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eagerbby · 2 years

Text

only you | e.m.

pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader

synopsis| You and Eddie were never meant to be just friends.

an| written in a world where Eddie was never accused, never died, and more importantly, finally graduated. not very canon, billy’s still alive and briefly mentioned. this was a quick break from a fix-it fic I’m currently writing and very much inspired by the song touch tank by quinnie. it’s eddies song and i’ll die on this hill.

warnings| oral (female receiving), PnV (protected), Eddie running his mouth, thats a warning in itself, 18+ only

[June 9, 1986]

The pitiless Indiana sun hung high in the cerulean sky, its uv-rays biting at your bare skin. The cool pool water lapping over your legs every time Eddie moved was the only relief at the moment.

“Have you ever been in the ocean?” He asked lazily, his long fingers flicking water across your bare thighs. The two of you lay opposite each other in the barely six foot wide and three foot deep blow up pool set up next to his front porch. Your feet floated next to his shoulders, grazing the freckled pale skin there every time he shifted or turned. Meanwhile, tall and gangly Eddie had his head propped up on the blue polyvinyl rim, his own feet hung over the side next to your head. He had bitched and moaned once the two of you had finally finished setting it up, “I don’t even fit all the way.” He’d complained. “Why’d you buy a damn kiddie pool?”

You had laughed at him, his pale body laying stick straight in the cool water in only a pair of plaid blue boxers. You had begged him to let you buy him a pair of swim shorts but he had refused.

“It’s just you and me, it’s not like you haven’t seen my boxers all over my bedroom floor.”

“Yeah, but what if you go to the public pool? You’ll need them then.”

“Ha. Not likely you’ll ever see Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson at the public pool. The parent’s would probably gather pitchforks and torches and hang me at the gallows.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Eds.”

“M’not. And anyway, I don’t like swimming, I’m only doing this for you.”

“My parents used to take my little brother and I to the Outer Banks when we were younger. We’d go every summer, swim in the ocean or walk the dunes to the lighthouse.” You opened your eyes to look at him only to find he’s already watching you speak, his deep brown eyes hidden behind the lens of his aviator sunglasses. His hair is almost dry now except for the ringlets that float atop his shoulders in the water. “You should probably take those sunglasses off before you get too much sun on your face. Gonna get a weird ass tan line from them.”

He does as you tell him, taking them off and tossing them onto the porch. “I’ve never been.” He said. “The ocean scares the fuck outta me. All that never ending water. Do you ever think about how many bodies are in the ocean? Lost to the dark depths of the sea.”

You sat up at his words, a perplexed look on your face as you stared at him. “Well that’s fucking morbid. Jesus Christ, Eddie.”

He only shrugged in his usual unbothered way, his knuckles grazing the skin of your thigh beneath the rippling water.

“You’ve never thought about it before?” He asked.

“Not really, no. I guess I blocked the thought from my mind. I love swimming in the ocean.”

“You love swimming with dead bodies. Got it.”

You splashed him at this, laughing as the small tidal wave blasted him. The shock of the cold water hitting his warm skin caused him to shoot up, water dripping down his face as he wrestled you backwards into the water. You squealed when he grabbed your shoulders, his hand holding the back of your neck as he dunked you. The gurgle of the water echoed your laugh and as he pulled you back up you spit a fountain of water right into his face.

“Who would have ever imagined that you, The Princess of Hawkins high and valediction, was such a freak.”

“I graduated two years ago, Eddie! Now I’m just the queen of folding panties at Starcourt mall, and failing my English lit course.”

You watched Eddie’s expression shift at the word panties, your best friend's eyes now slightly wider, his grip on the back of your neck a little harder. He was so close to you, sitting on his knees in the small pool, completely leaned over your body. You didn’t see him shirtless often and you had never seen him shirtless and so close. If you reached up you could trace the dark ink of his tattoo that sat just beneath his collarbone. Scratch your fingers against the small splattering of hair on his sternum. That strange feeling stirred in your stomach, the same one you’d been getting for a couple months now. You didn’t understand it and what made it worse was that Eddie, your best friend, was the sole cause of it.

You felt it for the first time after Eddie had fallen asleep during your weekly movie night. His head was laying on the pillow in your lap, you hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen asleep until you heard him softly snore. He’d had a bad day at school, Jason Carver and his cronies spray painting ‘Freak’ in bright red letters across the windshield of his van. When you got to his trailer later that day you found him sitting on the hood of the van with a razor blade, slowly scraping the still wet paint from the glass. You had tried helping him but he only waved you off, telling you it was fine. But his eyes were red rimmed and glassy like he’d been crying. You wanted to kill those stupid jocks, which you voiced with indignation. But Eddie had only shook his head. He wasn’t a fighter despite what the whole town thought. He just didn’t have it in him.

“Lets go.” You said softly, your hand holding onto his forearm as you looked up at him.

“What?”

“To the ocean. Let’s go to the ocean, Eddie.” It was only a whisper as it passed your lips, your eyes searching his face. His furrowed eyebrows made him appear confused, but there was something else swimming in the chocolate brown of his iris’.

“What are you talking about, Crazy?” He lazily dragged you to sit up as he shifted from his knees to stretch his long legs out in front of himself. You waited for him to get comfortable before bouncing up onto your own knees, your fingers excitedly grabbing the wet fabric of his boxers on his leg. You don’t notice his cheeks flush as his eyes quickly flashed down to your hands and back up to your eyes.

“You, Eddie Munson, are a high school graduate now. You have a whole summer before you have to start thinking about what's next! And I have some vacation time and a shoebox full of savings from the past two years.” You rambled, your smile so wide it hurts your cheeks. “We could take your van, o-or my car, and we could drive to the Outer Banks. Rent a motel and just have fun.”

“Y-you want to waste two years worth of savings to go to the beach?”

“It wouldn’t be a waste, Eddie! It’d be… well it’d be like an adventure.”

He was silent, looking away from you, his eyes scanning the quiet trailer park. Your shoulders dropped a little when you realized he didn’t share the same excitement as you. He had an entire summer to do whatever he wanted, why would he want to spend it with you driving to somewhere he’s never been.

He doesn’t even like the ocean, you idiot.

“Forget it. It’s stupid.” He jumped a little as you suddenly stood up, rivets of water rushing down the expanse of your body. You’ve stepped one foot out of the pool before he’s grabbing your wrist softly.

“Hey, where are you going?” He asked gently, his eyes wide like he’d just gotten into trouble.

“Inside to change. I think I got too much sun.” You shook your arm until his hand slipped from your wrist, falling back into the water with a splash. You snatched your towel from the rickety lawn chair and escaped into his trailer, ignoring him calling your name. You grabbed your bookbag from the couch and all but ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind you with shaking hands.

You felt so fucking stupid. You already spent eighty percent of your time with him, practically attached at the hip as his freshman friend Dustin had pointed out, how could you think he’d want to spend even more time with you. Especially somewhere far from home. For fucks sake, he hadn’t even looked at you as you went on and on about it. He was too nice to tell you it was a stupid idea. The way he stared off, probably thinking of how to let you down gently, was all the answer you needed.

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t that good of an idea. You weren’t known for your extraordinary planning skills and both of your vehicles were pieces of shit. In fact the likelihood of making it across the Indiana border just to break down in some podunk town was terribly high. The thought of spending the rest of your money getting the car fixed just to turn around and go right back home, broke and without ever seeing the damn beach, made you a little nauseous. Because that would be your luck.

A knock at the bathroom door made you jump. "Hey, you okay in there?" Eddie, voice peppered with concern. You tossed your bathing suit in the sink and turned the shower on.

"I gotta wash my hair, be out in a minute." You yelled back at the door before stepping into the shower stall, the hot water easing the tension from your muscles.

You didn't want him to think you were upset so you hurried through your shower, using his old spice to wash your body and his shampoo and conditioner that smelled of citrus in your hair. It was a distinct smell, one that was all him, and it made your stomach whirl once again. Your crush on him was starting to become a nuisance.

Once you were clean and dried off, dressed in his Iron Maiden shirt you stole from his drawer a couple weeks ago and a pair of black jean shorts that were frayed at the ends, you slowly cracked the door open, peering out towards the living room slash kitchen in search for a puff of raven curls.

He wasn’t there, so instead you followed the sound of Ozzy Osborne down the hall and into Eddie’s messy bedroom.

He was in his bed, back propped up against the headboard and rolling a joint with idle fingers. He was still shirtless but with a pair of gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, the band of his now white boxers resting against his dark happy trail. A wildfire blazed in your stomach at the sight and you couldn’t help but clamp your thighs together.

Does he not realize how unbearably hot he is?

He didn’t, actually, which was why seeing him like this all laid out with his chest bare and that smattering of hair that led down his abdomen and under his pants made your mouth so dry your tongue felt like it weighed 110 pounds and your hands so clammy you had to wipe them against your shorts. You cleared your throat in an attempt to subdue your racing thoughts and took a seat on the edge of his bed, body turned towards him watching him roll with ease.

He looked up with a smile when he felt your weight dip into the mattress. “Are you feeling any bette-'' He paused, glaring at the long haired zombie on your shirt. His shirt. “Is that my fucking shirt?”

You glanced down and back up, imitating the causal shrug he always gave you.

“Maybe.” You deadpanned. Eddie spluttered.

“Maybe? Who else do you know listens to Iron fucking Maiden?”

“I know people.”

“You know people?”

“A couple.”

Eddie’s eyes suddenly narrowed, a quiet disapproval in those deep brown eyes of his.

“Billy Hargrove?” He asked with a grating timbre in his voice you’d never heard before. He’d tossed the joint down into the ashtray and got off the bed, standing in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“B- What?” You’re so exasperated you can’t even form a sentence. “Billy Hargrove? What?”

“It’s him right? I know you used to hangout with him. He’s totally not an Iron Maiden fan, by the way. He definitely listens to Foreigner and cries in his piece of shit Camaro.”

“Hey! Don’t talk bad about Foreigner, I love them.” You stood up from the bed with your hands on your hips. “He’s a Guns N’ Roses guy anyways; completely idolizes Axel Rose.”

“Oh. Okay. So Billy Hargrove likes Guns N’ Roses and groupies for Axel Rose. Amazing.”

“I don’t hang out with Billy Hargrove, Eddie. Not like that, anyways.”

His nostrils flared and he nodded. “But you do hang out.”

“Maybe once or twice, I guess?” Your voice forms a question. You didn’t consider having a couple of the same friends and being at parties the other is at as ‘hanging out’. “What- What is this, Eddie? Why are you freaking out over Billy?”

“I’m not.” He said, blinking a couple times like he was trying to snap out of something. He leaned over your shoulder and grabbed the joint out the ashtray, lit it, and walked over to his cluttered table to search through a milk crate full of records. “Just figured the people you were talking about was him, s’all.”

“Eddie,” You said, coming up beside him to grab his wrist. He froze, his hands stopping their furious flipping of records, but his gaze stayed low. “I was fucking around, Eddie.”

“Fucking around?’

“Yes, Eddie. I was just joking.”

He turned to you at your words, staring dead into your eyes. The intensity of his stare made your heart stutter. “Were you trying to make me jealous?”

“Jealous? Wh- Eddie what the fuck are you talking about.”

There was a pregnant pause. Just you and Eddie staring into each other's eyes. Why would you want to make him jealous? You didn’t even know that was an option. You and Eddie were friends. Best friends. Friends don’t get jealous of their friends hanging out with other people. And Billy Hargrove? You had no idea where he pulled that one from. Not once had you ever even mentioned his name around Eddie. There was nothing worth mentioning. You thought Billy was stuck up and an absolute douchebag. Was he nice to look at? Sure. But you were nearly positive his heart was black with hatred and you believed being pretty meant nothing if your personality was shit.

“Uh, Eddie? Are you jealous?” He couldn’t look you in the eyes, instead he was flickering his gaze to anywhere but your face. “Eddie?”

“Would you hate me if I said yes?” He trailed his question off, biting at the skin on his lips as he waited for a response.

“I could never hate you, Eddie. You’re my best friend.”

He rolled his eyes. He rolled his fucking eyes. “Your best friend, right.” He said through a cloud of smoke. You snatched the joint sitting pretty between his fingers and dropped it in his other ashtray, the glass one shaped like a skull.

“Why are you saying it like that? You are my best friend.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be.” He said defiantly and your throat felt like it was going to close and your eyes burned from the prickle of your unshed tears welling in your eyes. He didn't want to be your best friend. Those words made you want to crawl into your body, to somehow vanish into thin air. Not too long ago you two were laughing together in the pool, discussing Steve Harrington's newest girl drama which was all supplied to you by Dustin Henderson. The night before you two made shitty Jiffy Pop while blazed out of your minds and sang karaoke so loud his neighbors came banging on the door, furious.

But now he didn’t want to be friends.

“Is this because I asked you to go on a roadtrip with me?” Your voice wavered and your chin started to tremble. “I know it was a bad idea.”

He strangely looked befuddled. “W-what? No. No, it’s not tha-”

“Well then what did I do?” You whined, tossing your hands about, unsure of what to do or what to say. What to think.

“You didn’t do-” He cut himself off, frustrated with his inability to explain himself. He looked at you, saw the tremble in your chin and shook his head. “You know what, fuck it.”

As soon as the words left his mouth he was surging forward, grasping your face in his hands, and pulling you towards him. His lips met yours with so much force you gasped, hands clutching his hips for purchase. You couldn’t form a single thought as you stood there, eyes squeezed shut, your chest so tight you couldn’t breathe. But then his hand smoothed over your cheek and grasped the back of your neck, his fingernails scraping over the sensitive skin there, and you finally kissed him back. Eddie moaned. The sound so loud it vibrated through your mouth and straight to the core of your being.

You kissed him with every ounce of power you had. Kissed him like you had daydreamed about so many times before as you watched him roll, or play guitar, or sing along to the radio as he drummed against the steering wheel. You kissed him for everytime he smiled and you felt your heart skip a beat. For every time he hugged you just because you looked like you needed one. For every smile he’d ever graced you with. You kissed him like you’d never kissed anyone before in your life, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from a different point of view, but it felt perfect.

Eddie pulled away first, gasping for air in the crook of your neck, his body practically folded into you. “Fuck,” he drew out the word long enough to make you giggle, drunk off his lips.

“Eddie.” You soothed, combing your fingers through his hair. “Why don’t you wanna be my friend?”

He raised to his full height at your question. “Best friends can’t kiss like that.” He’s so out of breath, his words merely a whisper as he continued. “And every goddamn time I look at you all I wanna do is kiss your pretty fucking mouth.”

He left you speechless, looking up into his big brown eyes that you loved so much. He lets you take a second, think on it, all the while stroking his thumb across your cheek.

“How long?” Is all you can ask.

“Shit, since fucking middle school, baby.” He blushed as he said it, the pretty pink darkening to a cherry red as he watched your eyes widen in surprise.

“Middle school?” You whispered.

“I always have. But in middle school you showed up to the snowball in that cute purple dress with your hair all big and your makeup maybe a little too grown for a 12 year old and all I could think about was walking over and asking you to dance. Shit, I wanted to kiss your cheek so fucking bad.” You laughed at the way he scrunched his nose at the last part. You remembered middle school Eddie, his buzzed head and those horrible army green bell bottoms that he’d ripped up to look cool. You liked that Eddie as much as you liked this one, even back then.

“Why didn’t you?” You asked as you pushed up against his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist. In this position he had to look down his nose at you, his dark lashes fluttering across his cheeks.

“You were you and I was the freak.”

“I never thought that about you, Eddie.”

He sighed, kissing your forehead. “I didn’t know that then, baby.”

“Should have asked.” You teased, planting a kiss on his chest when he tried to act offended.

You two stood like that for a while, just wrapped up in each other, testing the waters of this new dynamic. One where you both knew where you stood with each other.

“I’m sorry I upset you earlier, you uh- you kinda surprised me.” He spoke into the crown of your head.

“It was a stupid idea, anyway.”

“No it’s not. I wanna go. I just don’t want to spend all your money doing it. Give me a couple months to save up and we can go.”

“I don’t care about the money, Eds.” You said as you took your head off his chest and gazed up at him.

“I know. Just give me a couple months, okay.”

“Okay, Eddie.”

Silence fell over the two of you. Eddie started swaying to the music at some point, humming along to a Black Sabbath song that was definitely not slow dance material. You kissed the tattoo on his chest as you swayed, looking up at him with your best version of puppy dog eyes.

“Hey, Eddie?” You asked softly. He hummed against you, kissing your forehead as he waited for you to finish your question. “Can you kiss me again?”

“Did you use my shampoo?”

Eddie’s voice raised up from the crease of your neck, a hint of amusement in his words. He had you laid out on his bed, slowly working kisses across your body. What had started as a soft little makeout session bloomed into something more when you had drug your nails up his spine the moment he found that sweet spot just behind your ear.

“Mhm.” You were too distracted to answer, focusing on the feel of his tongue laving against your neck and the way his hips shuddered against your clothed pussy every time you dug your nails into his skin.

“I like when you smell like me.” He mused. “Makes me feel like you’re mine.”

“M’yours, Eddie.” You whispered, guiding his face up to look at him. His lips were puffy and tinted red from sucking hickeys against your throat and his eyes were wide, searching your face for honesty.

“Promise?” He said after a quiet couple seconds and you nodded, leaning your head up to kiss the tip of his nose and the corner of his mouth.

“Promise.”

Eddie’s smile lit up his entire face, all dimpled and pink cheeked. It made your heart swell.

“Can I taste you?”

He asked in such a polite way, it caught you off guard. You couldn’t remember ever having a guy ask to eat you out. It was always something you hinted at and they brushed aside. One guy had even told you that eating a girl out made him soft and in the same breath forced your head down on his dick. But here was Eddie, looking at you so expectantly and yet so patiently.

“Yeah.”

Eddie didn’t waste a second getting to his knees on the mattress, fingers fumbling with the button of your shorts as he mumbled to himself. “Oh shit, okay. Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so fucking long, you don’t even understand. Pretty baby. So fucking pretty.”

You helped him shimmy the black fabric from your legs, Eddie tossing them over his shoulder with such force they knocked his acoustic guitar, that sat across from the bed, off its stand. He paid no attention to the instruments sharp bellow as it hit the carpet, instead he was transfixed on your purple lace panties.

“Christ.” He breathed, his index and middle finger tracing up the wet spot that had been steadily growing from the moment he kissed you. “You’re so wet.”

“Because of you.” You keened, Eddie suddenly adding more force in his stroking right against your clit. He flashed his eyes up to yours.

“Yeah?”

You nodded.

“Shit, I never thought I’d hear you say that outside of my dreams.” He seems to lose himself in his heavy caressing while you grip his sheets so hard your knuckles turn white.

“Eddie, please.” You couldn’t stop the whine that escaped your lips, dipping your fingers under the band of your panties and impatiently trying to take them off.

Eddie chuckled to himself as he watched you struggle. “Okay, okay. I’ve got you baby. Calm down.” He gave your panties the same treatment, peeling them down your thighs and tossing them over his shoulder. He bit his lip as he lowered his stomach to the bed, face to face with your weeping core. “So eager to be on my tongue, huh. Who woulda thought you’d be sobbing at the thought of me, The Freak, licking your sweet little pussy.”

“Eddie,” You were so touch starved, so desperate to feel his mouth on you, that you thought you might actually cry if he didn’t do something. “Shut the fuck up, please. Please. Just… Oh, Eddie, please.”

“Mm, okay.”

The second his warm tongue hit you, you cried out. Hands fumbling for purchase and finding it in his dark brown hair. You gripped the strands at the roots hard enough to hurt but Eddie only moaned and tightened his grip on your thighs, pulling them open even further to sink his tongue as far into your pussy as he could. His nose brushed against your swollen clit with each delve of his tongue, the muscle exploring every inch of your sensitive pussy. You trained your eyes on his nicotine stained ceiling, trying so hard to push back the fire rising in your stomach. You’d never felt anything like it before.

“That feels so fucking good, Eddie.” You loosened your grip on him to pet at his hair, unsure if it was to praise him or soothe yourself. Peeling your eyes from the ceiling you cast your hazy stare down only to find his big brown eyes watching you from between your thighs, mouth latched around your sensitive clit as he alternated from gentle sucks to fast flicks of his tongue. Your thighs burned as you rocked your hips against his face, fucking into his mouth for more friction, hands shaking against his cheeks. He looked so unbelievably pretty staring up at you with so much fondness and lust in his eyes, his mouth and tongue completely ravishing you like no man ever had before.. So you tell him…

“You’re so pretty like this, Eddie. You- oh fuuck- you’re always so pretty b-but-” You let out a wanton cry as Eddie slipped two fingers into your achy cunt. He finds that spot inside you that whitens your eyesight almost immediately, like he knew exactly where it was. Between his fingers and his devilish tongue you were seeing stars, tears slipping freely at how extreme the sensation was. “Oh god, Eddie. Eddie, I’m- I’m gonna-” You couldn’t even fucking speak anymore.

Eddie acknowledged you with a shuddering groan, quickening his movements to drive you over the precipice. His eyes never once leave your face.

You came with a small scream, hips arched off the bed, your fingernails leaving crescent moons into the skin of his wrist. The feeling was all consuming, overwhelming in all the best ways. You let out a sob as he eased you through it, rubbing your thighs comfortingly as they shook with fervor around his head. You could hear yourself speaking but it was muffled by the roaring in your ears; it sounded like you were speaking in tongues. Eddie heard every word.

“Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. Don’t stop, baby. Never fucking stop. So good, s-so fucking good. You’re so fucking good, Eddie. Oh my god, I love you.”

Eddie kissed your thighs as your orgasm faded, your burning lungs gasping for air. When you could finally breathe again, he left one last lingering kiss before crawling up your body. You held his face with shaking hands when he reached you, the biggest shit eating grin on his cum soaked face.

“You love me, huh?” He pondered with a fleeting kiss to your lips. “Or do you just love the way I eat your pussy?”

“Both you fucking deviant. Both.” Each inhale rattled in your chest and every exhale burned the lining of your throat. Eddie chuckled as he kissed you again, pressing his hard cock against your still sensitive core.

“Who knew you were a fucking screamer, baby.”

“I could tell you that was all you but then you’d fucking gloat about it for the rest of eternity.”

“Still might.” He hummed, ghosting kisses over your eyes and nose and lips. “You look so fucking hot when you cum. Never seen anything like it. Coulda cum right then and there but I wanna be inside you.”

You reached a hand between your bodies, running a heavy finger over the outline of his cock in his sweats. “Do you have a condom?” You asked, still a little breathless.

Eddie nodded excitedly before bounding up from the bed and over to his dresser. He rifled through it aggressively. Cursing here and there as he tossed socks and a random cassette tape onto the floor in his frenzied search. When he finally finds what he was looking for he exclaimed to himself, “Fucking finally.”.

He leaves the mess he made, struggling to pull his sweats and boxers off as he makes his way back over to you, sprawled out and butt naked in his bed. Once he finally gets there, after narrowly avoiding tripping over his own boots on the floor, he crawls on top of you with the aluminum wrapper between his teeth. You watched with bated breath as he ripped it open, rolling it down the dark pink head of his cock. Once he’s done he positioned himself in the apex of your thighs, fisting his cock and smoothing the latex covered head through your slick covered folds.

“I, uh, I’m probably not gonna last that long.” He said, his eyes downcast, watching the way your hips rutted into him with every swipe of his cock.

“It’s okay, Eds. Just fuck me.” You grabbed his chin, forcing his face up. When your eyes met you smiled at him sweetly and added, “Please.”

Eddie wasted no time pressing into you, his thick cock stretching you wide as he bottomed out inside you. His cheeks were flamed pink, a bead of sweat bleeding from his hairline down the curve of his nose. He pulled out gently and plunged back in, the tip of his tongue poking through his teeth as he concentrated on his slow deliberate thrusts. You dug your heels into the backs of his thighs, hoping he'd get the hint to go faster. Harder. The slow drag of his cock against that sweet spot inside of you was agonizing. But he only ignored your pressing and not so subtle whines, folding himself over top of you with one arm wrapped around your back and a callused hand holding your cheek. He was being so gentle. It wasn’t something you were used to. Every other guy you’d been with just used you to get off as fast as they could. But Eddie was taking his time, having found a pace that kept you needing more. You found yourself giggling at a particularly languid thrust and Eddie’s round eyes, with his pupils completely blown black, shot up to yours.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, stilling himself inside of you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…” You giggled again and his eyes narrowed. “I just thought, who would have imagined you to be such a gentle lover. You know, with your bad boy–heavy metal image and all.”

“Don’t forget local drug dealer and devil worshiper.” His smile cracked wide as you giggled again. That giggle, however, turned into a sharp cry with a snap of his hips. “I can be gentle. When I want to be.”

You could only nod at this, your breath lodged in your throat at another hard snap of his hips. Your comment had urged him to go faster. To show you that, yes, he could be gentle. But he could also fuck you senseless.

“Imagine what they’d think of you, baby.” He whispered into your ear, forehead pressed hard to the side of your head, his hips building into a maddening pace. He had thrown your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper, to hit that spot inside your core that brought tears to your eyes. “You were always such a good girl. Hawkins number one girl. Do you even remember what they said when they found out we were friends?”

You shook your head, unable to speak with how hard and deliberate his thrusts were.

“They said I was corrupting you.” He released a breathy, dark laugh. His hand slotting through the strands of your hair to grip the roots. “But they didn’t know that you sought me out, hm. Followed me to the woods just so we could be alone. Made me laugh. Made me feel special.”

You remembered that day. Remembered watching him walk through the tree line all alone, that black metal lunch pail gripped tightly in his hand. You knew what he was doing, skipping class to go smoke up. You’d seen him do it before. But that day you followed after him, nervously gripping the ruched fabric of your cheer skirt as you went. You couldn’t help yourself, You wanted to know him so badly.

“Everyday after that, you found me.” His thrusts were starting to get sloppy and you could tell in the way he held you, in the way his words doubled as moans, that he was getting close. “I tried so hard to keep you from getting too close. People are shunned for being close to me. But you wouldn’t fucking quit. Always so fucking stubborn. It’s like you couldn’t stay away from me.”

“I couldn’t.” You cried out, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hair tickled your cheeks, his breath fanning over your lips as he held himself over you now. His brows furrowed in concentration as his cock throbbed inside of you. You clenched at the sight of him, looking so pretty and so fucked, and all yours. Because he was. He was it for you.

“Ah, shit.” He whimpered. He wouldn’t last much longer, but Eddie being who Eddie was, you knew he was gonna talk the whole way through it. “You fucking- You broke down every fucking wall I’d ever built. Smashed right fucking through them and straight into my fucking heart. I-I wanted to be good for you. Good enough that you’d want me like I wanted you. You corrupted me.”

“E-Eddie, I think I’m gonna c-cum.” That burning heat had returned but it was different this time. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the bottom of your toes. It thrummed every nerve like the string of a guitar, vibrating you to the bone.

“Good.” He said harshly, the word sounding almost mean falling from his red swollen lips, but the fingers stroking your face were still gentle. “I want you to scream for me again. I want everyone in this shitty trailer park, in this shitty fucking town, to know that I’m the one making you feel like this. Crying for my cock, desperate for me.”

You couldn’t handle it, couldn’t see through the tears falling, couldn’t feel anything but him and the white hot pleasure he was gifting to you. You were right there, so fucking close.

“I want them to know that you are mine.” Each word was punctuated with a hard, albeit sloppy, thrust and you came.

You came with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. You felt yourself clench down on him, hard, and his hips shuddered violently against you, succumbing to his own orgasm from your vise lock grip on his cock. He buried his face into the crook of your neck as he rocked his hips and moaned through it, your name and curses sounding like the sweetest song you’d ever heard.

“Jesus Christ.” He groaned before his body collapsed on top of yours. You could feel his thighs trembling against your own, mirroring the intensity of the feeling you both shared as you came.

The both of you laid there, shrouded in the warmth of each other's embrace, until finally he rolled away. Wincing as he pulled out and discarded the condom. You could only lay there and watch him rise from the bed on shaky legs to grab the half smoked joint from earlier. He placed it between his lips and lit it, standing there in all his naked glory, puffing on it till he could get a nice long hit. The slight skunky smell filled the room and you closed your eyes, relishing in it. But then, you were hit in the chest by something light and lacey.

“For your modesty.” Eddie smirked as you held your purple panties up in the light.

“Thanks.” You croaked, your voice hoarse and your throat sore.

Eddie crawled over you, flopping his sweaty body down next to yours. He handed you the joint, which you took gratefully, taking your own long drag and passing it back. The both of you laid in a comfortable silence, legs draped over each other and his fingers drawing lazy patterns on your bare thigh. But then something occurred to you and you turned your head to look at him.

“I didn’t corrupt you.” You said to him and he rolled his eyes, huffing out a laugh.

“Yes, you did.”

“No I did not, asshole.” You guffawed, slapping your hand playfully on his bare chest.

“I wear my seatbelt and listen to fucking Journey because of you. That’s corruption.” He teased with a cute little smirk, grabbing your thigh and squeezing the soft flesh there.

“That’s just safety and taste, baby. If you want me to corrupt you there are… different things I have in mind.” You watched his eyes widen and he laughed.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He said as he leaned in, his lips tasted of you and the weed he had smoked and you smiled behind the kiss, chest full and body sore.

“Hey,” He started as he rested his head on your shoulder, gazing up at you like a little puppy. “You wanna go watch a movie? I can make some Jiffy Pop and we can cuddle on the couch?”

“Who’s picking the movie?” You asked, fingers playing with the ends of his hair.

“I had Steve score me a copy of Poltergeist 2. Picked it up from Family Video while you were at the store earlier.”

You sat up a little, an incredulous look etched into your features while he gave you those damn puppy eyes.

“Eddie, you literally told me two weeks ago that you'd rather be decapitated than watch that movie."

Eddie only shrugged, that casual slouch of his shoulder that you had become so accustomed to, and offered you a pretty smile.

“I would. But you wanted to see it. I'll suck it up, but only for you."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #stranger things fan fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic

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searchingforakeythatdoesntexist · 3 months

Text

DAY 13 - «On Thin Ice» Good Omens AU - Triptych Tribute for @blairamok

Part 1/3: "Falling Angel" Aziraphale

Please, listen to this

Change everything you are

And everything you were

Your number has been called

Fights and battles have begun

Revenge will surely come

Your hard times are ahead

Don't let yourself down

Don't let yourself go

Your last chance has arrived

Best, you've got to be the best

You've got to change the world

And use this chance to be heard

Your time is now

Falling Angel, your time is now!

(yes I know this Muse song has another sense in the On Thin Ice universe - for Crowley. Well, our Fallen Serpent will show us what IS a true Survival, tomorrow. ;-)

[Previous] [Next Day] [First Day]

Don't forget to 💕/ reblog ;-)

Personal challenge: a simple sketch each day

Goal: forcing me to keep things simple - inking, shading, just a few sashes of colour

Improvement pursued: to get the movement, the emotion, finding how to add depth, learning how to leave things barely finished

Max time allowed: 2 hours, as usual for my Daily Challenges. Well, this is a very special Tribute for me, and I was on a three-days break. So I didn’t really set a timer for the « On Thin Ice » sketches. Plus, I drew them quite in the same time and on the same file to be sure Crowley and Aziraphale would match. I guess I spent more or less 3 hours on the lineart for each one of them (the clothes and the figures needed a lot of time), plus 1h30-2h on the colouring/shading for each one.

Be aware that in my first sketches for this project, Crowley and Aziraphale were supposed to train on the same ice rink, and I dearly wanted Crowley to be watching Aziraphale, and Aziraphale was supposed to glance back to him. I had to give up on this idea later – because the figure I chose for Aziraphale definitely couldn’t allow such a shared glance. (but, hello, it will be a triptyque ! So, guess what? About the third part… :-p)

About Aziraphale, as my « Falling Angel ».

« On Thin Ice » author, @blairamok, describes the Hydroplane ice skating figure as very representative of Aziraphale, and the drawing reference pictures were numerous enough to get some solid inspiration. It’s a complex skating figure. I have watched some ice skating tutorials on YouTube – because I wanted the movement of the clothes and hair to be accurate and, if I understand everything properly, even a slight alteration in the position of the arms can make you fall. Such perfection ! That IS the right move for Aziraphale !

I told sooner on my Gymnast !AU challenge that I appreciated drawing Aziraphale with realistic curves more and more each day – even if it still triggers me sometimes about my own shaming roundnesses. I realised my way of doing art – and my mind too, maybe - was evolving when I got back to check references in the amazing Blair artworks (link AO3). A few months ago, I felt insecure watching Blair’s Aziraphale, which seemed to me too much plump and very soft – not a « good sportive look », I thought then. But now I like him more and more, so maybe my way of thinking is changing, and I think this is for the very best.

My Aziraphale is performing a difficult figure, so he is using all his muscles into maintaining his balance. He seems so statuesque, so powerful, yet very focused and oblivious to the world around him, with his eyes shut. That is why he couldn’t share a glance with my Crowley. T.T

Maybe this is my way to guess Aziraphale’s behavior in the so-awaited « On Thin Ice » next chapters. Focused on his own training, trying to ignore Crowley’s sassyness but still secretly impressed by his partner’s skills. Because they share the same love for Ice Skating, even if they don’t show it in the same way.

Blair, if you ever read this, thank you. For your artworks, for making us dream about a wonderful story that still remains to be told.

Thank you for « On Thin Ice », for your so-kind message last week, and for everything else.

I have faith. I’ll wait for your story. But even if it doesn’t exist yet, I am already dreaming about it, and this is priceless.

[Previous] [Next Day] [First Day]

Don't forget to 💕/ reblog ;-)

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ellecdc · 11 days

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hi my lovely, i was wondering if i might please be able to make a request! absolutely fine if it doesn’t inspire you or you don’t get around to it for a while or you don’t like it it’s no pressure!!

i was just wondering if i might be able to request big brother sirius or best friend barty (my loves) and a reader who is so stressed with classes and workload- ive been having a hard time lately and i feel so out of my depth and its seems that no one else is struggling like me and my adhd really isn’t helping me cause i try and get my work done and i just end up sitting there for hours and then breaking down cause i can’t do it and i just feel so useless

so sorry for going on a tangent i just don’t really have anyone to talk to! again its totally okay if you don’t want to write this just speaking about its made me feel better! i hope you’re doing well my lovely, you bring me so much comfort! and i hope birdy is behaving herself

🪩

cheering you on babes! sorry for the wait in this request, and thanks for your patience in me <3 hope your workload isn't causing you too much grief, and both Big Brother Siri and BFF Barty have asked me to tell you to make sure to take breaks and be nice to yourself!!

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

BFF!Barty Crouch Junior x stressed!reader [GN] who Barty forces to take a break

You were on your umpteenth read through of your notes for your upcoming Herbology exam when your books were rudely ripped out from underneath you.

“Hey!” You shouted at the unknown assailant when you raised your head to see Barty carefully piling your notes together and shoving them into his own book bag. “Barty, give them back.”

“No can do, Treasure. Let’s go.”

You watched, dumbfounded, as Barty began to walk away from your table in the library before he turned around when he realised you weren’t following him.

“Hello!? Earth to Treasure?” He sing-songed on his way back before he waved a hand in front of your face, which you quickly swatted away.

“Barty, this isn’t funny.”

“I agree.” He answered quickly; his tone garnering a severe quality that made your skin crawl. “You’ve been shacked up in this library for Salazar knows how long, I don’t know when your last real meal was that didn’t consist of tea and Honeydukes sweets, and when was the last time you got fresh air? You know? That stuff that's produced by trees and life and not tainted with the musty smell of old books?”

“Barty, I need to prepare for this exam.” You pressed.

“Which you have, and if you humour me right now, I’ll even help you study more later. Now, let’s go.” He demanded as he took your elbow and hauled you up from the table and dragged you by the wrist unceremoniously behind him.

After numerous failed attempts at getting Barty to tell you what he was doing, where he was taking you, what he was up to, why he was dragging you across the castle, you spent your trek across the castle grounds in a begrudging silence with only the occasional muttered protest escaping your lips.

Finally, Barty released your wrist as you stopped in front of an expanse of wall encasing the southern grounds near the quidditch pitch that didn’t seem to get much traffic at all.

You watched as your friend dug his arms into the bag much further than should have been humanly possible alerting you to the fact that he had, indeed, cast an illegal undetectable extension charm.

He was going to make you fail your exam and an accomplice to a crime.

He pulled out a large stack of ceramic plates he no doubt pilfered from the kitchens and placed them beside you before reaching back in and retrieving another stack.

“Barty. What are you doing?”

“Blowing off steam, as the muggles say.” He explained simply as he moved to stand beside you and placed a matching stack of plates on his other side.

“By scrubbing dishes outside like a down-and-out House Elf?” You asked bemusedly as you picked up one of the plates and twisted it around in your hands. They didn’t look dirty.

“Ye have so little faith, dear Treasure.” Barty said theatrically before he launched a plate at the ancient stone wall and watched it shatter before the pieces rained down into the grass below it.

“Barty!”

“Too much talking, not enough throwing Treasure.” He called over to you as he hurled a second plate at the wall.

“Can you at least tell me why we’re defacing school property?!”

With a long suffering sigh, Barty allowed the plate he’d been in the process of picking up clatter back onto its stack unceremoniously.

Barty moved to stand in front of you, crouching down ever so slightly so as to force you to make direct eye contact with him and placing a hand on each of your shoulders should you consider bolting.

“Alright Treasure, listen. Are you listening? I love you, you’re my best friend, my soulmate, my ride or die, I would live, die, and kill for you; you fucking suck when you’re stressed out. Okay? You’ve been living in that library for a week, you’re barely eating or getting any vitamin D which is already difficult enough in sodding Scotland without you actively avoiding the sun’s rays, and…I miss you.”

You looked between both of his green eyes which oozed nothing but earnestness and concern before letting your shoulders drop.

“Fine, but why are we smashing plates?”

Seemingly trusting you not to take off, Barty returned to his full height with far more pep in his step than he had before he read you like one of your Herbology textbooks.

“Great question! I was trying to decide between this and shoving Gryffindor’s into the Black Lake; I figured you appreciate this better.” He said as he shot you a wink. “Now get throwing, Treasure!”

Deciding that it was folly to try to argue or reason with your…capricious friend, you picked up a plate and lobbed it dutifully at the wall.

What started off as you merely humouring your friend in his antics quickly left you breathless, smiling, and squealing in delight with each smash of a plate. You and Barty spent much of the afternoon cackling and dancing under a shower of broken porcelain before you reparo’d the plates and did it all over again.

You hardly realised the sun was beginning to dip behind the trees when you turned to look at Barty; his face flushed red and a wide grin spread across his face which you were sure was mirrored on your own.

“Thank you, Barty.”

His smile turned softer as he looked at the plate in his hands somewhat abashedly. “No need to thank me, Treasure. You know I’ll always look out for you, ‘specially when you forget to do it yourself.”

“Easy there, Junior; I'll start to think you’re going soft on us.” You teased as you nudged him in the arm with one of your plates.

He scoffed and shoved you away from him. “I will not tolerate this slander.”

“Is it slander if it’s true?”

“Defamation.”

“There’s no one here to hear me.”

“Hey, Y/N!” The sound of James Potter’s voice rung through the air as he walked towards you from the Quidditch pitch. “It’s good to see you outside of the library! I was getting wor-”

You never got to hear what James had been worried about as Barty quickly began lobbing plates in his direction.

“Barty!” You shouted as James began dodging the assault.

“Sorry, he spooked me.” Barty deadpanned, not sounding sorry at all as he continued throwing plates at the Gryffindor chaser.

“I’ll catch up with you later!” James shouted as he started jogging towards the castle in the opposite direction of his attacker.

“You know, for a quidditch player, you have terrible aim.” You grumbled at your friend as you shot him an unimpressed glare.

He returned your glare in response to your insult. “I’ll have you know, if I wanted to actually hit him, I would have.”

“Soft.”

“Alright, that’s it. Pull out your wand, Treasure.” He barked as he dropped his plates, brandished his wand and took a duelling stance.

“I am not fighting you, Junior.”

“Those were fighting words.”

And before you could retort, he had picked you up and thrown you over his shoulder before he began marching towards the castle.

“What are you doing?!” You squealed as you playfully swung your fist against his back.

“Throwing you in the Black Lake.”

“Barty!”

You didn’t return to the castle until the sun had fully set; feeling tired in a good way and far happier and more relaxed than you had felt in days.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #slytherin skittles #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch jr x you #barty crouch jr fluff #barty crouch jr drabble #barty crouch jr ficlet #barty crouch jr imagine #gn!reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #gender neutral insert #ellecdc fics

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shadowsingerofnight · 6 days

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So um, to be honest I don’t know what this is. It was on a whim, written in one go so don’t take it too seriously lol

It was inspired by this post right here, by @dawntoducks

Hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of the door slamming shut brought Elain back to reality.

Standing in the middle of the sitting-room, she glanced to the window, to the city beyond. Velaris was in full bloom, children running and laughing just outside. She could even spot some kites flying this and that way, guided by tiny, giggling kids.

She had always thought kites to belong in fairytales, somehow never considered actually playing with one. She marvelled at them.

She kept watching- stalling, as one little girl accidentally bumped into the big magnolia tree outside the gate and let go of the slim thread she was holding. A cry sounded, the girl immediately getting up and jumping towards the sky. Desperately trying to reach high, high, higher- like the hurt didn’t matter, like she just wanted to get back what she had lost. But it was too late.

Elain blinked. Once. Twice.

Her heart began racing, the rhythm akin a horse’s gallop. Frantic, but with purpose.

It was always like that, her soul recognising a song she sometimes could faintly hear herself. A poem that had existed within her since the dawn of time, somehow.

“Are you okay?”

Somewhere among the blooming trees…

Elain had never heard a voice like that. Not when she was human, not after. Non since she had heard his for the first time. A voice so stark and yet warm. So deep and yet melodious.

She could feel it, tingling on her skin.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, still not looking at him.

Outside, on a magic wind, the girl’s kite flew right back in her arms. Elain smiled faintly.

“I… felt something,” he replied. “Like you were calling for me.”

She was? Honestly, it wouldn’t have surprised her. Elain still didn’t quite understand how this whole thing worked. But could he actually feel when she was thinking about him?

It was quite a lot.

“That’s why I thought you were in danger.” He went on, “I assumed it was the only way you could call for help.” His tone was low, steady. Like he didn’t want to scare her away.

Because I know it wouldn’t be me you’d call if you could help it.

She hated that he didn’t understand. She hated that she could not bring herself to tell him the truth, how his smile was the first thing she saw in the morning. That his laugh sounded in her ears with every step she took. That his hands were what she imagined when she… Red stained her cheeks.

She hadn’t yet looked at him, but she could just see his head dip to the side as if wondering what she was thinking about. Or rather, was she really thinking about what he suspected?

At the top of the tallest mountain…

“Elain,” he whispered and then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, okay?”

Elain furrowed her brows, but her chin remained dipped.

He sighed unevenly and then spat, voice higher, “I’m sorry the Cauldron made me your mate. I’m sorry I’m so abhorrent you can’t even look at me. Just tell me you’re fine and I’ll go.” His arms slackened at his sides. Defeated.

Elain’s head snapped towards him then. Her eyes met one of russet and one of gold, like the brightest of suns on a fall day. She saw the tears first, the same ones she could feel marking her own cheeks.

In the depths of all the seas…

“You-,” she sniffed. “You stupid, stupid prick.”

She saw his eyes widen the instant she closed the distance between them and pointed an accusatory finger to his chest.

“You know nothing!” She yelled. Actually yelled.

Elain wiped some of the tears away, but they kept coming like an overflowing river. Feelings buried so deep came afloat.

“Don’t you understand I can’t look at you?” She demanded more than asked.

“How can you not see I’m burning?” Her index finger kept poking his chest of its own volition while his face had paled alarmingly. He was looking down at her, tears glistening in the light.

On a journey so certain…

“You think I don’t feel anything”? Elain sniffed again. “Well, you’re so terribly wrong! I feel so much every time I look at you, I don’t know what to do.” Words were flowing and she didn’t even have to think them.

“You live with me every second of every day. You render me useless every time I think of you because all I want is to touch you and kiss you and hold you and never let go.”

He caught her wrist and flattened her hand above his heart. It was beating so fast.

“I want you, Lucien.” She could feel him tremble underneath her palm, just when he closed his eyes as to savour her words. “I just don’t want to burn you.”

Lucien smiled, so sweet and wicked at the same time, eyes so full of hope she cursed herself for not telling him sooner. “Didn’t you hear?” He whispered, his breath caressing her neck. “I’m the Lord of Flames.”

I search for light and I find you.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #sarah j maas #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien #elucien fic

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ms-scarletwings · 5 months

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Irken senses, and other ponderings

You know, every time I start to wonder if I’ve finally run out of things to coherently say on the whole “speculating about irken biology” matter, a whole something more is induced to hatch out of the dehydrated floam inside my skull. Between you and me, I think the eggs are triggered by ironic timing.

Anywho, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the world hypothetically through Irken eyes, and other sensory organs. Think I’ll go down them piece by piece, and to follow the pattern I’ve kept through my other Irken brain dumps, I will be drawing a huge amount of inspiration from real life arthropods. Yes, I’m very aware that realistically, any resemblance to earth insects would be coincidental from an alien species, and there’s plenty of room to make up whatever somewhat plausible explanation you can for any faucet of their anatomy. Personally, I like to run from the convergent evolution angle, since I find it no less grounded, full of potential connections the show itself all but begs me to draw, and just plain fun. Let’s get into it.

Also like towards the end there’s a whole section on the hypothetical edibility of Irkens because why not

Prelude: If you want to hear a little more behind my theory about the Irken diet revolving around sugar and a small portion of minerals, you can zip onto this analysis I did, in which I touch on some ideas of mine regarding the composition of Irken skin, their reaction to meat, etc. that works from the assumption that Irkens evolved out of an arthropod-like ancestor. Not necessary to get the gist of this one, but it is background context behind my thought process.

Sight

The Irken oculus is perhaps the most striking feature of the species, very much resembling those tiny crawling things they have been inspired by; however, it’s tougher to say exactly how far the similarity of their insides go. The eyes of most arthropods are in fact along the more simple branches of the evolutionary tree. We know that Irkens are not likely to possess compound eyes, like those found in flies and most other insects, because compound eyes are specialized for wide FOV ranges at the sacrifice of visual resolution quality. Instead, I see a much closer match to a fascinating exception or two found in Earth’s arachnids.

While most of them have utterly piss-poor vision, the hunting styles of jumping spiders necessitated a great deal of further specialization of the organs for depth perception, color differentiation, and sharp images. These are the purpose of those two huge shiners at the front (the other 6 boosting their range for detecting blurry peripheral movement and threats), and these are what bring their effective vision on a level much closer to that of familiar binocular mammals than their own six legged prey. Now I really think we are working with the base of what Irken peepers likely developed out of. One of the ways they have really diverged off is in the fact that while jumping spiders can only move their retinas, irkens seem as though they are able to move the lens of the eye themselves- or at the very least, Zim does, else the false pupils in his disguise contacts would not behave quite so convincingly. To speak about the lenses themselves, their eyes are not dry and exposed like most arthropods, speaking to a vulnerable sensitivity. They clearly have blinking eyelids, shed tears, and Zim even complains about the “scratchy” feeling of getting used to that part of his kid disguise.

(Funny sidenote: I’m like 90% sure that Zim did not have those contact lenses designed correctly for himself. Usually, if contacts feel that uncomfortable and keep falling off of the eye as easily as his do, it’s a sign of them being poorly fitted. This could be another symptom of his outdated/lower quality invader tech.)

Not only do Irkens have an assumed base vision resolution that seems more or less on par with human beings, but Invader elites are fitted with ocular implants that grant them a significantly greater advantage in this realm. We don’t know to a certainty how well improved an Irken soldier’s vision is, but Zim was confidently able, within seconds and under pressure, to pick out the area of town he lived in from what was miles away under night hours.

On the topic of night vision, I have a hunch that even without the cybernetics, these guys are adapted to see much better than we in dim to dark environments as well. Most of the early part of their life cycle is lived out in subterranean crèches. On the surface, daytime Irk is cast in a sunset red atmosphere. Oddly, a massive portion of their fashion and architectural aesthetics show a preference for these dark, warmer tones. Ruby is far and away the most common eye color in their kind. All of these facts suggest that warm-spectrum hues and pigments were incredibly common in the homeworld’s history, to point of indicating something about a cultural attraction to them- kind of like how humans put the color blue all over so much corporate branding and elsewhere. Zim’s favorite color has also been revealed to be purple. Most of all, given what I’ve seen of Irk’s, Blorch’s, and Devastis’s surface skies, AND Zim’s reaction to staring directly at the sun for more than a few seconds, I’m assuming that most Irkens are wholly unfamiliar with living in an environment as brightly lit as midday Earth.

I do think Irken eyes “glow” in the dark, but not in the emitting sense. Just more in the reflective one. This they would owe to a well developed tapetum lucidum, as seen in cats and deer and pretty much any animal to give off an eerie eye shine under the right lighting. To point back to arachnids, wolf spiders are speedy nocturnal murder machines with highly developed tapetum lucida, in their secondary eyes, at least. What I love the most about that is it makes it very easy to tell if you’re looking at a mother spider because her babies will give off the same eyeshine if you take a pic of one with the flash on.

Additionally, I won’t forget that sleep is no longer a necessity for our alien subjects. This alone gives them a major edge over any dinural race such as humanity. While Zim has his appearances to keep up during the day, the nighttime on Earth is actually when he is allowed the most free rein to work on his endeavors uninterrupted.

Sound

Ah, so this is the part where I rattle off the common theories we’ve collectively formed about Irken antennae as the replacement for an external ear, eh? Yes, but actually no…. jokes aside, it’s just no. I’ll get to the deal with antennae, but as you might imagine, hearing ability also varies all over the place in the insect world.

It is true that antennae play a large role in the hearing of some critters, such as mosquitoes, whose males use them to pick out the high frequency wing beats of nearby females in a swarm. Crickets, on the other hand, use sensory organs on their legs tuned to much lower sound ranges. There’s no one way to evolutionarily put together a sort-of ear, as well proven by the sheer amount of times it convergently happened in bugs and in how many creative ways.

They literally be designing themselves like me playing around in spore. If we’re not talking about that mosquito or honeybee example, then what we are referring to as an ear and most hearing insects is going to be an external tympanic organ. Most people who have passed high school biology would be able to recognize a visible tympanum in frogs- that circular thing right behind the eyes in most species, and understand it as their version of an ear drum. Many bugs’ tympanums are likewise thin chitinous membranes situated… potentially just about anywhere on the body (again, see above). This is what I think Irkens use as a primary hearing organ, in his case, probably situated on their heads in addition to the feelers. The latter organs I think would also be sensitive to general vibrations and subtler environmental cues, like wind direction and pressure changes, but the bulk of their hearing would be owed to the tympanum.

As far as the quality of their hearing, well, there’s not any sign it differs much from the human experience. Like us, they communicate through verbal language, and the existence of the “Dancing Arcade Game (but for aliens)” confirms at least a similar cultural propensity for music as an entertainment form. Zim is an outlier for the fact that he seems genuinely a little hard of hearing next to his kin, screaming as naturally as he talks and repeatedly mishearing (if hearing at all) people who are speaking directly at him. It’s clear something’s up with his hearing, but there’s no clear answer what and why. At first I was tempted to suggest something about sound passing much differently through the medium of earth’s atmosphere (kind of like how noise on Mars would sound muffled to us), but neither Tak nor Skoodge seemed to pick up the problem when they arrived. It really could be as simple as some kind of birth defect, or even glitches in how his corrupted PAK is processing the inputs it receives. Like many others, I want to imagine that his wig could be interfering too, since it covers the whole top portion of his head; as well, I noticed he has more of those incidents with it on than not.

Smell

Alrighty, NOW we can round back to focusing on the antennae, because this is actually the main thing our insects fine tuned theirs for. And when I say fine tuned- I mean fine tuned. Blood suckers that find their prey through the CO2 of their breath, flies that can pick up on potential food sources from miles away; In the land of the little, scent is everything. Beyond it being their main tool for exploring the environment for what to eat and what to avoid, chemical messages are the backbone of bug-to-bug communication. Pheromones are the divining rod of lonely spiders looking for a mate. They are the bugle of yellow jackets when rallying the nest to attack a threat, and they are the signals that govern about every single action an ant takes from adulthood until death. Obviously, Irkens are much more sight & hearing dependent than these comparisons, but they still have much more bodily specialization dedicated to this sense than we can relate to. For one, they are fastidiously hygienic. Like, “the care-bots from that really creepy episode of the Buzz lightyear cartoon” hygienic. We have yet to see any livable surface of Irk that is not sky to underground terraformed over in all-consuming metal infrastructure. There’s less than no sign of visible life besides the Irkens; ffs, there’s not even soil in sight. Not on Devastis, either. The Organic Sweep sounds like such a nice and pretty euphemism in the face of the actual horror of Blorch’s fate, and all to spare the boots of their military from touching even a speck of “unsavory alien filth”. They live in such a controlled and purified environment that I can’t even imagine the absolute assault on the senses Zim’s every day on our barbaric ball of dirt is. Over and over again he gives off the impression that the constant stink of this place is in fact his chief complaint about living among us. The majority of insults he throws toward humans relate to how they smell or the fact that he finds them “filthy”. We’re flat out nasty to him and I don’t blame him. Even relative to other animals, humans are especially RANK due to the combination of sweat, oils, and bacteria that coat our skin.

And believe it or not, I do think Irkens are in a position to talk shit in this regard. Zim is a really sweaty boi; however, I posed an idea back in that write up about Irken skin before- to summarize- that his kind maintain remarkably sterile cuticles due to the presence of a toxic chemical in their skin. This, I said then, could have been the key to Zim’s lice repelling trait, but I wasn’t so specific at the time about more than that. I got the idea from a group of millipedes that, when disturbed, can secrete hydrogen cyanide as a deterrent to predators. I like to imagine that Irkens can do a similar thing via sweating, not to thermoregulate like us, but as a stress response. It would at least explain why Zim seems like a very nervous sweater. Fun fact if you didn’t know, cyanide’s smell is similar to almonds.

I’m deadass telling you I think Irkens just smell like almond extract. Do with that what you will.

Touch

So, in writing this whole whatever it be, this part was the trickiest to come up with any productive analysis on. I’ve already guessed at what I think Irken skin feels most like (spoiler: hairless caterpillars) in the analysis I referenced up top. Zim being able to pass himself off as a human under the examination of the Skool nurse points to an average body temperature somewhere around our own. What I did find interesting while rewatching the series though was the sheer amount of pain tolerance on these invaders, except in one way. Can I extrapolate this fortitude to Irkens universally? Probably not! Zim is a member of the most elite of the most highly trained members of Irk’s military. I wouldn’t take what a seasoned veteran can handle and assume that’s the human floor in a nutshell, but our invaders CAN tell us quite a bit about their ceiling… starting with the fact that these bastards are ridiculously heat resistant. Irkens are a durable race broadly, but their reactions to extreme temperatures strike me as jaw-droppingly underwhelming, if anything.

Irkens DON’T like being engulfed in flames. It’s still a painful experience to them, but seemingly the kind they can pretty much walk off as soon as it’s over. Through explosions and fire we have seen Zim (and Skoodge) survive in one piece. We’ve seen The Massive take a whole dip into a burning star with no ill effects to the crew within. Most amazing to me was the time in Battle of the Planets when Zim willingly piloted Mars into grazing by the Sun at close range while trying to evade Dib. Totally exposed driver’s seat and he was no worse for wear after this.

Further in the comics we see this touched on in the Zimvoid arc. Zib’s favorite method of torturing the Zims under his training program was to torch them at random for sadistic amusement. Quite interestingly, though, Number 2 implies that their bodies do actually adapt to this treatment over time! Theoretically, Zims further along in the program have become all but invulnerable to fire entirely.

On the other hand, one of the truly most painful things Zim has been shown to experience is to have his skin chemically burned. It’s a strange sort of irony that Earth’s water would prove to be an incapacitating force to them in place of any inferno. He’ll smash his skull into the Voot’s windshield with enough force to pop out an eyeball and it’s whatever. Plenty of other things hurt, but he can power through. You turn a shaken can of soda or a bottle of bbq sauce on him and he’s just left screaming on the ground or screaming and running away. Whatever brutal sort of training he had to go through off world, it didn’t prepare him for this.

Taste

The perceptive side of this I think may not be too hard to figure out. Irken food, as alien as its actual composition could be, has been shown to be heavily analogous to human junk food. I hesitate to call what Irkens are scarfing down “meals” in the proper sense, because I’ve noticed that neither Zim nor his kin intrinsically understand the concept. When he’s trying to blend in as a human being, he puts a LOT of bizarre effort into convincing us that he, just like you inferior creatures, TOTALLY eats “food” on a regular basis like a normal person. When Irkens eat their own products, it’s all and only “snacks”. What follows is the conclusion that their eating habits are not structured into any schedule and that Irkens instead graze throughout the day as they please- and even possibly that eating altogether is more a recreation to them, instead of a necessary function to sustain life. Some fans have speculated that the PAK could provide an Irken with all of the necessary energy to survive absent of nutrition. I kind of want to contest this, given that caloric energy is only one purpose of taking in food… but it’s definitely the most immediate one. Nonetheless, they still eat constantly on screen and it all has to be going somewhere. Whether they need it or not, they still readily digest snacks (and presumably use those chemical building blocks to regenerate tissue damage) with a terrifying metabolic efficiency. Assuming that the resemblance of their snack foods and our leisure treats are not purely coincidental, one gathers that sweetness is the largest dimension of Irken cuisine. They are drawn most enthusiastically to carb-dense synthetic, plant, and possibly fungal matter in the same way that the human brain lights up at the prospect of fat and sugar-loaded meals. The flexible tongues of Irkens to me also resemble the nectar catching, segmented mouthparts of some bees. I would be willing to bet that they can taste salt, but jury’s out if it is something they crave, like us, or are repulsed by, like ants. That would have to come down to the scarcity (or not) of the resource on their home planet and whether or not desiccation was a serious threat in their natural history. In other regards, Zim shows strong negative reactions to most Earth foods, if not physically, than in his expressions. They definitely have powerful vulnerabilities to many human ingredients, and so are very sensitive to the presence of these toxins. I can’t imagine acidic or bitter substances are at all pleasant to them.

Now comes the much more interesting question I’ve thought way too long and hard about in the shower a time or two. Knowing that Irkens are likely a herbivorous breed, ergo, thankfully would have no interest in the consumption of the human race… what about the vise versa??? I don’t just want to know what they taste, but what would they taste like?

So, you’ve decided to mix it up for the thanksgiving dinner and forgo the same boring old bird for an Irken you have vanquished (via what I can only imagine was a freaking miracle of luck). What should you come to expect? Most importantly and I must emphasize this, the secret to preparing their meat is the same as Tolkien dwarves, you have to skin them before anything else. The separation of edible tissues from the cuticle is necessary to avoid ingesting the defensive toxins it contains. Even if the concentration is not enough to provide a danger to you, it could end up contributing an unpleasant, bitter flavor to the final product.

That done, discard the head and digestive organs. True as it may be that Irkens are wholly free of parasites, with a chance that the viscera could be edible, it’s not likely to taste that great and besides, do you really want to take chances with exposing yourself to an entirely foreign gut biome you have no immune adaptations to? And don’t even think about the brain- I don’t care how rare the infection rates are, alien prions are a big no. If you happen to run into any cybernetic implants during the cleaning, however, set them aside! They could be worth a small fortune in the right circles. But, for the purpose of eating we’re really concerned with the muscle tissues, a delicate white meat with a texture similar to fresh crab. The bones need not be wasted, and are fine to leave in, or can be boiled on their own to make a flavorful stock which can be added to soups or a delightful gravy. A surprisingly practical use of Irken bone could also be in the compost bin, being rich in chitosan and other powerful garden fertilizers. The flesh can do well fried, or roasted to a crispy exterior. The oven rule is the same as chicken, low and slow, to prevent drying out. Don’t be afraid to experiment with the gravy idea or marinades. The flavor profile of the meat itself would be utterly unique from what most of us are used to, comparable to a nutty crayfish. Savory, a bit of a sweetness, and a mineral hint that pairs quite well with mushrooms or rice.

I can’t recommend serving this to any guests with shellfish allergies in good conscience. If they insist, do so in caution and with knowledge of the risk of cross reactivity.

And there you have …. certainly a thing I did write and queue up for y’all!

#invader Zim #iz #irkens #iz analysis #iz headcanons #cool bug facts #insects #speculative biology #hear me out #it’s not cannibalism if it’s interspecies #I apologize for writing this while hungry #scarlet talks about things #scarlet really should have eaten breakfast today #also happy thanksgiving????#cw arachnid #long post

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arlertdarling · 28 days

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tldr: i’m cancelling my follower event and moving blogs to @junovie. i’m officially back from my ‘break’ but i can’t promise i’ll be frequently active (at least not as much as i used to be), much less that i’ll be writing/posting new works regularly.

i look forward to catching up with you all !! thank you for your support and understanding <3

full original post under the cut

hello!

you may or may not have noticed that i’ve been quite inactive for the last few months or so.

i’m sorry to everyone who has reached out to me in that time — i’m not ignoring you, i’ve just been logged out of this account and staying away from tumblr in general. i plan on getting back to you all privately and individually, but if you could read this post, just so you have an idea of what’s going on, i would really appreciate it! :)

anyway, i have two announcements to make regarding my blog — not bad, but definitely important changes! i’ve been meaning to make them for a while, but only just found the time and courage to go through with them.

there’s also a more in-depth (albeit rambly) explanation to why and where i’ve been gone after the announcements. it’s a little long, so there’s no pressure to read it all if you don’t want to.

my first announcement is that i’m cancelling my 100+ follower event.

...but you probably all saw that one coming lol

i absolutely intended to complete all the requests regardless of how long it took, but it’s been over 7 months now and i no longer see myself ever getting around to them at this point. i feel awful about it, especially because i was so excited about the event and milestone itself, but i just don’t have the motivation to write the rest anymore.

to be transparent, the main thing that affected and eventually halted my work flow entirely is this weird subconscious self-disciplinary rule i had where i was ‘not allowed’ to write anything until i’d finished my old projects. this isn’t an actual rule obviously, but it prevented me from writing new ideas or enjoying writing on this blog/for tumblr as a whole for months. every time i got inspired to write something, i’d remember that i have these obligatory requests to complete first, that it would be selfish and unfair to ‘ignore’ or not prioritise them, that people will be mad at me for not doing so etc, etc.

i’ve luckily stopped thinking this way now, but that’s why i’ve made this decision. i should write for myself and my enjoyment, first and foremost. it shouldn’t be an obligation. it’s not a commission or contractual assignment, it’s a silly online milestone event that i made and can just as easily discontinue should i want to — so that’s what i’ve chosen to do.

thank you to everyone who participated and/or supported the event, it means a lot to me still, and i’m sorry to those whose requests i didn’t manage to write. even with how much time has passed, i still feel shame and embarrassment about how this all turned out, so your acceptance and understanding would be really appreciated.

my next announcement is that i’m moving blogs.

i’m moving to a new account where i have an interaction/personal main blog (@junovie) and my current nsfw writing sideblog. i might make a new sfw one for my other writing shenanigans, but i haven’t made up my mind about that one yet.

it’s nothing serious, i mostly just want a fresh start. this blog has gotten disorganised and messy, and while some people don’t mind or even like it that way, personally i need structure and organisation in order to stay sane, so my plan is to move to a new blog. as for this blog — i might delete it permanently in the future, but for now, i just intend to archive it.

with the announcements out of the way, i just have a few more things i want to talk about.

i’m currently writing this part of the post in march of 2024, but i’ve been considering these changes since around december of 2023, and started drafting this post in january.

in that time, i’ve been mostly logged out of this account (aside from when i would come to add to this post) and keeping tumblr at arm’s length in general for... no reason in particular really? i know many people have had at least one bad experience or two during their time on tumblr, which may have led to them needing a break, but i’ve honestly been lucky enough to never have encountered anything severe personally.

for the most part, i’ve just been focused on my education. i’m at a stage in my life where i have important decisions to be making, paths and passions i want to be pursuing, responsibilities i need to be taking care of... and in comparison, my time for writing on tumblr has dwindled.

on the other hand, this ‘break’ of sorts, away from tumblr, has helped me realise just how much of my time i had been spending on what is really just another silly little social media app on my silly little phone. that’s not to say the people i’ve met and the feelings i’ve experienced aren’t good, valuable or a part of my life, or that the support i’ve received and joy i’ve shared don’t have worth in the bigger picture, because they are, they do, and i’m grateful for them all!! but in retrospect, there were, and are, more important things in my life that require my time, energy and attention [over writing] and that i should have been prioritising sooner. that’s on me for getting essentially addicted and becoming neglectful, and that’s why i needed to step back like i have.

in some ways, i feel a little guilty, because i feel like, i don’t know... like my sudden ‘hiatus’ should have been as a result of some big, crazy life event, or depression or something. and it kind of was [the latter], at the start, but the truth is it’s the opposite now? like, i’ve just been happier these days... but i don’t think it has anything to do with my break from tumblr, at least not in the sense that it makes me unhappy, or the absence of it improves my mental health or whatever. just in the sense that the time i would have spent scrolling or writing, i’ve now been spending doing other hobbies that make me happy, making connections with real life people, reflecting on and learning to love life and myself. i’m far from being where i want to be and i’m definitely still figuring things out, but i feel like i’m better at dividing my time now, and more capable of being on tumblr without it consuming my life force and every waking thought.

so, i’m going to come back, but i’m making no promises that i’ll be frequently active (at least not as much as i used to be), much less that i’ll be writing/posting new works regularly, especially not requests. i’m here just to have fun, be silly, bond with people over stories and fictional characters — and whatever else i may want in the future — but i never want it to feel like a chore or burden again.

even though i feel bad for basically ghosting everyone in my inbox and being inexplicably MIA for like, 3 months, i don’t regret taking this break. i just hope everyone will understand and respect my decisions and the changes to come.

friends/mutuals are welcome to message me if you’re curious about details or concerned or whatever else, but i’ve probably said enough here to answer any questions lol. i look forward to coming back and catching up with you all.

see you guys soon <3

#hoo boy #finally posting this(⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠)ゞ #i've put it off for toooo long lol #anyway #love and miss you all🫶#psa

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9w1ft · 2 months

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wow your gaylor anon does sound well-meaning, but very lost on this blog from their usual side of the internet I’d guess!

I’m particularly bamboozled by those three songs being used as kaylor breakup evidence. well, less so exile, I can see how they got there even if I have a different interpretation of it (mourning the called-off coming out, and having to go deeper into the love blackout, ruminating on the fans view of her closet). but mtr!? clearly about scott b! the stolen lullabies, the jewels she gave him as his main cash cow? the pain of that betrayal by a father figure!! also the funeral procession choreo - ties nicely into your point about taylor wearing black for the stolen masters. there’s also a long history of writing romantic-coded ‘break up songs’ for your label, think dolly parton etc. and mad woman?! the obvious scooter and yael diss track where taylor outs his cheating (which potentially contributed to their divorce not long after). does anon completely miss the feminist angle of ‘this man gaslights me by calling me mad and overreactive, so I’ll show him a real mad woman’ ???? (+ karlie as the taylor-faced neighbour who secretly mouths ‘fuck you’ at him)

I know we’re all known for reaching in the gaylor-sphere, but by occam’s razor, I feel like you have to do some real twisting to believe those ones aren’t about those men.

(I actually wrote out my personal interpretation of each song in more depth but it’s wayy too long, and probably just a repeat of opinions anon could find on this blog and others in this ecosystem. anon has given me far too many thoughts to write on my lunch break rn lol)

yeah i didn’t address the song choices but mtr is a wild one for sure. and mad woman i’ve talked about a lot but really i think that song is actually proof in favor of the idea that they didn’t break up in 2019. plus the thing about the i can and i will necklace.

exile too, especially when you couple it with the other bon iver duet (evermore) and think about the context of the election in 2016 (upon which karlie got exiled in a way) and again in 2020 (taylor connected evermore to the feeling of knowing biden would win over trump, and knowing the pain wouldn’t be for evermore), and idk it just makes so much sense in the context of how their relationship would have had to adapt and change over the years, without having to be about breaking up.

i’m not saying anon thinks any one certain way but i do think that gaylors in general have, of their own volition and they’re happy to tell you, positioned gaylorism as something focused on the exploration of the gayness of taylor’s lyrics and of it being ‘museless’ and i would suggest that while there is value to this sort of think in a vacuum, by refuting other analysis unfortunately this ‘lens’ often makes for a contextless interpretation of so many of taylor’s songs. like if you think about the political angle and the times taylor was in or karlie was in throughout this specific span of time, a lot of these sad song just make so much sense! maathp makes sense! maroon makes sense! exile makes sense, hoax makes sense, mad woman makes sense, vigilante shit makes sense, any number of songs make a whole lot of sense. i don’t think that this is something offensive to taylor like… in essence kaylor is an attempt to understand the impetus behind the artist, her motivations, and what inspired her to create so much of this art. idk, im babbling a bit again it’s just. ahh… there’s just so much meaning that gets lost in the gaylor process i feel.

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ophernelia · 7 months

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! LONG READ

I heard you want to make a machinima. I think I could help with that. Welcome to the first session of machinima bootcamp!

Alright, stop booing me. I know I kept you waiting for months. It took time and I had so much more learning to do myself! I am by no means an expert, but I think I could offer some helpful advice. This is just how I do things so feel free to use what resonates. “Where do I start? It’s as easy as opening the game up and recording, right?” That’s one way to do it for sure. The way I do it requires a lot more planning. Blame it on me being a Capricorn lol. A LOT of work goes into making Lykaia. Episodes usually take me a week or two to make. From writing the script, to filming and editing, it takes hours upon hours to produce. I love doing it. It's like a passion project, so the hours of free time I pour into it are really healing. Whatever you create, make sure it’s something you really do love. Here’s how I made Lykaia and how I intend to make other series going forward.

*Lykaia specific info is annotated.

One thing you have to have before anything else is a story. One that you are genuinely interested in and enjoy telling. It’d be best to refrain from doing whatever gets views or whatever you think the community might enjoy. In order to stay consistent, you have to enjoy what you’re making. You have to know what story you want to tell. You don’t have to have everything planned out from start to finish, but get a good idea of what you want to explore first. The first season of Lykaia was just for me to try out machinima making. I didn’t have much direction with the story. Lykaia is just the cinematic version of my gameplay save. Lou and Imogen were my current household, so I figured I’d tell their story. It can be something as simple as that. A favorite household you love playing. A favorite story trope you’re into. Whatever inspires you. Try not to focus on how the masses will react to it. There’s an audience for everything. The viewership will come. Don’t let that discourage you or be your main focus. Enjoy the process of creating. Create for creation’s sake, not for praise or viewership.

What makes a good story? I’m not sure. Sorry! I still wonder if Lykaia’s story is good. Though, even if it isn't, I just like telling it! Having interesting or complex characters is a good tip though. I quite like the idea of there being very few or no true villain in a story. Complex lives, complex people. It’s good to get an idea of who your characters are. What do they like? What do they dislike? How do they behave around people they’re close with? What was their childhood like? How do they speak? What do they look like? Where are they from? How do they handle conflict? How do they handle romance? There’s a bunch of questions you can ask to work on building out your characters. Once you’ve got a good idea of who your characters are at this starting point, you can build outside of their world. Make their friends, make their family. Figure out where they’re from geographically. How does their environment impact their life? What’s the place they live in like? Do they like living there? Where is it? What’s the climate? Are you using in-game world names, making up your own, or using real life places? How does all of that impact the story line? Are they a small town person or a city person? Go in depth thinking about all these questions. I’ll include a list of these questions for you to answer. You don’t have to share these with me! It’s simply for you to plan things out on your own. Again, you don’t have to have everything planned out. Nothing has to be permanent. Watching characters grow and their environment change is entertaining. Just know where you want to start at least. Playing the game can help give you some inspo too! The sims have a habit of being pretty messy on their own. Once you figure out what story you want to tell, you’re ready to move forward.

*Like I mentioned previously, Lykaia is essentially the cinematic version of my gameplay save. The stories I told myself when playing their household, I am now telling to you. However, over the course of making the show for the last few months it’s really grown and developed. With the addition of characters like Savannah and Owen, to developing a thoughtful storyline for Rory, all of that has come as I’ve worked on the show. I’ve always had a thing for storytelling growing up. Won young authors competitions all throughout my schooling, but never did much with it in adulthood until now. When I say I take the time out to really develop the cast, I do. Lykaia takes place in several worlds. I even develop those out too. I think about the culture there. How close they are to other worlds. All of that really helps build a deep lore for your series that your audience and yourself will enjoy.

As for making the cast, I won’t go in depth about actually making your characters in CAS. That process is pretty straight-forward and solely up to you. Make your cast look however you want them to. Use cc, make the cast with vanilla TS4, it’s up to you. I can’t offer much advice about that. It’s a pretty personal process. (Personal as in, you do what you wanna do lol. Not in a ‘I don’t wanna share my process’ type of way.)

The next step after that is world building. This part should be a lot more simple if you’ve planned out your story. I mean literally world building. If you want a really unique looking series, it’s time to start building babe. Build your own lots, edit the worlds, do it all. I mean really go in! You can use inspo from Pinterest to help. I do that often. Check out the world building inspo for Lykaia here. On occasion I’ll use a build made by the community, but for the most part I make my own. It makes you feel like you’re actually immersed in the world of Lykaia. It’s a different San Sequoia, a different Copperdale, etc. It’s important to make your worlds your own. Get an idea of street layouts and everything. Try to envision the world your characters live in. “But there’s only so much you can do with TS4!” I actually disagree (Well, since discovering these mods.) and there’s a few mods that really help drive that home. These are the most pivotal, but there’s a variety of other ones that are helpful too! Like the Better Build/Buy mod and even CAW by TwistedMexi but it isn’t out yet. Still in development.

The TOOL Mod by TwistedMexi. The TOOL mod allows you to take objects off a lot, but that’s not all you can do. Rotate, duplicate, scale objects and more. If you ever wonder why my game looks different from the EA base worlds, it’s because I edit all of them. Add more trees, add more deco buildings, add more debug objects, etc. World customization is essential. However, it is a very tedious process. Editing San Sequoia for S2 of Lykaia took me about a week in total. Primarily because I’m still learning how to use TOOL effectively, but because I put a lot of details into my worlds. I add cars around. I use S4S to make hidden objects show up in-game. It’s a long process, but having a world that’s really unique is so rewarding. Sure, we all have access to the same sandbox but we don’t all make the same things. That’s the best part about the community. The creativity is boundless. Have you seen that one person with an Ancient China savefile? Bonkers. So creative. You can do some crazy stuff with this game. Don’t be afraid to push it to its limits.

The All Worlds are Clickable Mod by Awingedllama works so well in conjunction with the TOOL Mod. I’d say it’s almost necessary to have both. This mod does just what it says on the tin. It makes all worlds in TS4 clickable. No longer will you see that red circle with a line through it. You can walk anywhere. It also helps to place objects using the TOOL mod. Sometimes figuring out the grid is hard, it's easier to point and click. I highlight an object with TOOL and click wherever around the world I want to place it. Now, this will cause some routing issues with your sims. They’ll walk through stones, lakes, etc. Taking the mod out is an easy fix for this whenever you want to just play your game normally. I rarely play my game these days, but when I do I leave it in, it’s kinda funny to see Victor Feng running through the lake in San Sequoia.

Emptied Newcrest & Willow Creek by Awingedllama is also a great mod if you want to take things a bit further. It gets rid of everything and I do mean everything. Think TS3 empty create-a-world. It does so by hiding certain objects, so don’t be surprised if they don’t show up in game for other worlds. It makes things look a bit wonky, but if you really wanna start from scratch, then this is a great way to do it. You can completely customize the look and layout of your world. Add more tropical vegetation or more tepid vegetation. It’s up to you. It does take an immense amount of work and I’d recommend following this tutorial to get the backdrops for the worlds in game. Also this tutorial if you’d like to add custom debug houses.

* Lykaia’s world is based on TS4 worlds, but with real life influences. Copperdale is meant to give that east coast small town vibe. Heavily wooded areas that experience a lot of rain. (Just because I love really gloomy weather irl.) It also makes doing ambience easier. The sound of rain is easy to throw in. San Sequoia is meant to be like San Francisco. Del Sol too. I usually just go in and add more trees and vegetation. Place more cars and deco people to make the worlds feel more full. I also add in other little objects that are specific to the series. More places to sit. Just to overall make the worlds feel more lived in. TS4 can feel like a ghost town at times. Green Haven is a new area within Lykaia that I am currently working on. It’s a full town I’ve built from scratch using the emptied Newcrest and Willow Creek mod. Inspo for it is on my pinterest. It is supposed to mimic small towns in upper Cali.

In the next session we'll start talking about filming, sets, lighting, etc. If you ever have any questions, just send me an ask!

#resources #opie's machinima bootcamp #ts4

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moussofshroom · 4 months

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GERMA 66 AND CYBORG 009

(this rant is so messy i started talking about humanity and sanji 😭)

okay so one person on tumblr (sangerie) briefly talked about germa 66 and the inspiration from cyborg 009, an older work that oda probabaly read growing up. today i dive into the depths of insanity and read all of cyborg 009’s ORIGINAL RUN (i do not recommend this) in order to find some possible inspiration that oda used for germa 66.

However i’ll probably only read 10 chapters at a time and then analyze some things.

Okay, so Cyborg 009 starts out with the organization black ghost kidnapping 9 people from all over and turning them into cyborgs. I’d like to mention the main villain/leader of this organization has a skull motif-

(and a cool cape)

and this COULD possibly be inspiration for the base design of the raid suits-

i may be reaching but the skull motif present in the belt of the suits and the cape might possibly tie back to the Black ghost organization’s leader???

moving on though, we get to the part of the story where people start getting abducted by the black ghost organization to become cyborgs. the first is 001, but i’d like to bring up 002. 002 goes on to have super speed, but id also like to bring up the hairstyle.

I MIGHT BE REACHING BUT-

The hairstyle MIGHT have inspired niji’s. also his personality is sort of similar to niji’s from what i’ve seen of the 2001 anime. ( which was the first 4 episodes 💀)

After several other kidnappings, we meet who is going to be cyborg 003, who’s kidnapped right in front of her brother who travels to try and find her. i’d also like to bring up the hairstyle for this one as well.

this one’s a BIT more obvious, but this hairstyle might have inspired reiju’s- we’ll probably never know if these were intended design choices, but let’s move on again.

In this next chapter, We get introduced to the powers of the first 8 cyborgs-

001 has an electronic brain

002 can fly to speeds up to mach 5

003 has heightened sensory acuity

004 has his whole body turned into a weapon

005 had armor grafted onto his skin which enhanced his strength

006 can shoot flames from his mouth and burrow through rock

007 can transform into anything

008 does well underwater and has makeshift gills.

now 005 is probably the one with the most in common to the standard germa powers judging from the durability (but that’s a common cyborg trope so idk)

But 004 is interesting as well.

if you look at the photo above, it resembles Yonji’s power (but without the “connectors”)

y’know that thing he can do with disconnecting his arms with the things ( i’m sorry i CANNOT explain this well) Although 004 does not have the things that connect yonji’s limbs still, they are very similar.

Next chapter- Cyborg 009 finally gets made and he is tested-

one thing about his outfit as well as all the other cyborg’s outfits ( which was brought up in sangerie’s post) is that is looks like sora’s outfit.

(the warrior of the sea not sora vinsmoke)

which i find interesting, is it possible that sora was made by germa??? idk. BUT IT COULD HAVE INSPIRED SORA VINSMOKE BEING PART OF GERMA AND ALL THE IRONY IN THAT-

(rant here but i hate 009 like he gets the coolest powers and i get it because he’s the most recent one, but at the same time he’s half japanese so its probably favoritism…)

After 009’s test, he meets the other 8 cyborgs, who immediately detain the scientists who experimented on them and in the beginning of next chapter, they start attacking the scientists 003 (the only girl cyborg) then says that they should not partake in the violence they were made for once the other cyborgs start attacking.

this may just be how all female characters are written but idk man this is giving me reiju vibes 🤷 they then take a scientist as hostage and take 009 with them. i know y’all are probably tired of me talking about hairstyles by now but 009’s kinda looks like yonji’s from the side- (if you’re delusional)

(now that I’m really lookin at it… it kinda looks like stealth b;ack hair but less complicated)

It turns out the scientist that was a hostage is actually allied with the cyborgs and his name is dr gilmore. He realized the work he was doing was inhumane and came up with a whole rebellion plan for the cyborgs.

Gilmore then helps the cyborgs hide out in a cave with him. the cyborgs make dinner and 009 learns their powers. during dinner, 009 talks to gilmore where gilmore states that- “..YOU ARE THE PINNACLE OF CYBER-HUMAN ACHIEVEMENT. MANIFEST IN YOU IS THE SUM OF OUR SUCCESS, VOID OF IMPERFECTIONS, A MASTERPIECE OF WAR TECHNOLOGY.” 009 then responds that he can’t do what [cyborgs] do, prompting this-

yes, gilmore is a good guy in this story but he STILL holds the core belief of the scientists that experimented on them. This whole talk is common in the cyborg scene yes, but it reminds me a lot of sanji who unlike his siblings, voices his awareness more often and doesn’t joke about such things as humanity, such as the scene where the siblings are laughing over their potential deaths (minus reiju but reiju also doesn’t fit into sanji’s place so she’s hard to place on the spectrum)

Humanity is talked about a lot in this chapter, specifically how much humanity can be taken away from you until you are truly a cyborg? or what lengths would people go to prove that they are the strongest nation?

The cyborgs soon get attacked by the black ghost organization trying to get them back. They send non human cyborgs out to defeat them and capture them, but of course our main group of the 9 cyborgs win.

Chapter 8 and 9 don’t have much, so it’s not too important BUT it’s mentioned that the leader of Black ghost MIGHT be a cyborg since he had accelerated (which is just moving really fast so it seems that time has stopped around you and only 009 has been revealed to be able to do this so far). Also in this chapter the cyborgs escape to japan.

In chapter 10, black ghost finds their cyborgs in japan and they’re doing good at fighting back But then Black ghost unleashes their new “weapon” on them-

Cyborg 0010. That’s a stupid name though so we’re just gonna stick with Cyborg 010. 010 has been sent to kill them all, however unlike the other 9 he does not view the other cyborgs as family, as he is stronger than them, and eve THEIR attacks don’t work on him. 010 also has acceleration like 009 because he’s better than them whatever whatever. turns out 010 is actually two cyborgs- plus and minus (y’know how electricity works with a negative and positive charge) they’re then defeated by 009 when he runs them into eachother, as positive and negative charges neutralize power and cyborgs need power.

What’s interesting is the after battle scene.

the two cyborgs who were 010 were brothers, and their last scene is them finally holding hands.

009 acknowledges this, and brings up its kinda fucked that the brothers couldn’t even touch or else they would die. now I AM REACHING BUT LISTEN!!! In the 2001 anime, (and in most adaptations) the 010 brothers have a red and blue color scheme, representing the negative and positive charges.

… NIJI has a blue color scheme possibly representing a NEGATIVE charge of electricity.

(idk what relevance this has but it’s a kinda cool fact I mean I could go into the ichiji and Niji dynamic and how I interpret it but hey I think this is long enough)

IMMEDIATELY AFTER We then get this new cyborg that’s non human looking called 0011 (i’m calling him 011)

it’s revealed he’s given the condition to defeat the cyborgs

so he can be returned to his true body -

of course cyborg 009 tries to use the power of friendship but he gets this response, different from 010’s response of violence towards the pleas-

he considers stopping, but realizes he has to look out for himself. NOW LISTEN I MIGHT BE REACHING AGAIN BUT CONSIDER- in germa the code is basically the weakest get left behind, so basically it’s just “look out for yourself” which is actually a common trope for cyborg characters, but i also find it interesting how after WCI in the germa cover story they defy this “look after for yourself” trope as it’s ichiji and reiju who go out for the other two against judge’s wishes, and it makes you wonder, yes the scientists had created monsters but who is truly the monster in this situation? going back to cyborg 011 he’s defeated pretty quickly and he says this-

Cyborg 009 is a series that truly encapsulates the tropes present in stories about cyborgs, and this one here is common, where it’s painful to live as someone experimented on, risking your own life as you believe it’s lost your value. But there’s more. 011 delivered this speech afterwards-

if you ignore the last two things that 011 says that alludes to the poison rain that’s currently raining down his speech reflects a possibility in the future of one piece. what am i referring to?

hey do you guys remember the death pact 😁

HEAR ME OUT HERE

it would be wonderful if we got to see a speech like this from a character who had been experimented on and could no longer feel (sanji possibly) anyways stopping my rant there before i start going off track, let me wrap up chapter 10 of cyborg 009. So the rain is poison like mentioned earlier and then they get better after a while and yeah that’s it really 🤷

anyways i hope you enjoyed this rant that says 5 things about germa and has me going insane about the rest of it lmk if I should keep readin cyborg 009🧍‍♂️

#one piece #sanji #sanji vinsmoke #germa 66 #ichiji vinsmoke #niji vinsmoke #reiju vinsmoke #yonji vinsmoke

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bridgeportbritt · 1 year

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The Guide on Starting a Royal Story

I’m often asked about tips on starting a royal story and I see more and more popping up which is great! So, I thought I’d compile all my tips into another tutorial! More tutorials here.

Storytelling Starters

So, I’d figure I’d start with just starting a story and then dive more deep into the royal parts of it because at the end of the day, your royal story is simply a story. I’m no expert on storytelling but I’ll tell you what’s helped me tell my story for the last two years along with tips I’ve picked up from some great storytellers here on simblr!

Let’s break it up into the 2 major things your story needs - plot and characters.

Plot

Plot is the story in which you want to tell. The thing I love about storytellign on simblr is how your plot can evolve in many different ways. Many of us have no plans to stop telling our stories, so the storylines grow and change with our characters.

To get started with creating a plot, I have an outline that I create for each chapter of my story. I use Google docs and simply write out the scenes and color code them based on if I’ve taken screenshots, drafted posts, or published a post. You don’t have to do it that way but that is what works for me. Others use tools like Milanote, some do their outlines in a notebook. Find what works best to help you work out your plots.

If you need inspiration, there are so many amazing stories here on Simblr. You can find the Royal Directory here. But, you can really get inspired anywhere - tv shows, movies, even from real life. That’s the beauty of inspiration, it can come from anywhere.

Characters

It’s hard to say whether to start with the plot or the characters because they are both so essential to the story. The best thing you can do for your story is to understand your characters. From their personality, likes and dislikes, what makes them tick, what their background is. Stuff that makes a person who they are.

Those attributes that you give your character will work together with your plot. How your character reacts to certain situations based on who they are can even drive your plot. Which is why establishing them both is really important.

Again, inspiration can come from anywhere, simblr, media, or real-life. You can also Google character building questions to help you.

Now, let’s get Royal storytelling specifically! Since this is getting long and will only get longer. I put the rest under the cut!

Royal Storytelling Starters

Okay, let’s get into the Royal stuff, shall we? There’s quite a few things you want to establish in your story if you’re focusing on a Royal family. Please note that you can always change things as you go and make things up as you go along, but I will say that establishing some things earlier on will help you in the future.

Your Country

The thing about royal families is they govern a whole country of people, usually a country that is completely made up. So, if we’re making up countries, we’ve gotta establish the things that make that country, that country. Here’s some places to start:

1. Names - What is the name of this new land? Does it have other countries, states, cities, capitals? Those also need names. It’s common for a lot of things to have names such as palaces, historical buildings, objects like tiaras. If you struggle with naming things, you can always try a name generator!

2. Geography - What kind of land is this? How big is the land? What about the climate? What kind of seasons does it have? Are there any natural landmarks like mountains, rivers, etc.? I’m terrible at this kind of stuff and made a lot up as I went. And that’s okay! There are even map generators that can help you!

3. Society - What are the people like who live here? Is there anything that bonds them together on a national level? Think state colors, flags, holidays, etc. What’s the population? Are they educated? What kind of work do they do? The best part about this is you can go as in-depth or not as you like!

4. Economy - What kind of system do they use? Capatalism, socialism, etc. Do they import and export goods? What’s the average income? What kind of money do they use? Dollars, pounds, simoleons, etc? Is the economy doing well or poor?

5. History - Your country had to start somewhere. Maybe your story starts at the beginning or hundreds of years later. How was the land founded? How did it go from what it was to what it is today? How old is the country? Are there places where people can learn about the history? Museums, monuments, tv shows, movies, etc.

Now, don’t let these things scare or overwhelm you! Trust me, sometimes these things develop with time and you don’t need to figure it all out before you start. Get a comfortable head start and worldbuild as you go!

Your Government

Alright, let’s move onto government which I felt had to be it’s own section because there are Royal sims after all. Your country’s government system is important because it will impact your family. So, here’s a few things to consider:

Your Government System - Your probably doing a monarchy system, but there are even different types of monarchies. So it would be a good idea to do a bit of research on which one yours falls under. Keep in mind, that you can even make up your own kind of system. You don’t have to follow what’s already established.

Political Affiliation - Many countries have some sort of party system (ex. Americans have democrat and republicans and a few smaller parties). I know that most people don’t want to get political, but in some instances you may find it neccessary. But, still keep in mind that you can totally make this up.

Laws and Such - Who establishes the laws? Who enforces them? These are some things you need to think of. Is it your royal family or monarch? Do you have some sort of parliament system. This kind of falls within the government system part, but mainly you want to establish the role of your monarchy and those they work with to govern your country.

Your Royal Family

Alright, let’s get to the fun parts - Your Royal Family! This is why you’re here. You want to slap some tiaras on a sim and send them to the next gala! But, hold on a second. Let’s establish a few things in our families first:

Titles - When it comes to royals, titles are very important. Some titles are given based on land ownership, family heritage, birth, etc. You want to give your royals titles and establish how they are styled (ex. Her Majesty or Her Imperial Majesy). You also want to create a system for titles such as if someone dies, who gets their title?

Dress code - You’re going to soon find out that dress plays a huge role in royal sims. Many have strict dress codes. Your dress code can look however you want it to look. You may also want to keep in mind traditional or national type outfits based on your country.

Roles - What exactly does your royal family do for your country? Support causes through engagements, engage in political lawmaking, host foreign diplomats? It’s really up to you. You can create some interested storylines based on duty, as well!

Religion - I added this to Royals because I realize that a lot of Royals base their pretty much entire existence on religion. So, I think it’s important to note. Of course, like politics, it’s a touchy subject so you don’t have to do it. Want to make something up? Go for it! I’ve been using the Jacoban religion from the Sims Medieval which has been much easier! You can find my guide on that here.

Royal Sims Community

There is an awesome growing community of Royal Simmers! All of which help us tell our stories, collaborate, and overall have fun. So, here’s a few things of note!

Royal CC and Poses

Tiaras, clothes, jewelry, etc. - @melonsloth, @batsfromwesteros, @glitterberrysims, @normalsiim, @thesimpireblr, @royaltysimblr, @threethousandplumbobs, @rustys-cc, @sifix, @ice-creamforbreakfast,

Build/Buy - @thejim07, @felixandresims, @anachrosims, @themarblemortal, @strangestorytellersims

Poses/Deco Sims - @samssims, @royalhouseofcarrington, @novapark, @whitmoreroyals, @reigningsims, @clanmacarthur

Tips on Collaborating

Royal Simblr Event/Collab Etiquette

Guide to Interacting

How to Send Sims

How to Host an Event

Collabing with Others

Royal Sims Discord Server

If you’d like to join the royal sims discord server, send a message to myself, @thealbionroyals, @whitmoreroyals, @trentonsimblr, @thebaillieroyals, or @royalhouseofcarrington. There are 5000 more tips and tricks in there plus it’s where we all hang out to talk about royals, get feedback, and collab!

In Conclusion

This post is so long, but I thought I’d give some parting advice as you start your journey into the crazy world of Royal Sims!

1. Get a Process Going that Works for You

When it comes to storytelling, it’s probably a fun hobby for you that you want to dedicate time to. My biggest tip is to find a storytelling process that what works for you. I recommend something that allows you to be focused without stifling your creativity. And it’s okay if it changes or if you do things differently from time to time.

2. Take the Pressure Off

It’s easy to put a ton of unneeded pressure on yourself. But, it’s always been important to me to have fun and use this as a creative outlet. Creativity is very fluid. There is no right or wrong way to be creative. Perfection does not equal creativity. It’s also really hard to be creative when you’re miserable.

3. Interact and Find Your People

For me, this one is the hardest one to do and took some time but I’ve made a lot of great friends here! It started with me following their stories and engaging with them, then I started my story and we’d engage with each other, then I headed over to discord for more interaction. And through that process I’ve found a lot of cool people who motivate me and inspire me daily! Don’t be discouraged by people having their own friend groups or feeling like an outsider. All friendships take time to form but if you put the effort in and connect with people genuinely, it’s really awesome and makes storytelling even more fun!

4. Have fun!

I can’t stress this enough! Actually have fun with what you’re doing. Don’t make this creative outlet a job or set ridiculous expectations for yourself. Don’t think your blog needs to be like anyone else’s to fit in. I think most people here can agree that they very much don’t fit in which is why they’ve turned to a space like this. You will go longer and be less bored when you have fun and not pressure yourself.

#tutorial #bridgeportbritt #community stuff #hopefully this helps someone #royal simblr #royal sims #Let me know if there are any other guides you'd like!#jacoban guide coming next!

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mindflayerhargrove · 2 years

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Cry About it

Toxic!Billy Hargrove x toxic! Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence/physical abuse, toxic relationship, injuries mentioned, angst, not-so-happy ending, sad reader, sad Billy, please let me know if I missed any, it’s my first fic!!

Summary: Kind of was inspired by Love the Way You Lie by Eminem (ft. Rihanna). But I also added a line from Happier than Ever by Billie Eilish too, because it made sense.

Authors note: YALL, I’m scared. I’m terrified. I wrote this so sporadically throughout the day, I don’t even know how it is because I know if I read it, I’ll change my mind. So, I’m take a chance and posting this now. I kind of based this off a song, but it’s how I envisioned a relationship with Billy Hargrove would be like, just because the SOB would be toxic. But I’m nervous and scared and didn’t quite proofread so I’m so sorry if it’s shit. But anyways, hope y’all at least find it decent!!

Ps: also the formatting is shit because I don’t own a laptop and wrote this on the google docs app, just to paste it here 🤗.

Your wobbly legs bring you up the steps into the Hargrove residence. You fumble with the keys, your hands shaky as you jam the correct one and unlock the door. Without much of a second glance behind you, you slam the door, only for it to be caught by Billy’s hand.

“The fuck you trying to slam doors for?” He shouts. He was already starting this shit. Not even five minutes of entering his house and he was starting his bullshit.

“Cry about it.” You snapped back.

You stomp over to the room on the left side of the hallway and swing the door open. His heavy footsteps trailed behind you, and before you could attempt to shut the door again, he stopped it with his boot cladded foot.

“Dont fucking walk away from me. What’s your fucking problem?” He flails his arms out, letting them fall back to his side with a dramatic ‘thud’.

You kept your back turned to him, arms crossed over your heaving chest. You shut your eyes for a moment as if to calm yourself down in some way, but you don’t answer him. He knew very well what your ‘problem’ was - it was a trick question, really.

“Huh? Look at me when I’m talking to you, y/n,” he stares at the back of your head, and when he doesn’t get a response, he felt anger bubble in the depths of his core, “I said fucking look at me!” He shouted suddenly, making you jump.

You didn’t understand how things escalated within such a small amount of time between the two of you, but it seemingly always did. You invited him to be your plus one at someone’s house party. The night was going well, you two were having a blast. That was until he saw you chatting up the town’s freak, Eddie Munson, near the house’s back entrance. Billy saw red. In his eyes, you had been flirting with the metalhead; the way you nudged his shoulder playfully or how your head threw back in a fit of laughter at one of his stupid ass jokes. Everything happened so quickly as he approached the two of you, threatening to throw punches if the little shit didn’t scram.

It wasn’t a secret your relationship with him was..complicated. You lost count on how many public arguments and screaming matches you both got into at school. Everyone who was rooting for the two of you changed their minds rather quickly. You were y/n l/n, the girl who finally tamed Billy Hargrove. Little did they know.

You whipped around, now facing a red-faced Billy. “You’re kidding, right? You can’t be that dense Hargrove, come on.” You let out a dry laugh, giving him a look that only fueled his anger more.

“You’re really going to sit there and act like you didn’t just embarrass me in front of my friend? In front of all of Hawkins High!” You held your arms out and they too fell to your sides.

He scoffed. “Embarrass you? How do you think I felt, when..when my fucking girlfriend was all over some other prick, huh? How do you think that made me feel, y/n? You made me look like a fucking cuck in front of everyone.” He dragged his hand along his chin as if in disbelief.

“You know what I think, y/n, ” He began, taking a few steps toward you, “I think you like doing this to me. You like hurting me, don’t you?” He was closer to you now. You take an instinctive step back, your neck craning to meet his burning gaze. His eyes were red from the alcohol he consumed earlier that night.

“You’re fucking ridiculous.” You whispered. He chuckled darkly.

“And you’re a fucking slut.”

Your eyes widened at his statement. It came out from his lips with no remorse, with such ease. Did he really think that lowly of you? The same person who stood by him all this time, despite the constant degrading and making you feel as though you were inferior. The same girl who welcomed him to her home with open arms whenever his dad gave him another black eye or the stress of his own home was getting too much. You offered him an escape for a little while, protected him with everything you had as you held him close when he needed to muffle his sobs from the outside world. This is what your boyfriend really felt about you?

Without thinking, you raised your hand and went to connect it to his face, but in your inebriated state your movements were slower. Apparently it wasn’t the same to him. You caught your wrist in his hand and squeezed it tightly, inching closer to you so you walked back, consequently cornering yourself between the wall and himself. A whimper traps in your throat as you desperately try to pry your wrist from his iron grasp.

“B-billy..y-you’re hurting me..” your voice was hoarse,barely above an octave, hinting at the small amount of fear in the pit of your stomach.

“Billy, Billy,” he mocked, his words laced with venom, “stop your fucking whining. This is what you wanted, right? To piss me off, hm?”

You can’t remember a time you’ve seen him this angry. It almost scared you. No matter how bad your arguments were or how much you’ve managed to frustrate him, he’s never laid a finger on you. Ever. You found yourself cowering, lowering yourself as his face inched closer. He yanked you up to your feet, his free hand coming to grab ahold of your jaw and force you to look at him. Another whimper escaped your parted lips.

“What’s wrong? You were talking so much shit on the way here, now you have nothing to say?”

You turned your head. You were shaking now. This wasn’t Billy. This wasn’t the same man you fell head over heels for. The same man who held you close during your darkest hours; the same man who promised you that he would take you awake from Hawkins once you both graduated. Something that you once looked forward to, but now the idea terrified you.

“Look at me y/n,” He hummed in a dangerous tune, “I said fucking look at me.” He snapped your head towards his direction, making you gasp.

You felt your chest tightening with the little space you had. The walls were closing in on you and there was no escape. With tears streaming down your face you placed your hands on his chest and gave a push.

“Get off of me.” You croaked. When he wouldn’t budge, you gave another push, making him stumble slightly, but to no avail, he didn’t move another muscle. Your gaze met his for a mere second and was met with a smug look on his face. This prick was enjoying this.

“I said fucking get off of me Billy.” You moaned, warning him a final time.

“Or what, gonna cry some more? Gonna call me more names?” He gave you a fake pout, his head lowering to make you look him in the eyes.

You’ve gone feral now, shoving at his chest with all your might, sobs finally coming forth with the built up frustrations and hurt from tonight. From the day before, from weeks prior. He placed both hands on the wall to enclose you as you now used your shoulder to run into his body, only to be met with a pathetic “thump”.

“Calm down,” he warned, his tone rising in his own frustration, but it didn’t stop you from fighting for your free space, “Jesus fucking Christ calm down!”

His hand grabbed a hold of your jaw once more, pinning you against the wall behind you. The sudden movement made your head fly back towards the barrier behind you. You let out a muffled cry. Your eyes brimmed with more tears as the dull ache at the back of your head began to turn into a throb. You closed your eyes and shook your head mumbling out words even you couldn’t quite make out through your sobs. Billy couldn’t do anything but stare at your face. For a moment his hardened features softened. He felt his own eyes sting with tears.

This isn’t what he wanted. In hindsight, he knew he had been the source of all his problems; his possessiveness and inability to trust you fully tugged at something inside of him that made him react in ways he didn’t quite understand himself. Even through it all, you stayed by his side. He never questioned it, but he never understood how someone could be so willing to stay with him. So patient with him and open to calming him down whenever hell broke loose.

But this,

This was his lowest. No matter how angry you’ve gotten him, he never thought to have you crying while he put his hands on you. It didn’t settle in the damage he caused until he saw you press your head against the wall to gain some momentary relief from the pain aching in your skull.

“Fuck..fuck!” He pushed himself off of you and began paced across his bedroom. His fingers ran through his hair and tugged. Anxiety and frustration still sat heavy on his chest.

You allowed yourself to slide onto the carpeted floor, knees brought to your chest. You hugged your legs to yourself and rested your head on your kneecaps. You couldn’t look at him - not like this. The room remained quiet except for the occasional mutterings that came from him.

His eyes fell on you and your small frame. If heartbreak could kill, he’d drop dead upon looking at you. The man rushed to your side, kneeling in front of you carefully, as if you’d break if he’d touch you. And maybe you would. From the quiet sobs and shaking, you were no more fragile than a porcelain doll.

“Baby..baby..” he whispered urgently to you. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, rubbing small circles in a soothing manner.

Under his touch you tense up. You shrugged him off and pushed yourself up to your feet. Billy watched you grab the stuff you had thrown on the floor upon your arrival, scurrying to throw them back in your purse.

“Baby, what are you..what..hey, hey,” he rushed up to you once more, trying to grab ahold of your arm but you yanked it from his gentle grasp.

“Don’t! Don’t..just..don’t.” You put your hand up to him and shook your head.

“Y/n, please, just listen..look, I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t mean to..I just..I got so upset and I didn’t see,”

“Didn’t see what, Billy, huh? How you put your hands on me? Made me feel small for the..,” you pretended to count in your head, “hundredth time? What didn’t you see exactly?” You stared at him blankly, waiting for some kind of explanation that you knew you weren’t going to get.

“I just..I..,” he sputtered out with desperation, “I saw you with him and..and I just..y/n. I’m sorry..I really am. It won’t happen again, baby, please just don’t..” he found himself blocking his doorway.

“Billy..we can’t keep doing this. This,” you gestured towards the both of you, “isn’t healthy. We’re not healthy.”

Tears stung his eyes as his lower lip began to tremble. If there was one thing that made sense in this hick town it was you. You kept him sane but drove him off the deep end all in one. You were his sanctuary, his home, but could make him feel so unwanted and needy at the same time. But he wouldn’t have it any other way; it’s what he wanted, what he was comfortable with. The idea of losing you was a risk he didn’t want to take. He was never good at letting go, after all.

“Sweetheart, don’t say that. Don’t fucking say that,” he took your hands and held them close to his chest. He peppered your knuckles and fingertips with soft kisses, just how he knew you liked, “I need you, baby. I can’t do this alone without you.”

Now it was your turn to hold back your tears. Your bottom lip trembled as you stared down at him. Your heart would have fluttered at the sight, but it just brought more sadness to your aching chest. You gently removed your hands from him and shook your head.

“I’m not good for you. I’m not, okay? It isn’t just you Billy..I..” you sighed and turned your heel.

“Not good for me?” He asked incredulously. It didn’t register with him how you could even think that. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You scoff and roll your eyes.

“No..I mean it,” he sits at the edge of his bed, pulling you to him to sit beside him. “,I can’t imagine anyone else who can relate to me in any way..make me feel something other than lonely or..or..worthless..I just can’t..”

You looked at him, a bit taken back, but angry by his choice of words. Relate to you, you thought. The anger earlier from tonight finally surfaced again. You stood up and towered over him. A shaky finger pointing at your chest.

“Relate to you? Relate to you? No, I don’t relate to you at all,” you arms added emphasis to your words, “because I would never treat me this shitty, Billy Hargrove.”

He looked up at you with wide eyes. He was too stunned to speak. You picked up your bags in a hurry and turned your heels. With your hand on the doorknob, a glance over your shoulder you shake your head.

Part of you felt you were making a huge mistake leaving him. There was a pang of guilt. There was a fear of what lay dead ahead. The end of Y/n l/n and Billy Hargrove. A scary ending indeed but one that couldn’t have felt more..freeing to you.

“Goodbye, Billy..”

#!toxic Billy Hargrove #billy x reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargove x reader #strangerthingsimagines #stranger things #billy hargrove #imagine

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oldmemoria · 9 months

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Second entry, Previous | Next

Sketchbook dump because I’m hhwhwhwhwhwhww tired from school

Some of these are from today some are from a week ago lesgo

1st one: a little practice 2-page spread I did a week or so ago so I could get used to drawing hobies hair (I’ve just been struggling with drawing hair a little in general recently idk what’s been going on) but uhhh yeah :) I’m pretty happy with it, I like the one highlighted in yellow on the left page (ignore the foo fighters sticker I got a cd that day so I kept the label for some reason, also my brother gave me that sticker real neat, also the page is so smudged omfg 😭)

2nd: (did this one and the rest today in my online classes because I was bored 🥱) inspired by a post I saw going in depth about Miguel’s personality (go read it, I reblogged it yesterday!!!) he is so kenough this might be my favorite drawing I’ve ever done with him :3 also ace Miguel is canon I’m Sony trust me guys

3rd: random dragon I drew and just made an OC. No they will probably not get any lore. They just exist. Hold your applause /j

4th: warriors au doodles!! Mostly some lore related stuff so I’ll go from left to right with some lil’ tidbits and facts

- the top drawing on the left page is of Reclusebite (Miguel) and his littermate, Dusty (Gabriel, Miguel’s canon brother from the comics that I hear are really bad so I refuse to read them). I don’t think I’ll ever really include Dusty in anything since idk much abt him but I think he’s quite the silly guy. Probably misses his brother because he went on to go start a little kitty club.

- the drawing under that is just a kind of like.. filler thing?? I like the idea of warriors having more than one apprentice for some reason so I liked the idea of Reclusestar having to mentor both Spikepaw (Hobie Brown) and Nightpaw (catified Spider-Man OC, he doesn’t do much storywise.). I think it’s funny. They probably bother him a lot but he still doesn’t care enough to be mad, just annoyed and disappointed sometimes.

- the right page is just spiderdad content because it is canon in this au hehehe,, I like my Brightsky (Peter B Parker) design a lot hes silly and kinda reminds me of fanon harestar designs.

Anyway that’s it I’m gonna post some digital art + headcanons sometimes soon hopefully :)

#across the spiderverse #atsv #lgbt #I have this pack of mildly goofy pride stickers I’m desperately trying to use lol #miguel o'hara #hobie brown #peter b parker #spiderdads #warrior cats #warriors au #wings of fire #sketchbook art #he is kenough #I propped my sketchbook up on on the true lives of the Fabulous Killjoys national anthem because this book is huge Jesus Christ #now I wanna draw killjoys art 😦#I need to take a nap but I am physically incapable of doing that #spideys sketchbook #british spider #✮ Spider scribbles ✮

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gayerthanevertbh · 2 years

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apeitheia - part two.

pairings | scarlett johansson x fem!reader

summary | she just wants you to come home, but as she longs for you - the more that you slip away. warnings | age difference (r is 23 = scarlett is 37), angst, fluff (brief i think), scarlett and reader’s tension for each other, and more angst. notes | i hope you like part two! they get more intimate in the later chapters, so bear with me here. kindly leave some thoughts if you have one. thank you and enjoy! series masterlist | masterlist | tag list series

“and i could go anywhere i want,

anywhere i want – just not home.”

I was never the type of person who could get into so much trouble. I was frightened of being reckless, to have fun. As an actor for many years, the discipline I had was always there. Florence, who was fun and outgoing, does inspire me to have that lifestyle. Although I did not expect falling in love with a worker would get me into so much trouble.

How much I love her through the depths of the world, that I’d do anything to touch her face. She was my rock, my source. I hoped that I was hers, I really do hope that I was hers. We do like to dream, don’t we? We do like the idea of being loved, and sometimes I have thoughts that what if it was just some reckless affair? But it never was – no matter how much people change it. To me and her, it was never a reckless affair.

We connected, we touched, we kissed. I gave her everything, even she did. I loved her, she loved me. I still love her, I don’t know if she loves me back. Y/N had her worries about our relationship being out in public – how ironic is that now – and I’d always remind her that I vowed to protect her, to keep her safe. Our relationship was like a marriage, but it turned out to be the most scandalous one as they say. She sought out my youth, and I found peace with her.

How quickly that changed.

I dialed her number for the fifteenth time. She never picked up. It was always: please leave a message if you must! And that went on until I could feel myself being insane. Colin must’ve seen how distressed I was when Y/N couldn’t pick up, I could even see how much he wanted to comfort me. I don’t need comfort, I need her. Even just by her little voice, I’ll rest. Or if she was doing alright and really safe, then my restless mind will finally have peace. We both promised each other that once this whole scandal was over, I and her could go back to the way it was. I sought out that I’ll file a divorce with Colin – she even told me not to – but by how in love I was with her, I’d never dismiss.

I stood up from the edge of the bed and grabbed my near coat since it feels a little chilly outside in Manhattan. I walked to my desk and grabbed my keys, avoiding Colin since I don’t know what else to say to him, and to my surprise; he was following me.

“Scarlett, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to see her.”

As much as I know I committed adultery with this man, I simply did not give a damn about his critics as to why I can’t see Y/N. I didn’t listen and brisk myself to the front door, opening it once I heard him say: “It’s not safe! The people will follow you, they will talk about you! Y/N won’t be safe if you do this.”

How does he have the right to say something about Y/N? Does he personally know her? What gives him to say that? I scoffed quietly and turned around, but not inching toward him.

“You don’t know–”

“She’s going to be in danger if you follow her,” he reasoned, I try to understand – but it doesn’t seem to hit me. “They will go to her house and bombard her with any questions. She won’t be at peace, trust me.”

Was I being selfish? Yes, somehow.

“I won’t be at peace if I don’t know if she’s okay,” I tell him, my voice feeling small and broken. The more that I think about her being unsafe, the more I feel uneasy. He looked at me with his piercing blue eyes, but kindly. He always had a kind face. I continued with a quiet voice, “If I find out that she’s not safe then–I don’t know what to do with myself, Y/N is my priority. I have to know if she’s safe.”

“I understand that this girl is your priority right now but you going to her won’t be a good idea,” he responded with an understanding tone. My other half told me to punch him in the face, but he also had a point. I was being selfish, I wanted to see her. But it did sink into me, she won’t be safe if I did see her. “Why don’t you get some rest? You can try calling her again tomorrow, I promise.”

That promise is lousy. Y/N will never pick up her phone, she’ll never get to speak to me again. But only for the meantime, right? Worries are starting to overtake my mind and I’m leaning toward the theory that she doesn’t love me anymore. Impossible, we spent our time at her studio making love before we were exposed to the media. Why wasn’t I discreet? If I had a divorce before this happened, the people won’t even talk about us.

Protecting her wasn’t enough.

Instead, I came back inside and went up to my bedroom. I cried in my bed, clinging to this pillow that I always imagined was her. I’d kiss it, whisper so many lovely things that won’t even reach her. But I still tried to, even though she won’t ever hear them. Would praying help me bring her back to me? I was desperate, so desperate to just see her face. I’ll take her home, she’ll be safe with me.

But as I keep making these unpromising thoughts, she’s going to slip away from me. And I’d lose her, forever. Was fate like this to us? Is this how our story ends? There is so much more that I need to know about petal, and so much time that I need to spend with her. This isn’t the end yet, right?

I became restless throughout the night.

APRIL 20, 2022. PAST.

“Y/N, could you give this to Scarlett, please?” Kate reached out a thick document from her hand and I gladly took it, smiling at her kindly as the worker I am. Everything was going smoothly throughout my first month working with Scarlett. Well, working for her I must say. She was kind to everyone, especially to me. I think it’s because of our conversation when we were both alone, I kept her accompanied while she drank her rich red wine that swirled around her glass. She did consider me as her friend, I don’t know if that’s still true now.

I knocked on Scarlett’s door and walked inside, seeing her leaning against the office chair while being on a call with someone. I stayed quiet and turned around to leave her alone but so suddenly – she calls out my name in her beautiful mouth; I could feel my heart beating for no reason.

“Y/N, stay. Colin, I’ll call you back okay?”

I sat down across from her on this chair and placed the document folder down on the glass desk, keeping my head low. I could merely say that I was a confident person, heck if someone tried to talk to me I’d talk to them back in a very friendly way. I’m also very forward, but I felt extremely intimidated by her presence. After all, it was Scarlett Johansson who hired me.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Scarlett says that making my head lift with a single appreciation. I could see the way her smile reaches up to her cheeks, but toothlessly – her cheeks are rosy as she does so. She flips through the pages and asked, “How are you so far? Anything to keep me updated?”

I sighed through my nose and said with an exhale, “Well, I think Jonathan needs–”

“I mean you as a person,” she cuts me off with a stern voice – still yet kind. I immediately felt small when she talked to me that way, but her face doesn’t show disapproval or an ick. She closes the folder and tucks it inside this other folder on top. Scarlett was wearing a cardigan that hugged her warmly, her face looking glowing as ever. She was always glowing. “How’s your school? Are you getting distracted from work?”

As she says those words, I shake my head relentlessly. I didn’t want her to think that school was a distraction from my work or in the opposite way. If I was going to be fired now, I can’t let that happen. I obviously do need the money, my parents can’t support me that much since they have two children at home. So I was alone.

“No, of course not. I mean, I do know how to prioritize my school and work. I hope you don’t fire me or something.”

She nodded, her face looking nonchalant. “Are you scared that I might fire you?”

Was she kidding? Of course, I was. It’s not because I’m working for a celebrity – I think I’m way past that. I do deeply need the money for the studio I’m living in and also for my school needs. This company did save me at some point; thanks to her. I nodded slowly but kept my gaze on the floor, staring right at my shoes until she demanded with a cool tone: “Look at me in the eyes, Y/N. I’m talking to you.”

She sounded like my mother when she called me out like that, so I instantly snapped my head back and watched as she leaned against the edge of her seat, sighing. Although hers was quieter than I did a few seconds ago.

“You look very tired.”

I’m surprised that she even got to notice such a little detail from me, I almost felt embarrassed. I sheepishly smiled and tried to hide my face with my shoulder, but it didn’t work. So I looked down again but before I could say anything, my eyes were still glued to hers.

“I’m still alive, am I?”

She smiles and nods.

“Barely,” she responded, chuckling at the end. A minute of silence was flung in the air and I didn’t know what else to say next. But we sat there comfortably around each other, it was as if we were really friends. Until the silence stopped. She asked, “Have you been out of the country?”

I shake my head, “No. I mean, I was supposed to but… it never happened.”

Her question startled me. And very unexpectedly, why would she ask me if I’ve ever been out of the country? Although if this is her saying: I’m trying to get to know you then it would make literal sense. But are we friends? Why do I keep asking myself that same question over and over again? Scarlett’s eyes were still gazing at me, and I couldn’t help but do the same. I felt intimidated by her – but also not threatened by her presence.

“Since you’ve been good with your work, why don’t you come with me to London? I’ve been called to do another role and I was thinking to expand The Outset in Europe. I was hoping you could be my assistant. Well, it’s more like a command. I want you to become my assistant.”

I created a huge smile on my face and tried my best to be still in my chair – not wanting to make a fuss. I couldn’t oppose this job, it’s a win for me. But I also felt bad for the people who might be envious once they find out that I’m Scarlett’s assistant. Before I could make a word, she mentioned: “Don’t call me Ms. Johansson anymore, okay? You can call me Scarlett. Simple as that.”

I breathed and repeated her words, “Simple as that.”

“You look speechless.” she said, her eyes trailing down to my lips. I completely forgot that my mouth had sort of gaped when I heard the news, so I tucked my lower lip back through my teeth and murmured: “Sorry, I’m just very surprised that’s all. Thank you, Ms–Scarlett.”

She nodded with her signature nod, this time her smile was with teeth. I could sense that she wanted to give me a hug and I did want to make an effort for it, but it changed when Kate came inside the office and told Scarlett that she had to be at Sephora. I watched her as she drifted away, looking back at her shoulder, and gave me a smile that I could not help but smile back. Was I blushing? Possibly because my cheeks felt warm. I was having an infatuation over Scarlett, a crush. I think that was normal since she has done nothing but be that kind to me. At what cost?

I went back to the lounging area and saw Bobbie standing by the doorframe, a phone in their hand. They looked up and asked, “What took you so long there?”

“I’m Scarlett’s assistant,” I responded, acting like it wasn’t a big deal. They had a shock on their face but it wasn’t screaming for attention. I added, “I’m going to London with her for the new branch.”

There was something inside of me that wanted Scarlett to say goodbye to me. Instead, she gave me a smile. A simple smile. Instead of overthinking our interaction a while ago, I decided to pour myself over work.

“Brought your homework with you?” Scarlett managed to joke after our dreaded flight going to England. I slept throughout the way of the plane, I don’t know what she was doing – but I’m assuming she was watching this old film since it was the last time I saw her. We were in Hampshire with extraordinary actors that were around me; I felt completely out of place. Acting is definitely not for me, I was more of a laidback person and never wanted to be in the public eye. A quiet life is something I need, and it’s most likely not this.

I laughed quietly while dropping my luggage inside her small trailer that seemed to be comfortable. “I do, yeah.”

Scarlett took off her cardigan which led me to stare at her back, I noticed how real her tattoos are. Usually, I’d see them online since they are everywhere. But I never expected to see them in real life. I gulped at how her muscular back tensed, which leaves me thinking that she probably does lift a lot in the gym. She turned around and I was almost caught red-handed. I looked away and fixed our surroundings.

“About the room situation, we don’t have a spare bedroom.” she says, opening the door to the main bedroom and I gave a quick eye before I mustered out a word, saying: “Oh that’s okay, I can just sleep on the couch.”

She seemed to be a little bothered by my response since her arms are crossed now, her chest puckered up. I cursed inwardly to myself and sat at the edge of the couch, my fingers playing with the ridges of my shirt. Scarlett sighed and leaned her head against the wall.

“You can stay in the same bed with me,” she recommends, her voice soothing and so inviting that I almost felt comfortable by it. Too comfortable. She added, “I do snore though so, I’m just letting you know.”

I smiled at her, knowing that I can’t contradict to her offer. Scarlett didn’t like it if I did that, so I had to say yes to everything.

“Don’t worry, I’m a heavy sleeper.” we both laughed quietly until I saw her sitting down beside me, the side of our knees touching. I was looking down at my feet when I felt her hand cupping mine, bringing it closer to her and whispered: “Thank you for coming with me. I promise you, once I’m done with work; maybe we could go to the local places here?”

Was she offering me to go hang out with her?

“I mean, if you’re not busy that’s okay. I could also do that on my own. You don’t have to come–”

“I invited you, didn’t I?” she chuckled, cutting me off. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I’m good with places.”

Of course, she was. Knowing how her career is always blooming, she must’ve traveled everywhere. I like the idea of traveling, but never had the chance to do it. I’m utterly in such disbelief that I’m with Scarlett on a small trip because of her work – which gets me so excited sometimes, because I have never experienced these types of things. It felt a little awkward too, knowing that I’ve never been to such places. She was probably an expert into traveling and all that stuff, I’m merely impressed.

“Okay,” I said, giving in. Somehow, I can see how much she wanted a makeshift hug – but never had the courage to do it. Or this is just me assuming things that aren’t suppose to happen. Scarlett was my boss, I was her assistant. Why would she–

“I’ll go take a bath, you can go after once I’m done.”

I watch her as she disappears, leaving me in a haze of infatuation.

It was around twelve midnight when Scarlett came back from work or a meeting. I was sitting by the left-side of the bed, doing a bit of my homework before working tomorrow. And as soon as I saw her, she looked exhausted. Her eyes and her face say it all, she looked lousy and dry. So, I walked up to her and asked: “Do you need water? Here, let me help.”

“No it’s okay just,” she says and thinks of a word inside of her head, but nothing comes up. She just stood there in front of me, not knowing what to do but having this urge to hold my hand. Even if it’s just a few seconds, that could possibly calm her eagerness down. She stammered, “Can we go to sleep? I’m so sorry, I’m just so–”

I cut her off, bringing her to the other side of the bed. “It’s okay, Scarlett. I understand, I’m pretty tired myself too, anyway.”

I had an impulse whether I should put a border beside us, but I felt a little frightened by it since she was very tired. I tucked myself inside the heavy blanket as well she did, yawning and tugging the ponytail away from her hair – almost found myself gasping when her her was down. She turned off the lamp beside her and got her head comfortable onto the pillow; I did as well. Instead, I turned my back on her and tried to get my proper breathing. I could not breathe, not when she’s so close to me. In the span of a month, we were this close. I don’t know if it felt intimate – but it did for me.

I hear her whisper with a tired voice, “Can I ask you something?”

I turned my head a little and nodded, whispering back.

“Yes, Scarlett.”

She paused for a minute, gulping from her throat. I watch as she tries to form words inside of her head and asked with a quiet voice, “Do you believe in fate?”

“I don’t know,” I said, which is a matter-of-a-fact. No one would ask me these questions, nor that I even think about it. But as that word spreads like fire in my head, I began to think about it deeply. Did I? Somehow, but it wasn’t as passionate as anyone is to believe in that word: fate. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

Was she curious about the word, fate? It looked like it since her face was concentrated. There was a two-minute silence, I let her think while I try my best to make my eyes wide open – maybe she’ll scold me if I do close my eyes in the middle of the conversation. She chewed the inside of her mouth and sighed through her nose; then shook her head solemnly.

“Do you believe in fate?” I asked, breaking off the silence. It took her a few seconds before she could nod – I was surprised. “How so?”

“Something happened that I think was unexpected,” she says, dragging her words slowly for me to understand – or for her to understand. Either way, I heard her perfectly well. “And I’m scared to react on it.”

“You don’t have to react on it,” I tell her, my voice small as usual. It was in the middle of the night – and I’m too frightened to even speak to her. “You can just let it happen. Like for example, I’m practically in your bed. Maybe that’s fate for me or you.”

I had no reason to make that as an example, and I was too tired enough to have a long thought about my explanation. I thought that Scarlett would give me a weird look, but instead, she thought about what I said – by the look of her face. She then looks back at me and gave a small smile to the side of her lip, saying: “You’re right. Maybe this is fate for both of us.”

Before I could say anything, she turned herself away from me and it was my queue to do that as well. Needless to say, I couldn’t sleep that night. And I don’t know if she did, but I just can’t sleep. Well, I did have a few hours of slumber but I kept thinking about what I said. Was it really fate for us to meet? Or to even be in this position where I’m so close by her? I was bold, but never thought I’d be that bold.

I remember her whispering a good night and I think that somehow gave me peace.

APRIL 20, 2023. PRESENT.

I reminisce about the times where she’d constantly tell me that I was her protector, the only woman that she could ever go to. The thought of her just running back to me brings me so much joy and excitement – but as soon as I deeply thought of that, I suddenly remembered that it might not ever happen again. I’ve called her number many times, but it always goes through voice mail. She wasn’t available. I stayed up in my room just to keep reaching her, but she’s not reaching back. I told her that everything will be okay, but she never gave me that trust. Why all so sudden she drifts away like a boat sailing to another land?

Withdrawing away from the piece of paper from my journal, I realized that it was around late afternoon at the brightest sun in New York. Colin left me a tray of food, but I never touched it; I didn’t even looked at it. It’s like I’ve made a ritual routine that I won’t eat if Y/N just gave me a call or answered me – but she’s not, she’s gone.

I’d like to think she isn’t.

When I walked outside my room and went to the first floor of the house, I saw Colin standing by the doorframe and realized he was talking to a guest. Was this PR management? I took a few more steps and realized who was that guest.

She’s here, in my house, sitting at the end of the couch with her hands ridgeting on her shirt – as she always does. I could feel my heart mend again by her presence, the realization that she is indeed safe. I could let her feel that way with me again, I could let her come home to me. I was at her home, was I? She was mine, Colin was never my home. It was always her, her, her, her–

“Y/N, baby,” I choked out a sob before I could feel my arms around her, pulling her so close to me that I’m afraid enough that she’ll go away again. She sobbed on my chest, I threaded my hand through her soft silk hair as we hugged each other in the middle of the room – possibly Colin staring at our embrace. I kissed her temple hard and pulled her face away; watching as streams of tears rolling down on her cheeks that almost crushed my soul.

“Scarlett, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have chickened out. I should’ve been here for you–”

“Shhh,” I whispered close to her face as I swiped my thumb on her cheek, pushing those tears away from her face. She looked ethereally beautiful, completely alluring to my eyes. I watched as her lips trembled and I couldn’t help my temptations, but leaned in and kissed her on the lips, almost gasping for air at how much I missed her. I pulled her by the neck and tuck her bottom lip with my teeth, almost sucking all of her in. I had to do it, I needed to do it. Because if I pull away, she might go again – and I’ll be restless. “You’re here now, baby girl. You’re here, with me. Okay? I love you–God, I love you. You’re here with me, I promise that you’re here with me.”

She was delicate in my arms, fragile like a doll glass. I hugged her tight – it was as if I was frightened with the idea of her pulling away and leaving me all alone. I kept pecking her head, giving her so much affirmation of love that she needed. I saw Colin looking at us, confused if he was heartbroken or relieved. I gave him a simple nod and he sighed to himself, walking away until both of us were alone in the ghostly room. I carried her and sat down on the couch, pulling her closer than before. We gave each other kisses, touches, and words of so much happiness and love. And as I watched her weep of loss and confusion, I was there to kiss her lips – touching her hair and her cheeks; feeling if she was real.

She was real.

Y/N,

There are many things that I want to say but can’t do. Remember when we both slept in the same bed? If I say this, please don’t turn away from me. But I feel this sort of attraction towards you. God, I do know it’s wrong. Deeply. The more that I think about it, the more that I feel crazy in my head. But you’re very attractive and somehow there’s this kind of understanding you have with me. I can’t stop thinking about that time in the plane where you were asleep, and I was there just staring at you. Oh my god, I’m a creep.

I can’t help it when a pretty girl like you is in front of me.

This is wrong, isn’t it? Tell me if it’s wrong, curse it at me. Wish me to go away, because if we keep having this specific bond then I might never disappear.

This is just some silly infatuation, a silly crush. I’m sure it’ll go away. I tend to have it sometimes, but never like this.

I’ll be back soon.

Sincerely,

Scarlett.

Scarlett,

This is so scary for me. I don’t think I’ll survive being your assitant, you’re too kind and charming. You’re also so funny at some point, very generous if I may add. Before you left for a shoot, you gave me half of your sandwich. I was eating the food that was at the canteen, but you gave me your other half.

Why’s that? It’s probably because you didn’t want to save the other one, so you gave it to me. But it’s sentimental because we have this strange bond that I don’t normally have with my bosses. I’m scared what will happen next, what if there’s this connection that we have and never act on it? Silly me, silly story, silly theory. It’s never going to happen, tell me it won’t.

But you held my hand when we fell asleep on the same bed, was it just a body reaction? I don’t know, you confuse me sometimes. Do I confuse you?

But I want you to hold it again.

Sincerely,

Y/N.

taglist: @when-wolves-howl @disappointment99 @mysticalcandyking @onetruwhore @d14n4ol @aliancvnas @princess-kennys-rats @aru-son @just-another-ant1 @blinkmuch @natashalovers @natasharomanoffswifeyyy @mrsromanoff @monaekelis @anxiousgoldengirl @nanathebb @bipolar-ride @blckwidowsbf @lizzieolsen89 @mrsrushman @simpforolderwomen @silverstarr13 @gryffindorkromanoff @untitled7717 @daddynatasha (can’t seem to tag the others? :( )

#natasha romanoff x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #natasha romanoff x you #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson angst #natasha romanoff angst #apeitheia series #black widow x you #scarlett johansson #COMPLETELY FICTION!

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