heavily. “Not always for their Obsession. The point is,” he continued, before Danny could again protest that Clockwork wasn’t like that, “thralls end in tragedy and suffering, more often than not.”

Danny tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Any position where one person has power over another is open to abuse, and the greater the degree of power, the greater the potential for abuse. We ghosts may be… constrained, somewhat, by what we are. By our Obsessions, I should say. But we are still people. People who can make both good and bad choices.”

“Okay,” said Danny. That wasn’t really what it had sounded like when he’d asked Clockwork about free will, but maybe this was just another perspective. It wasn’t like Frostbite was stupid. “Okay, but Clockwork really isn't like that. He’s taking good care of me. And our Obsessions are pretty similar, so I don’t think I’m just going to be sacrificed or whatever. I get why you’re upset,” he added, quickly. “I do! I’d be pretty upset if I thought one of my friends was tricked like that and was getting dragged around for stuff that wasn’t even their Obsession. But it isn’t like that. He even came here to make sure I was okay, didn’t he?”

“He did,” said Frostbite. He still didn’t sound happy. “For a full medical report. Do you know if he plans to alter you?”

“He’s mentioned it,” said Danny with a shrug. The idea of being further modified was thrilling.

Frostbite nodded. “Regardless, I will list the common side effects of thralldom. Let me know if you are experiencing any of these.”

“There are side effects?” asked Danny. “Wait, no, that’s stupid. Of course there are. I passed out when it all, um…” He touched the tips of his fingers together. “Clicked.”

“I see,” said Frostbite. “Was this prompted by Clockwork in any way?”

“He told me to sleep,” said Danny. “But I was definitely passing out anyway. I’ve got a lot of experience with that.”

Frostbite made a hmm deep in his throat and made a note on a pad of paper. Danny leaned forward, gazing at him in interest. He found himself wanting to cuddle in Frostbite’s fur… Not something he normally did. Even if Frostbite was very soft and fluffy.

“One of the typical side effects is more animal behavior or features.”

“Oh,” said Danny, a thought crossing his mind, “are the vulture ghosts Vlad’s thralls?”

“I am unsure,” said Frostbite. “I am unfamiliar with the ghosts you are referencing.”

“It’s not important,” said Danny, shaking his head. “It’s just, I’ve always wondered why they do stuff for him, since he doesn’t seem to pay them, like he does with Skulker.”

“Have you experienced anything like that personally?” prompted Frostbite, gently.

“I don’t think so,” said Danny.

“Lack of interest in other methods of fulfilling your Obsession?”

“Nope,” said Danny. “I’m still doing all my hero stuff.”

“Abnormal emotional states?”

“I’ve been really happy, lately, I guess,” said Danny. “But not really, other than that.”

“Anxiety over the location of your thrall-holder?”

“Mm,” said Danny, thinking. “Not really? Maybe a little bit. Clockwork isn’t really… someone who can be put in physical danger?”

“I see," said Frostbite.

“Difficulty understanding the world around you?”

“No,” said Danny. “Not more than usual.”

“Core pain?”

“At the beginning, but not right now. Clockwork did exercises with me, to help me settle.”

“Alright,” said Frostbite. “It’s time for the more traditional scans and measurements. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” said Danny.

Danny bounced over to Clockwork’s side, sucking on a lollipop Frostbite had given him. A still unhappy-looking Frostbite handed Clockwork a thick packet of paper, which Clockwork vanished into thin air.

“I’m ready to go when you are,” said Danny.

Clockwork nodded, eyes drifting slowly to each of the frowning yetis staring at him.

“I am aware that you are researching a way to break thralls,” said Clockwork.

“It doesn’t work, does it?” asked Danny, thoroughly spooked by the idea.

“No. Not currently, no. It isn’t something you need to worry about,” said Clockwork. It wasn’t really a command or an instruction, so Danny decided not to think about it too much. He had plenty of other things to think about, after all.

"Are you going to try to stop us?" asked Frostbite.

"No," said Clockwork. "Your research is, actually, part of the reason I brought Daniel here today."

Frostbite’s eyes flicked between Clockwork and Danny.

“I’m afraid I do not understand,” he said, finally.

“And that is acceptable. Come along, Daniel.” He began to fly away, and Danny hurried to keep pace with him.

"Are you going to have me do that, if they figure it out?" asked Danny, worried again, despite himself.

"There are scenarios in which it may become useful. I prefer to keep my options open, in these cases."

“But… You’ll only have me do it if it’s more helpful?”

“Of course,” said Clockwork, ruffling Danny’s hair casually. “I wouldn’t even consider it, otherwise.”

#danny phantom #ectoberhaunt #23 day 12 #23 prompt obsession #23 calendar science #eh23 #ectoberhaunt23

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scifrey · 3 months

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NINE-TENTHS

Twenty-four is one year too young for a quarter-life crisis, but hey, Colin's always been an overachiever. He's got a degree in Sustainable Tourism, which his family says he's wasting as a barista, an annoying anxiety disorder, and no freaking idea what to do with his life.

The only thing going his way is the cute coffee shop regular, a homo draconis named Dav (who, in his humanshape, is a total hottie.) Still, it'd be easier if Dav didn't have a habit of accidentally setting things on fire when he's startled. Like the café kitchen.

When Dav breaks draconic taboo and volunteers as a replacement bean-roaster to apologize for the inferno meet-ugly, sparks really fly. Everything's finally happening for Colin, until he learns that hooking up with Dav means that under dragon law, Colin is absorbed into Dav's hoard.

Possession may be nine-tenths of the law, but becoming his boyfriend's property does not make this whole identity crisis thing easier. Especially now that Colin must navigate politics, paparazzi, and legal questions about his personhood. Colin's still angling for his Happily Ever After, but the growing scrutiny on his relationship with Dav threatens their budding romance.

And if he's not careful, Colin's fight for agency may just destroy symbiotic human/dragon relationships worldwide.

🐉☕❤️

A sassy, queer, alternate universe romance from Publishers Weekly's Best Books of 2011 author J.M. Frey. Wrapped in discussions of autonomy and colonialism, Nine-Tenths meets in the middle between Red, White & Royal Blue and the Temeraire series.

🐉☕❤️

Part One

There's this thing in stories called the "inciting incident".

And mine? It's a goddamn doozy.

It’s the part of the book, right at the start, where the lovers have their meet-cute, the farm boy leaves for the wider world, the Chosen One is attacked by her first evil monster, blah, blah, blah. You know what I mean. It's the place where everything opens up and you have no idea what you're in for—only that it'll be exciting.

I know all about Inciting Incidents because I was going to be a writer.

No, I thought I was going to be a writer. Historical romance, that’s my jam. Dukes, rakes, windblown-gowns, dropped handkerchiefs, cliffside confessions—I am a slut for that stuff. Forget real history (totally flunked ‘We’re-Feeding-You-Colonialist-Narratives-Disguised-As-Education’ 101). Give me made-up kingdoms and far-flung pirates. Give me the fantasy of a happily ever after that lasts beyond ‘the end’. Give coffee and stories, and I am a content boy.

But right before he got sick, in the summer between my first and second year of university, my Dad and I had a serious talk about writing. How much work it is. How long it takes to start paying off. Backup plans.

And then… after, I thought, well, he wasn’t wrong. If life was going to be pointlessly, stupidly, cruelly short, then I should spend my time trying to do something good, right? I switched majors. Science makes sense. Science is logical. Science creates vaccines and saves lives. Science can bring species back from the brink of extinction. Science doesn’t break your heart.

All of this is to say that I can—with complete and utter certainty—point to the exact moment when my life became a trash fire. It was my twenty-fourth birthday, and my big sister Gemma gave me the dumbest, but totally plot-inciting gift: a sunrise alarm clock.

The Incident starts like this, in Mum’s pokey poppies-and-roosters kitchen, with Gemma leaning on the back of my chair:

"I have a perfectly good alarm clock." I hold up my phone, then let it slap back down onto the plastic tablecloth. "Goes ding when there's stuff."

My sister heaves the kind of sigh only eldest-born siblings make, indulgent and frustrated at the same time. I love making her make that noise. It's hilarious.

"It wakes you up gently," Gem says. "So you’re not cranky."

"I’m not cranky in the mornings."

Everyone laughs. I may have snapped at Stuart this morning when he shook my foot through my childhood bed sheets like an aggressive chihuahua. Okay. So I'm cranky in the mornings.

"I don't see how it's supposed to work." Stu grabs the clock. "How can you see the light if your eyes are closed?"

As the younger brother of twin siblings, I am used to having the toys I’m playing with pulled out of my hands. Instead of trying to snatch it back, I fiddle with the iridescent green bow that was on my present, then stick it to my ear. Mum smirks at my accessory, but otherwise her prim little 'all my babies are home to roost' face stays in place.

I'm the only one of us who went away to school, and stayed away. Gem came back to live with Mum straight after she finished her undergrad, so Mum wouldn't be alone in the house. Stuart never left the city, though he's got his own place now. But that's why I stayed away after I graduated last year. Mum and Gem don't need me, and if I came back, Stu would try to get me to join his crew.

I go weak in the knees for the kind of person jacked enough to pick me up and consensually throw me around. Standing on a roof next to a whole crew of pretty roughs trying to help them replace shingles? That's gonna lead to me swooning and dying of a broken neck. Stu doesn’t want that on his conscience.

Because she's a bossy know-it-all, Gem takes my present from Stu and opens it to show me how it works. She huffs. "You can see sunlight through your eyelids. It just works, okay?"

Stu helps himself to another piece of my birthday cake, licking the icing off his fingers and the serving knife. Mum slaps the hand holding the knife, and Stu flushes up and sets it down. He descends on his third piece like a wolf, but at least now he's watching his manners.

"There's an instruction manual," I point out as Gem tosses the booklet on the table.

"The day you read the instructions," Mum says, "is the day I'll know for sure the fairies really swapped you."

It's an old joke, being the Changeling child. I'm the only one of them with dark hair. The rest of my family are blond as heck.

Mum’s grinning into that little curl in the side of her mouth that holds secrets. Dad always called it Mum's 'Peter Pan Kiss’. He'd wrap his arms around her waist and kiss that corner, and Mum would swat at him for ruining her lipstick.

Thinking about Dad reminds me he's dead.

I hate the swoop-and-stab sensation in my chest that comes with remembering. Especially when there's a moment you want to share, and you turn your head to his chair and start composing the sentence in your head: "Hey, Mum's doing that—" and then you stop.

You stop composing. Stop turning. Stop thinking about sharing. Stop breathing.

Because that chair is empty.

Dad's dead.

And you'll never get the chance to point out the Peter Pan kiss again. Or watch Mum swat him. Or listen to him tease us for falling for Mum's Old World fairy stories. Or hear his stupid har-har-har donkey laugh, thick with his French accent.

It's my birthday.

He's not here.

I'll have another birthday, next year, and he won't be there for that one either.

I try to control my breathing, but Mum hears it hitching. I'm already staring at Dad's terrible empty chair, so it's not like I can hide what I'm thinking about. Mum curls her fingers over my knuckles.

"I wish he was here too, mo leanbh," she says softly.

Stu and Gem go quiet.

"Sucks," I cough out, deciding to give no one the pleasure of watching me actually cry. I'll save it for later, when I'm back in my own apartment. Not because of any kind of 'real men don't' toxic masculinity bullshit, but because I hate the fuss. They take the shit my therapist tells them about being my support network too much to heart.

"More tea, Mummers?" I ask instead.

"Time for something stronger, don't you think?"

Next Part | Read on Wattpad

Trailer Music: "A Thousand Years" by The Piano Guys Cover Art: @seancefemme

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inversionimpulse · 8 months

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Yukari can come off as a very different sort of character depending on what it is that you personally see underneath the layers of cryptic bullshit

for me, she kind of seems a little pathetic - in an endearing, lonely, and impotent sense, where she fails at making and keeping friends due to being, frankly, kind of awful to deal with on a personal level

Take, mainly, her interactions with Kasen in WaHH ch. 35

To me, it seems like she doesn’t want to - or can’t - internalize that she and Kasen are not friends anymore. Even just before this panel, she plays off Kasen’s rejection like it’s a joke to her and glides past it.

And there’s different ways you can take even that interpretation. For instance it could be a power move, a display of dominance - she doesn’t afford Kasen enough agency to even consider Kasen cutting ties to be valid.

But for me it feels like it’s because it would hurt her too much. Kasen is a friend of very, very, very old. It’s not clear how long they’ve known each other, but they’ve both been active since at least the middle of the Heian era--if they’ve known each other for even just most of that time, Kasen and Yukari have been friends since even before Yukari met Yuyuko and have had, as Sages, all of Gensokyo’s history as a shared experience. It’s possible that Kasen is Yukari’s oldest still-present friend and the friend with whom she has experienced the most (although personally I’d suspect Okina goes back a little further, and has about equal claim to shared experiences).

That’s... a big void to fill. A great, and terrible pain. Especially for someone who, frankly, does not seem to have very many friends left that she can really relate to and even fewer that she can be unreservedly open with.

And what I see is someone who is simply not prepared or willing to deal with that pain. Someone who, to not be overtaken by her own loneliness, needs to convince herself that she and someone who wants nothing to do with her are still friends. Kasen will come back because she has to come back because she wasn’t really leaving.. or else that growing hole in Yukari’s heart will get a little bit larger than she can deal with.

That is the lens that I tend to view Yukari through.

(Of course, a lot of this flows from my interpretation of Perfect Memento as suggesting that Yukari is secretly human - I tend to see her as someone in way over her head, vulnerable and trapped in a web of deception meant to hide that vulnerability)

(as an aside, my other, contradictory, interpretation of this scene is, okay, first you take the fanon that Suika raised Kasen. Second you take the canon that Suika is possibly Yukari’s oldest friend. Third, you assume therefore that Yukari knows Kasen through Suika. Fourth, you conclude that Yukari thinks of Kasen like a step-daughter and thus is here exhibiting something between parental patience and parental lack of respect for autonomy)

#touhou #touhou project #yukari yakumo #yakumo yukari #it certainly adds a certain angle to her attempts to make Ran less computer-like and more person-like #headcanon #meta #A queue in the dark beguiles me

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crp-low-quality-content · 7 months

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The slendermanor headcannons

(based on my experience shifting there)

- the manor is almost an entity with its own consciousness, it can communicate with the residents through noises and clicks, sometimes even in dreams, but hardly anyone notices because they think the manor is just a place with supernatural properties.

- and of course when talking about the manor you can't help but mention its supernatural properties.

- some of which are:

- corridors and rooms can change at random moments.

- doors can appear and disappear.

- new rooms can appear.

- on the outside it's the normal size of an ordinary manor, but inside it's absurdly huge, up to 3x the size of an ordinary shopping mall.

- only the residents can see the manor, which is why no law enforcement agency or researcher has found this place.

- most people call it "Slendermansion" but it does have a name, at least on the day I went it did shifted there, and it was "Manor of the Cursed Woods" but apparently no resident cares much about the name. They even call it Slenderman's zoo or Slender's ark as a kind of joke because there are so many "animals" inside.

- To live there, you must not only have the Slenderman's trust or interest, but also be able to perform services for him in return, which can range from missions to domestic chores.

- "people" and creatures choose to live there because it's a great place to hide since no one who doesn't live there can see and find the manor, it's the safest place for creepypastas.

- and yes, it really is safe, there's not much chance of you, being considered a "creepypasta", ending up being attacked or killed by another one, because there are rules there, and if you don't comply with one of them, depending on what it is, you'll be punished with anything from temporary detention in the dungeon, to torture, loss of privileges, and expulsion.

- the rules are as follows:

- always maintain a positive relationship with the other residents, no matter how difficult it may be.

- keep the mansion clean. (There are some who seem to have extreme difficulty complying with this rule 💀)

- avoid fights and arguments.

- help a resident who is in serious condition if you spot them.

- never, under any circumstances, talk about the manor or mention it to non-residents.

- respect the proxies and obey them in any circumstance. (this rule has already gotten very bad)

- always be prepared and available for any call or mission.

- avoid making any kind of noise during sleep hours.

- no one is responsible for the loss of your belongings or clothes, so take care of them.

- you are responsible for any being or animal brought into the manor.

- it has a garden at the back, which is quite nice for a place like this, with some flowers that vary in color, birds and a broken fountain in the center. There is also a bench under an oak tree, where you can find residents sitting from time to time.

- it has up to four floors and a basement of two.

- the first floor is where you'll find the entrance hall, living room, dining room, kitchen, bathrooms, training room and storeroom, as well as other random rooms that appear from one moment to the next.

- the second floor is where the library is, the room where the residents store quest items and objects lost around the mansion, the bathroom, and a room where people put pet items such as food, feed pots and litter boxes.

- the second floor is where the first bedrooms are.

- The third floor is also just bedrooms.

- on the fourth floor is another library, but this one has restricted access and contains files containing information that only Slenderman and his proxies have access to. There's an attic full of boxes storing God-only-knows-what and a lot of rats, and there's another warehouse containing dangerous objects.

- on the second floor of the basement, there's a nurse office, an operating room, a pharmacy and a mini hospital, a laboratory, a torture room, and a room with the belongings of kidnapped people.

- on the bottom floor of the basement is the dungeon, which has restricted access. There is a torture room for the residents, cells, and a room where the "guards" and inmates' belongings are usually kept.

- As far as technology goes, it's pretty up-to-date and has sockets and switches, but they vary a lot, sometimes there are sockets that are very old and you can't plug anything into them.

- there is a kind of "wi-fi" there, which was installed by the residents, this wi-fi probably only exists in the mansion and has its own IP address that can't be traced.

- Speaking of which, there's also the mansion's own network, which only the residents have access to and no one from outside can get in. (I don't know much about technology, I'm just trying to explain what I saw in the dr)

#creepypasta #slenderman #slender mansion #slendermanor #creepypasta headcannon #creepypasta fandom #reality shifting #shifting #headcannons #hcs #creepypasta hcs

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