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#like yeah she served an important purpose
avatarfandompolice · 4 months
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Really feel like these boring ass white girls relate to Yue so much because she’s a blank slate. She doesn’t do much, the story just happens to her, and she disappears. So they can project onto her whatever they want.
Yeah I personally don’t think Yue is that great of a character. She serves her purpose and goes away. Probably one of the only times I really feel like they missed the mark with a character. Suki is an infinitely more interesting love interest for Sokka and character in general. The recent adoring praise and worship for Yue is perplexing.
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snekdood · 2 days
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#fave#videos#thank yoooooooou#you get it#characters arent people and people arent characters#people irl deserve redemption. characters dont need to have redemption and sometimes its hurtful to the story if they do#i COULD make a redemption arc for zero-- but it would be stupidly complicated within my characters relationships given whats hes done in#the past. plenty of my ocs still would never want to be in the same room with him. it just adds unnecessary coffee au drama thats just not#the focus of my story at all. and hes not even a real person. hes an idea- an amalgamation of bad experiences I and others have had#manifested into one being that seeks to inflict these pains#likely his redemption arc would come from no longer being a vampire. but idk where he would go. and i really dont care to write it tbh#i have other minor antagonists I think would be better suited for a redemption arc than him. hes just done too much shit.#just in the same way a lot of azula stans would say ozai is irredeemable thats how I feel about zero.#and its how I feel about azula too tbh. yeah her story is sad and its possible to sympathize with but shes like a machine at this point#her humanity has been stripped away by her abusive father- and I dont think it would serve the narrative to have her suddenly appear#in a therapists office and crying about her trauma or whatever.#in this video he mentions how some ppl think its more 'realistic' to have her redeemed but... i really dont think it is bud#clearly you have not dealt with an azula in your real life. they're impossible to get along with and MOST people stop interacting w them.#they do end up isolated and alone bc of their actiosn. even if those actions are informed by a complex abuse system.#its sad but its also an important story to tell so people can at least maybe see themselves going down that route and stop themselves#characters help give examples to people of what would've happened if they made this or that choice. and thats the purpose azulas narrative#shows. irl people deserve a second chance and thats why we make these stories so they can know to try to avoid acting a certain way that#will only in the end harm their chance at a second chance.#not that its impossible- just that less people will be willing to go along w you on it than there would've been before you fell down hard
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zevranunderstander · 2 months
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just watched ballad of songbirds and snakes and I really liked it, my only tea is that I don't think the narrative really is made for a good movie adaptation and it kind of shows, it probably would have been better as a short 1 season show or a double feature because the pacing from part 2 to part 3 is a bit awkward and just because there is so much content to get into, a lot of moments felt pretty rushed. loved seeing the main setpiece of the capitol street be a roundabout I used to work 1 street away from tho & a lot of buildings being slightly edited famous berlin buildings was a huge banger.
#myposts#thg#I think for a movie they should have shortened some things a bit#or just left out characters and scenes because there was a biiit too much going on#like some scenes clearly served a purpose but they could just conveyed some information better by saving time and saying it out loud#like the scene with the girl getting bitten by the snakes. her whole character basically just existed in the movie#to explain that these snakes get used to certain scents which viola davis could have just said out loud#or one of snows belongings could have accidentally dropped into the tank etc you know#i guess its also to show that viola davis character is ruthless and cruel but idk the rest of the movie already did that better#for some reason that scene even kinda made you question what even is up with her in a way the movie never really resolves#or like. the character of jessup just wasn't all that important to the story and his thing dragged out quite a bit#like they could have easily just left that out and found a shorter way to lure lucy out of the room she was hiding in#and theres a lot of moments like that that just drag the story a bit and then go nowhere#the guy carrying all the corpses into the middle isnt really that important afterwards#like yeah i like that the story shows that there always was rebellion on the side of the tributes but like.#the whole games could have shortened to what snow really saw while observing them etc like its not really what the movie was ABOUT#like the movie was about snows rise to power#and for that the movie occasionally lingered waay too long on things that had nothing to do with him#or his development as a character u know.
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angelcent · 20 days
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𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 ・❥・ K. NANAMI
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contents. advisor!nanami, princess!reader, forbidden relationship. 777wc.
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kento is intoxicated off of the taste of the sweetest fruit—the forbidden fruit. he's always been a man of his word, a man loyal to his oaths. it's gotten him far in life to look straight ahead and not waver for petty temptations like many men around him have; it oftentimes gets them killed or they wish they were dead.
except you're no petty temptation. you're the object of is deepest desires and sweetest affections, as well of the princess of the kingdom he protects.
this morning, the princess stubbornly refused to come out of her chambers, disregarding the delay to an important meeting. your father, the king, was currently away and you refused to respond to anyone that was sent for you—not your maids, guards, or ladies in waiting. while everyone had grown increasingly anxious, kento sat back and silently fumed in the meeting room.
what an inconsiderate brat you were when you didn't get your way. he grit his teeth and counted to ten while he decided whether it was worth it to enable your tantrum or not. the great hall went completely silent at the sound of nanami's chair sliding back against the marble floor.
breathing out through his nose, he addressed the grand audience without raising his voice. "i'll be back shortly. i apologize for the inconvenience on behalf of the princess."
it wasn't until kento showed up at your door, frustrated beyond belief at your childish display that your grand door finally swung open. all it took was the sound of his deep voice calling out your name.
and just like that, most of the ire inside of him dissipated when his honey brown eyes met your lovely form. you're in your sleeping gown—a thin and delicate little thing, made of mulberry silk that was the color of sea pearls. men have written poems, ballads, and compositions about you.
your eyes light up at the sight of him as you pull him by the lapels of his coat into your bedroom.
kento sinks his teeth a little, secretly relishing in the moan it brings out of you. “and is that why you’ve thrown this tantrum?”
“‘s not a tantrum,” you grumble breathlessly, melting beneath his touch. you were weak to the roughness of his large calloused hands; the hands of a man who has fought all his life. “even if it was, who cares? you serve me, kento.”
technically, he didn’t. kento's purpose was to keep your father levelheaded on all matters, to be the voice of reason who’s taken all possibilities into consideration. but then again, he’s still a citizen of this kingdom so you're somewhat right.
"i don't serve you," he grits, running his hands down your sides to lift you onto your vanity. he greedily pushes the dainty hem of your gown higher up your thighs.
and you sigh at this, wrapping your legs around his middle, locking your ankles behind his back. "mmm, yeah yeah. whatever you say."
“are you satisfied?” he grits out, desperate to remain the voice of reason. but he wants nothing more than to ravish you; to make you moan and beg for him to ruin you. his mind is spinning. “everyone is still waiting. the king—your father—will hear of this from the others when he returns.”
“so? they can wait.” you scoff, petulant as ever. it's true, too. everyone will wait for you because your input on international relations is vital. “I’ve missed you terribly. I missed you so much that I even read that boring book you left here.”
you cup his face then, bringing his lips to yours in soft pecks that slowly deepened into a sensual kiss. kento breathes out through his nose, groaning into your mouth as he squeezes harshly at your hips. he kisses you feverishly, succumbing to your seduction once again—reduced to a mere man at the mercy of a beautiful girl.
there’s countless women who are better suited for him. women who aren’t spoiled brats. women who wouldn’t throw a fit and delay important meetings just because she missed him—just because she wants to get fucked. women who don’t purposely sabotage each and every attempt your father has made to match kento with someone.
you tilt your head back as kento leaves open mouthed kisses along your neck once more. he wants to mark you so badly—to claim you as his once and for all. the sounds of your ardor echo in your large bedchambers, these walls always privy to this forbidden union.
kento loses himself in you once more, slipping his fingers beneath the lace of your underwear, the meeting now gone from his mind.
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babygorewhore · 5 months
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Unholy Contrition
Rafe Cameron immediately wrote you off as some Bible thumping prude. And when his father died and left the entire fortune to him, he absentmindedly chose your father, A preacher, to speak at the funeral. But he catches something about you that reminds him of his favorite Porn Star. And he decides he’s going to corrupt you. What he doesn’t know is…you’re not as innocent as you act.
Okay guys the horny demon got me and I once again had to write about cocaine daddy because I’m addicted to him. Thank you so much to @xxhellfirebunnyxx for helping me with this and beta reading. I love you dolly.
Word count 5K!
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Warnings! Talk of religion (duh) reader is a porn star, masks, masterbation, slight cat and mouse, choking, degrading, oral, unprotected sex! Virgin reader! Daddy kink! Kinda perv reader tbh but same. Slight breeding kink. And barely proof read I apologize.
Disclaimer: female in photos just for aesthetic purposes!!
When Rafe first saw her, it was at the annual outdoor movie where the pouges and Kooks got together. The pouges served food and drinks while he and his family sat comfortably in the front row. Topper, Kelce and himself watched JJ and Pope after their encounter. He thought they knew better than to fuck around with him and his friends. But he’d have to teach them. Burn it into their brains.
He was Rafe fucking Cameron. And they would learn their god damn place.
“Watch them.” He told Kelce and he got up. Kiera was getting a drink and this was an opportunity to assert his intent.
“Tell your boy, we know what he did.” His warning did nothing to sway her loyalty as she walked away. He smirked and then it fell when a girl was walking up to the line. It was the Preachers daughter.
He towered over her like most people but what caught his attention was the high neck shirt, covered thighs and worse. A cross on her neck and a wrap around cross bracelet around her hand. Her hair was in pig tail braids. She had doe eyes and bitten pink lips.
And she was carrying a fucking Bible. Which was a shame. She was pretty. Beautiful even. But he hated the church.
“Excuse me,” She whispered and moved past him. He had an urge to snatch it out of her hands and throw it. But he had more important things to do.
“Yeah; go ahead Jesus freak.” He hissed, bending down to say it to her ear. Her eyes widened and her brows pulled together.
“I-“
But he walked off. He wasn’t going to waste him time when he had two pouges asses to kick.
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Your dad gave funeral talks all the time but now you were weirdly excited to go. Not that you were excited about Ward’s death but more about who’s attending. Rafe Cameron would be there and you actually thanked god for it. It wasn’t that you didn’t have your own belief system but the entire restriction? Fuck no.
But for the sake of your poor older father, you kept up the good girl facade. It was easy really. Keep everything simple, light pastel clothes while hiding what was underneath. Your nickname was Kitty from the cat ear beanie you had since you were a teenager. But your dad had a variety of nicknames for you.
All of them were gentle. Pure.
You adjusted your white lace turtleneck before your hands settled on your ankle length pink skirt. The very sight was way out of your true style but it would do for the service. Your white socks and black Mary Jane’s. Your cross bracelet, and necklace was a little overkill.
But no one knew how you used the cross in secret on your only fans.
The black thong you were wearing was already growing wet as you stood next to your father waiting for him to arrive. He greeted everyone with a handshake. Your eyes drifted over the crowd, mascara thick on your lashes as you subtly rose to your tiptoes. Damn, was he late to his own fathers funeral?
“Kitty, look who it is. Hello, Sarah.” You forced yourself to smile. She was crying with Topper on her arm. Apparently she and John B, Rafes arch nemesis, had broken up. For now anyway.
“Hi, Sarah, I’m so sorry…” You gave her a genuine hug and she squeezed tightly.
“Thank you, kitty.” She sniffed.
“Mr. Cameron, now that you’re here-“ You tried your best not to snap your head too directly in his direction but you slowly turned your head.
Rafe was wearing a suit and his hair was slicked back out of his eyes. Different than he had been running around a few weeks prior before he inherited the entire fortune.
He seemed…more unhinged. Something in his eyes flashed when he saw you, drank you in like a man after a day in heat. You gave him a sympathetic smile and you rolled your ankles, trying to seem smaller. More vulnerable. “Hi…Mr. Cameron. I’m so sorry for your loss…” You murmured.
His strong hand engulfed yours, his fingers long, covered in gold rings and warm. You looked into his blue eyes, shining on you and he said. “It’s still Rafe, little bunny.”
The nickname made you want to cum in your panties but you ducked your head with a blush. But you couldn’t blame him with your modest clothes and makeup. He returned to speaking with your father and you tried to keep your glances to a minimum. He was going to work for it.
The service was simple. Outdoors and you stood next to your father. You held a small Bible that was gifted to you in middle school as your cross dangled from in between your fingers. Rafe was staring at you. You could feel it but you wouldn’t give him the chance to meet your gaze yet.
You had a lollipop in your pocket. One you took out of your collection as you left your house. You always sucked on something. Your cross. Your dad wouldn’t think twice as you subtly unwrapped the paper and slowly licked a circle around the candy. Your tongue was lewd as you then pressed it passed your swollen lips.
You took another measure by your pointer and thumb pushing it back and forth and then you stuck it further…until it hit the back of your throat. Playing dumb, you gasped quietly and coughed. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, lipstick slightly staining. You then took an opportunity to look at Rafe.
His jaw was tight and he was biting his lower lip. Blue eyes were darkening as he inhaled the process of your action. His chest moved up and down rapidly. You wanted him to know you were baiting him. But you also wanted to fuck with his mind. So you did the most reasonable thing your thoughts came up with.
You gave him a small wink.
After the funeral, he was out of your sight. But you took the extra step by linking your second account on your instagram story. You knew he would watch it.
Your obsession with Rafe Cameron started in high school. He was a few months older so he graduated sooner. But when you first saw him, hanging around other girls and guys at the private school. Disobeying rules but having enough family power to ignore them. Turned you on. His rebellion was something you craved. Your attraction only grew when you saw him one day yank a girl into a closet and you heard how good he made her feel. Granted, you hid right outside the door. You wanted to be her.
You want him to throw you around. Use you. Take you like you were only made to be his little toy. Your fantasies only grew when you followed him on social media, he was public so you had fast access.
What he didn’t know was that you used your second account. Where you wore your sluttiest clothes without showing your face. You posted stories about sexual thoughts, songs and thirst traps of your body. And he commented on every single one.
“Fuck, I wanna see your pretty face.”
“I want to fuck you. Fuck your throat. Watch you leak with my cum.”
It was an endless amount of fun. You knew he wanted you. He just didn’t know you were both versions yet. And each response you gave him, ended with a wink.
“Kitty, you look tired. Do you want to head home?” Your father asked. You nodded sheepishly. Finally, you could get home and post more on only fans. You knew he would watch as well.
“Thank you, dad. I’ll see you later.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek and started to the car.
It wasn’t an accident you parked across from him and you saw him walking in the direction. You dipped your hand into your pocket, acting like you were searching for your keys as you dropped a thin fabric on the ground. Quickly, before he could approach you, as you heard his shoes you got into the driver's seat.
Playing dumb was simply picking and choosing when you showed innocence. As you drove away, your plan cemented and you bit your lip.
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Getting home and settling into your bed, you wore the lingerie Rafe always requested. Normally you charged him more, but you’d give him a treat today. You pulled out your rabbit, spitting on it and slathering it with lube. You barely needed any on your pussy as you set your phone exactly where it showed the best angle.
You wore the cross on your bracelet as you traced your clit with it. A lot of girls did this but Rafe would consider that it’s yours. Maybe he wouldn’t. The doubt would drive him crazy. Just like he drove you crazy.
He was infamous for snorting coke at parties you were never invited to and you imagined smearing it across his gums before licking them. Or his strong fingers holding you down as he did a line on your body. What you wanted most? Being pinned down as he spat on your mouth and slapped your pussy. These thoughts drove you to easily slip two fingers inside as you grind onto your hand.
“Fuck me, daddy. I need you.” You whined. You wish he was here. You wish it was his hand instead of yours.
You tried to hold back, usually taking longer for a video but you came extremely quickly. As you laid there, sweaty and still needy. You glanced at the notifications. They were repeated. Sliding on your side, exposing your bare ass, you picked up your kitten mask and read the messages.
They were all from Rafe.
He was sending money. “Please, let me see that fuckable face. I’m begging you, kitten. I need it. I need to fuck that soaking pussy. Daddy needs you.”
You had to bite your lip to keep from chuckling.
Normally, you just winked. But this time, your fingers swiped and you replied.
“Work for it, daddy.”
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Rafe couldn’t get the image out of his head of you sucking the lollipop out of his fucked up head. You were the preacher's daughter for god's sake. Someone he teased for being some sort of Bible thumper and she probably didn’t even know what kinky meant. But…god she was pretty. The way she innocently batted her eyelashes at him like a bunny. That was what stuck out to him. A little bunny rabbit.
And then she winked at him. It felt so pointed. Purposeful. She also dropped a black damp thong on her way to her car. Rafe snatched it up before anyone could ever see it and he half scoffed and moaned. A creamy stain that was recent. Either she secretly touched herself or she was so wet that it soaked through and ran down her pretty legs.
The last words of the mystery girl on Only fans, who was his favorite porn star, gave him more than a wink this time. Work for it, daddy.
It made him cum all over his hand again just from her words so he couldn’t even imagine her pussy. But the doubt. The doubt was there. But she was-he clenched his fist. It was during the day and he had a second to breathe in between meetings.
Rafe typed her name on instagram.
As he suspected, it was mostly scenery shots, half faced selfies and photos with your father. A few of them you were smiling, apparently whoever took the photo made you laugh when you were at the beach. He almost swiped to another photo when he narrowed his eyes.
It was very small. He almost missed it but there was a small…handprint? Right below your swimsuit above your thigh. It had to be your hand, given the size but his mind drifted to a particular video where mystery girl spanked herself to his request. Was he being paranoid? He looked at another photo, a flashback to your graduation where John B took you to prom. And he felt at twitch in his jaw. But not before another detail caught his attention.
Underneath your bracelet. Left wrist. He saw a black mark. Not a mark, he zoomed in, careful not to like the picture.
It was a tattoo.
He couldn’t see what it was but his eyes widened. Mystery girl also had a tattoo there.
But you couldn’t possibly have one. Not the preachers daughter. Weren’t they forbidden or some shit? It was starting to drive him insane when his alarm went off.
“Fuck.” He muttered to himself and clicked the button. Turning his screen black. It couldn’t be you. Not this innocent girl who called him Mr. Cameron. But what if it was? He’d have to find out for himself. Anyway he needed to.
And here he was. At fucking church. He couldn’t remember a time he was here other than his dads funeral. Your dad was on the stage, flipping through a book he assumed was the Bible when he looked up.
“Mr. Cameron. What a pleasant surprise. Kitty, guess who’s here!”
He tried to keep his expression neutral as you came from a door on the left side. You wore a long light colored dress right above your ankle with the same shoes as the funeral. Your hair was in two braids with a kitten beanie, in this weather? And you still wore your two crosses.
But you were so pretty. Prettier than last time if it was possible. You gave him a small smile, ducking your head. “Hi, Mr. Cameron.”
He neared you both, trying to think of a way to subtly touch you without catching the attention of your father.
“Rafe. Um. I just wanted to stop by. Say thanks for the service. It-helped. Especially with Sarah. She’s all emotional and shit.” He quickly glanced at your dad. “Sorry.”
“No need. Freedom of speech is a gift. But you don’t need to thank me. It was Kitty who told me about him as well. So I could make it personalized.”
Rafe swore your eyes flashed. Just for a second. So he pushed. “You did? You friends with Sarah or something?”
You twirled your hair, apparently sucking on some sort of candy. When you opened your mouth, your tongue was red. “Yeah! We talk sometimes. I just wanted to help, you know?” You started sniffing. “I can’t imagine losing my dad.”
“Oh, honey…”
Rafe cleared his throat. Desperate to get you alone. “Hey-can I talk to you? Just for a minute, I wanted to ask you something.” He eyed you carefully and you nodded. Your dad didn’t seem suspicious. Which made his doubt increase.
Maybe the wink was a fluke. A nervous habit? Or maybe you did that to everyone.
You both stepped away, slowly walking down the aisle. He felt uncomfortable, wearing a suit when he wanted to feel loose. It was too constricting. You played the cross on your bracelet. He raked his brain for something or someway to look at your arm. He had to prove that you didn’t have a tattoo and he was just crazy.
“So, what did I want to talk about?” You prompt him and he clears his throat.
“I’m-“ Oh, no. What could he possibly say? “I’m trying to be more spiritual. You know, with my dad dead. I just want to have hope, you know? That I’ll see him again someday. I would ask your dad but you know. You’re more my age-“
“Oh, Rafe. You don’t have to explain yourself. Do you want me to help you? I can just…go over scriptures with you. Meet with you here. Doesn’t have to be complicated.” The way you said his name made him feel insane.
You had a tilt to your voice. The way you said the word. You didn’t sound like a little mouse for an instant. You sounded-confident. And then it quickly disappeared as your eyes flicked away. “Only if you want, I mean if you don’t, I understand-“
“No, I’d love that. And I also wanted to apologize for what I said. A while back.” This was the most awkward conversation he’d ever had in his life. You started twirling the end of your hair with a painted fingernail.
He squinted, trying to see any sort of ink. Nothing. He was right. And now he was stuck with some sort of scripture offer. “I-“ and then you stretched.
Your arms over your head and he didn’t know where not to look. Your tits were lifted, your neck exposed and then he saw your sleeve lift.
It was a black butterfly tattoo. It was medium sized. Pretty. And then he saw a few more peeking on yiur skin. Mystery girl had the same tattoo but it looked like you had more. Rafe snatched an opportunity.
“I like your tattoo.” He complimented. Hoping to get some sort of answer.
“Oh, thank you. The first one is from a while ago but the rest are new. Dad doesn’t approve but I promised to keep them covered up.” The candy you were sucking on. You rolled it around in your mouth and Rafe was bouncing with some sort of frazzled energy.
“What do you do? Outside of church?”
“I make jewelry. My own business. Sarah actually bought a few things. It’s obviously not Cameron level but I do pretty well.” A blush reddened your cheeks. Jewelry making? Damn. He didn’t have a fucking clue. But why did you wink?
He was going to lose his mind.
“That’s cool. I’ll have to-“He checked the time. He stopped here before going to the building for work.
“I have to get going. But I’m glad we talked. And I’m sorry again.”
“It’s okay, Rafe. I understand. Besides, I was still in high school and I was a little awkward.” You giggled behind a hand. Your smile was adorable and he had an urge to cup your face.
What was he doing? What was this end goal?
“Yeah, me too. Um-“
“Here,” You brought out your phone and opened the number key. “Just put your number in here and I’ll let you know when we can get started if you still want to!” She chirped as he quickly typed in his number.
Her phone in his hand was so small and he felt a twitch in his crotch. Her camera roll. It could be so easy. Just a Quick Look. Just to see. Just to be sure. But to his surprise, you took it back before he had a chance.
“It was nice to see you,” You nodded with a smile.
“Yeah! You too.” He said quietly and watched you walk away. His mind was even more fucked.
Who were you? Or who was the mystery girl? For once in his life, he did consider praying for an answer.
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Getting more tattoos at the same time he showed up at church wasn’t planned but it worked out exactly to your favor as you shut your room door with your hip and set your bag down. But you saw the wheels turning in his head. He was taking the bait and you smirked. This was almost too easy. Trapping him. But he was so desperate.
You needed to spark something in him, either get him to ask directly or get him to cave.
Adjusting your hair in your car mirror, you scanned your white dress for any stains. The small flowers decorating the fabric and your cross on your body. But this time you wore a pair of boots that your father nearly had a heart attack with. They were completely different than you normally wore. But you needed more proof that you were his favorite little bunny.
The church loitered with a few people, as they normally did after a Sunday service. Your knee bounced as you waited for Rafe as you sat in the front. You had a few scriptures in mind, ones to stir him and you knew he’d never imagine were in the Bible.
“Sorry, I kept you waiting.” His raspy voice caught you by the surprise but you slowly turned and looked up at him.
Rafe wasn’t in his suit today, instead his casual clothes but there was nothing casual about the way he was staring at you. His eyes were on fire. Full of desire and confusion.
“Oh! That’s okay, Rafe! I wasn’t waiting long! Please sit,” you scooted over and he seated next to you. His knee against yours. You didn’t move it.
“So, you want to hear a few scriptures, or I can pray for you, which would you prefer?” You spread your legs a little and Rafe swallowed. His jaw clenched.
“Uh-I-i don’t think I’ve ever prayed before. So the Bible is fine. I just want to make peace, you know. With my dad. But I have another problem.” You raise an eyebrow.
“There’s someone I really want. And I know it’s…against the lord of whatever. And I need some help. What should l do? How do I resist it like you?” His question hung in the air and your chest tightened. You were so tempted to tell him but that’s not what you wanted.
“Well. I just listen to what the Bible says about that. It keeps me strong. What it says is clear.” You nodded. You opened the book on your lap, “1st John 1:9 ‘if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness’” you looked at him.
“So, if you confess, God will help you.”
Rafe bit his lip and leaned in closer. “This girl. She’s a fucking porn star,” he growls. “And she wears a little kitten mask and she fucks herself all nice and obedient for me. But the problem is she teases me like a brat. She never shows her face even though I give her more money than she’s ever seen. She’s her fathers only child but she calls me daddy. And had the nerve to tell me to work for it. She fucks her cross on her pussy when she knows damn well I could do it better. But she hides. Hides behind this little innocent act with the holy Bible and looks at me with eyes that make me want to rob every single innocence away from her and expose her for the whore she is. And baby, I think it’s you.”
Your core was dripping on the bench. You were almost shaking with want and you almost had to look away from him. You felt exposed. He did figure it out. You weren’t quite prepared as you thought with his reaction. Despite your activity behind your close door, you hadn’t fucked anyone all the way. Making out with friends at sleepovers was as far as you got in real life. Your obsession with Rafe made you wait. You always knew he’d be yours. And you made it happen.
“I-“ he held a finger against your lips, cutting you off.
“No, no, no, see you’ve fucked around with me a little too long, little girl. Now, I get to show you exactly how big of a mistake that was. So, you’re going to go home and think long and hard about what’s going to happen next. For once, I think your God isn’t going to protect you from me.” Rafe pulled away and stood.
“How does it feel to be left high and dry? And by the way, nice tattoos.” And then he winked at you.
You gasped as he walked away.
Your thighs were growing damp from the leaking arousal and you were breathing heavily. Holy shit. It worked. You bit your lip as you pulled out your phone.
He had texted you. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”
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When you got home, your dad was out. He was gathering his sermon scriptures and then to spend time with his small circle of friends. You told him you didn’t feel well enough to go. Your mask was secure on your face as you took photos in your bra and panties.
You planned on making more content but it was getting harder because you wanted Rafe so badly. You wanted him to fuck the brat right out of you, making all your dreams come true from his earlier talk. Pouting, you started going through tik tok, laying on your stomach. But then a noise caught your attention. Sitting up, you went to grab your robe when your door was bashed open.
Eyes wide, you see Rafe walk towards you, with a sadistic smirk on his face. He tilted his head, trailing his blue irises over your body, your naked knees pressing together.
“Hey kitty.” He said, stalking towards you. Rafe kneeled on your bed before grabbing your ankles. You shrieked as he dragged you towards him and loomed over you. “The mask was a really nice touch, baby.” Rafe glanced at the cross on your neck after he tore off your mask and threw it. He pulled it, tugging you up.
His breath hit your mouth. “You want to be my slut? All those fucking videos for me. Making me crazy. Making me doubt myself. You’re gonna regret it. Open your fucking mouth.”
You immediately obeyed and Rafe spit inside. He grabbed your jaw and closed it.
“What’s wrong? What happened to that little brat? Aw, she’s done isn’t she? Fuck, and I haven’t even done anything.” He tapped your cheek harshly. You felt his silver rings against your skin.
You were trembling but you grabbed his face and smashed your lips together. You tried sitting up but Rafe would have nothing less than submission as he pinned your hands above your head and dominated his tongue in your mouth. He kissed you with brutal force and you almost came just from that. All these years and it was better than you could have ever imagined.
He ripped away and wrapped his hands around your throat. “Tell me you’re going to be good.”
Your air was cutting off and you nodded rapidly. “I’ll be good.”
“Say I’m sorry, daddy. I’m sorry for making me have to search for answers. And finally break into your fucking house.” Rafe snarled and tightened his grip. You could feel him hardened above you.
He shoved his hand inside your underwear, grazing your soaking pussy. His two fingers rubbed your clit but with too light pressure. Your eyes rolled back as your stomach tightened.
“You’re so pathetic. Gonna cum and I haven’t even fucked you yet. You’re a fucking virgin, aren’t you? A little whore but you’ve never done this with anyone but your own tiny fingers.” Rafe lent down and hovered over your mouth that was parted.
He pulled his hand away and you whined. “No, please, I’m sorry daddy. I’m sorry for doing all this-“
“I’m sorry daddy,” Rafe mocked you, his fingers shoving inside your greedy entrance. “I’m sorry daddy that I’m a dripping whore and I need the Bible to get you to fuck me.” He started chuckling as you grew noisier. “Come on, you can do better than that.”
“I’m-“ He stopped and you almost screamed. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I’m a stupid dripping whore but I want you so bad. You can do whatever you want to me. I’ll take anything but please stop teasing-“
Rafe broke then, his hand removed from your neck and you sucked in air. His mouth slammed against yours as he ripped your underwear off, and fumbled with his belt. He slid down, kneeling on the floor as he spread your legs. Your glistening cunt made his eyes darken. “You’re so fucking wet for this.”
His tongue lapped at your clit, circling it around the bud before he licked the underside with pressure. You mewled and clawed the bed as he devoured you. Rafe’s tongue slipped inside you with ease as you clenched. You were so close it was painful. But he was relentless. Slowing when you were just about to reach your peak.
“Daddy, please make me cum.” You cried out, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m sorry, but please daddy.”
Rafe stopped and yanked off his pants and boxers. His heavy leaking dick was bigger than you thought as he wasted no time running it down your pussy. “This may hurt a little,” He warned before slamming in. “But you can fucking take it.”
Your nails clawed his back as he thrusted again. You moaned so loudly it surprised you but he met you in volume. “Fuck, daddy!” You said against his ear.
“Are you going to behave?” Rafe grunted as he crudely started massaging your clit. “Are you going to behave from now on?”
Your vision went white as your stomach tightened, “yes I promise,” You whispered before your pleasure exploded.
Rafe did too, his movements stalled as you felt him empty inside you, and your damp forehead rested against his.
“Maybe I fucked a baby in you, kitten.” Rafe sneered with a fucked out look. He was still inside you. “Looks like you corrupted me to your religion.” He smirked before pulling out.
“So…” You cleared your throat and looked at him with a small amount of vulnerability. “What does this mean? Is this it?”
Rafe inhaled and his fingers went to grip your jaw. His powerful face above you sent chills down your naked spine. “If you think you’re anything else but mine, then you’re a dumb little bunny. No one will ever touch you but me. Be with you but me. And besides,” He grinned wickedly. “Your dad already likes me.”
Tagging
@imyourdaninow @drewstarkeyslut @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @slvt4jamesmarch @reidsbtch @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @imyourdaninow
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flower-yi · 2 months
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Margaret's greeting to you is sweet.
She's the assistant Veritas took in three years ago, and hasn't left since. Most people applying to the position have ulterior motives—you glumly recall a specific student, because my goodness, they have little to no shame these days—but just one meeting with her made you sure she'd be 'the one'. Her unwavering yet gentle disposition was endearing, and despite Veritas's distrustful attitude, she got in anyways.
(You think it's one of the best decisions he's made.)
"Is there anything in the mail?" You ask, shutting the door behind you.
She hums, "No, not really."
"Really?" This surprises you. Usually, it's a race to contact him on anything new he's working on. "Veritas said he's expecting letters for that weapon he's finished working on. You know, the anti-planetary one?"
"Remind me what's... that, again?"
Margaret furrows her eyebrows. Maybe Veritas forgot to tell her. "Remember that project he's been working on for a long time? The weapon got sent in for a test-firing and it was successful. So, he's waiting for any correspondence from anyone who'd like to expand on it."
(You remember peeking into his office, once, wondering why he was up so late. He promised more than four hours ago that he'll join you in bed, but there was only a coldness to his side of the bed you'll never get accustomed to.
"I will be there in a couple minutes, my love," Veritas addressed you without lifting his gaze from the blueprints he's scribbling on. From the mess on his hands, it seems he's been working on it since tucking you in. "You may go to the bedroom yourself. It is unnecessary to wait on me."
Instead of listening to him, you entered his office with the door clicking behind you. Veritas's head lifted, lips parted and about to say something, but he stopped; adjusting his glasses.
You draped over him, meeting cold skin.
"What're you working on?" You asked, instead. His warmth soothed you. "Mmh... looks like it's important."
Veritas placed a hand on yours, raised to his lips to be kissed. Aeons, your little doctor was so warm. "This weapon... will be a magnum opus. One that will eventually serve its purpose, and will be recognized for years to come."
Even in the sleep-addled brain of yours, you knew it was important.
"Yeah?"
"Indeed. It will be a weapon that will..." Veritas suddenly fell silent, alarming you. He was quick to assure you with another kiss to your hand, "Do not be so concerned, my love. Either way, this weapon will be reaching its final stages soon."
You were nearing dreamland, at this point. You recall it well.
Though the mutter under his breath was ingrained in your brain:
"An anti-planetary weapon that will, hopefully, earn Nous's blessing this time...")
The spark of recognition appears, "Oh, that one!"
"You know it," you toss her a smile. "So, what's the status? I hope the Genius Society picks up one of his inventions this time. He's been looking forward to it ever since."
You take a moment to place the paper bags on the table, setting aside your bag on one of the chairs for visitors. It's well into the afternoon, classes are finished, and by Veritas's schedule, you're sure both are famished. It's strange he's not in his office at this time. You're never late with your visits, so perhaps it's likely you're early and Veritas is late.
He's probably finishing up the last lectures of the day somewhere.
"I feel the same," Margaret knows Veritas to an extent that falls closely to yours, and it's not hard to root for him the same way you do. It warms your heart to hear how Margaret holds him in high-esteem. "Mr. Ratio's one of the best, they'd be out of the minds to not induct him into the Society—oh, are those chicken wraps?"
The chicken wraps are steaming as you tear away the aluminium foil. "Yeah, I bought it for the two of you. Want one?" Her eager nod has a laugh huff out of you, so you hand it to her. You joke, "So hungry you nearly forgot, huh?"
"Yeah... where did you buy them?"
"It's near the university. There were so many students I had to fight for it..." Thankfully, one of the vendors pitied your nearly trampled self and gave you two on the house. You make a silent note to bring Veritas there to pay your debt. "...anyways, where were we?"
Margaret pauses, "Mr. Ratio's genius?"
Well, that's not what you were saying, but it's a part of the topic. "Yes, genius. Veritas is intelligent, of course. Speaking of genius, did the Genius Society send anything?"
Margaret's reaction to your question is strange. She freezes, chicken wrap just hovering in front of her mouth. Your inquisitive gaze snaps her out of her reverie, and when getting her bearings, she's avoiding your eyes. "Nothing... yet, of course. I've been watching the mail for a week already."
A week? The Genius Society's correspondence normally would not take so long. "Is there anything else in the mail?"
"No, not really," she nods her head.
Huh? The disconnect between her body language and words makes no sense at all. However, the soft smile on Margaret's lips takes the edge of the suspicion off. Why would she lie to your face, though? Unless something's happened, then...
You decide to say something else. "I see... perhaps there's some issue with the mailing system?"
"Maybe!" Margaret agrees too easily with you. Her voice went too high-pitched, smile exaggerated, then she changes the subject, "Have you eaten on the way here? It feels impolite to be the only one eating."
The sudden mention of manners has you laugh awkwardly. It's already strange enough she's avoiding a simple question like she is right now but the poor girl looks like she's about to burst with your incessant questioning of if there's anything in the mail .
Is it really so hard to answer?
"Yes, I did," you answer. Gesturing to her chicken wrap, you say, "So, go ahead and eat. It's alright."
When you turn your gaze away from her, it's as if Margaret breathes a sigh of relief. It's obvious even in the corner of your eye. For the three years she's been here, her knowledge on Veritas's projects would be better than yours. After all, it is something work related, and she deals with his correspondence to anyone on behalf of him.
If she's lying like this, then there must be a reason. A Veritas-shaped reason, indeed, because he's got a bad habit of concealing things when it comes to something.
Letting Margaret be, you take a seat on one of the chairs meant for guests. Veritas's office is a spacious one, with a small reception area for visitors to wait on him. The door to his office is by the left, the entrance to this space on the right, and Margaret's desk in the middle of the room with the lounge chairs lined up by the wall in front of her.
With this placement, it provides you a clear view of Veritas's door... and the light escaping below it.
He's here in his office and he didn't come out to greet you.
Several emotions rise up and simmer in you. Some of them are negative. Well. Most of them are, because the way alarm and concern starts to boil within you is too much.
You take a deep breath to sort your emotions first. Your feelings are negative, and worry takes the top of the list. There are some wisps of anger but it quickly melts into the emotion up top and you slowly realise that Veritas has not messaged you even once starting... 1700 system hours ago.
With your phone now in hand, you shoot him a message.
It's something to the effect of asking where he is. The loud ding! of his own phone seeps out of his office room, out into the reception, and into Margaret and yours' ears.
Guilt colours Margaret's face vibrantly.
"I can explain," she begins as you stand up, making your way to his office. Poor girl, she's been shocked out of savouring the chicken wrap you've bought. "He's— he needs some time to himself..."
It's something other than needing time to himself, you know it, you know .
You give her a rueful smile, "Is that why you told me there's no mail?"
Margaret... falls short on an answer. The diverting of her eyes to the floor tells you everything. The successful test-firing of that anti-planetary weapon was done a few weeks ago, and everyone in the know was scrambling to cover it. It was Veritas, after all, and his name—like every genius—is known across the star systems. It'd make no sense there was no mail, no nothing , to be sent to him.
You only hold on to that tiny, little hope that you're wrong and Veritas is too caught on rejoicing to have noticed your arrival.
Only a look of understanding could be given to her. To scream, to yell, to let everything burst on Margaret is counter-productive. Maybe, if you asked, she'd say that she was merely doing what she, as an academic assistant, should do.
(If it was some other situation, you'd say—to his face—that you were right about Margaret. You'd say to him she's the best academic assistant he's ever had.)
You barely spare Margaret any glance before opening the door to his office. Thousands of thoughts trickle into your brain now, ranging from is he okay? to I hope nothing's bad happened.
Every moment of you turning the knob to open feels like in slow motion. Your heart is racing, just every inkling sending you in a worry-filled tizzy, and you feel nearly paralyzed in the spot where you are right now.
You open the door, and pity and fear and just everything drops a cold bucket over you.
Veritas sits on the chair by his desk, a crumpled letter on the wood and his headpiece discarded somewhere off to the side.
You're sure he's heard you coming in.
"Veritas?"
He absentmindedly says, "You may enter."
Veritas's voice doesn't have the usual lilt it has. It does not carry around the room, nor does it have its self-assured cadence that comes from being a genius. He stares at the scenery outside his office window, as if too entranced with the way light leaves the sky to make way for the moon. The moon that merely borrows its lumination from the sun.
The door locks behind you with a click that seems to echo in the dreadfully silent office. Now, only your footsteps make noise while approaching him. You move like you're holding your breath, not wanting to startle an animal that's already on its last legs.
But it's Veritas. He's not some lowly animal, though you know his heart to be softer than anyone else would presume.
Leaned over him, you bring his face into your hands. He lets you so readily, not once making any smart comment about handling him like porcelain.
(You received such a comment, once, when doing so the first time. Before Margaret, it was you. It was so long ago you don't recall, but Veritas had turned to you for help in handling his interactions with the "outside world", he'd call it, and this time, he was busy with a project. Some prototype he'd been originally commissioned to make, though, without any second thoughts, turned down any offer of payment and instead asked that his name be "spread across the cosmos". You originally blanched at the credits the ruler of the planet was willing to drop for Veritas's involvement in their planet-wide security, but he easily brushed your surprise off. At that moment, you were sure that, to him, it was another day of putting his gifts to use. Another day of using his intelligence to aid in the prosperity of civilizations, as if it was nothing to boast about. "Do I seem to evoke some child-like energy to hold me like this?" Veritas questioned, a quizzical brow arched. There was nothing in his tone that suggested he disliked it to the point of abhorrence. If anything, he looked— curious as to why you'd hold him like this. Instead of answering that silent question, you cooed, "Oh, yes. A little baby, indeed! You're so adorable—" "That's enough," he interrupted. You couldn't help but laugh at his disgusted face. "While I appreciate the gesture, I ask you continue sorting through the letters that came through the mail if you are wasting your time like this." "You call this wasted time? I'm suddenly not allowed to hold my handsome boy like this." Veritas's eyes narrowed. "Cease calling me a 'handsome boy', and I will consider this time to be not of the 'wasted' sort." So, he didn't hate it then. You smiled. "You like it then, Veritas?" He fell silent, you recall. His eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, it seemed like he'd say no. Then Veritas turned his head, kissed your palm, and murmured, "If it's you... then, yes.")
You wonder if he can outright acknowledge it's you who's holding him this way. He seems so out of it that what gnaws at you says no, but you try. You try for him. "Veritas?" You say, again, redirecting his attention to you. His eyes follow his head's movement, but it drags, and it's like it's taking everything out of him to begin looking at you.
Faint recognition appears on his face, and his voice softens too much, unlike the usual way he addresses you, "...My apologies for not greeting you when you came. I was absorbed in my readings of a letter the IPC sent me. An invitation of some sorts..."
When you see his eyes, the world falls silent.
Oh, Aeons, his eyes. Its lost its sheen and barely looks like he's there at all.
Your heart aches. So, that's it, then.
"What did they invite you to, love?" You ask, caressing his cheeks.
Veritas breathes as if it takes so much out of him to say, “The Intelligentsia Guild.”
“Ah,” You hum, willing the sadness away from your features. This moment is about Veritas, not you. “I see. You think I should reply to them, instead?”
The shake of Veritas’s head is slow. The hand he raises to envelop over yours is warm, yet you cannot find yourself to find comfort in it. “It is… better than nothing, love.”
The sight of Veritas blurs.
And, of course, out of everything, he notices you.
"You're crying," Veritas whispers softly. He reaches over and attempts to wipe away the tears streaming down, trying to soothe you. "Am I the cause of your tears? Then, I apologize. For... for being such a failure in front of you. Nous has not deemed me enough." You hadn't realized your eyes beginning to water; a single tear brought on a waterfall.
Aeons, you want to beat him ten times over. "You're not supposed to say sorry, Veritas. I'm... I'm only so worried about you."
Veritas meets eyes with you, and knows that it's not enough to cover the defeat. The disappointment surrounding his head like clouds, blurring every aspect of himself that he thought himself to be worthy of Nous' gaze.
He looks tired; an exhaustion that drills into his bones and something far beyond you. You think he's feeling the countless hours he's poured into that weapon, the surge of ambition and dedication used to fuel his drive, and the beginning of something chipping away at him and you don't know what.
(It scares you. It scares you because Veritas shoulders too many burdens he should have given to you to share.)
"You're the best scholar I’ve ever met, Veritas,“ You tell him, pushing past the tears that line your face. ”The smartest I’ve ever seen. Have you known your intelligence was the part of you that pulled me towards you? Your genius is unparalleled, my love. There is no one else I can think of if, ever, someone asks me about the most astute person I know.“
Does he think they are empty compliments? Because Veritas merely says, “Your words are better suited to a man whose Nous’ gaze fell upon him.”
You fall silent, defeated. What are you supposed to say? Are you to tell him that Nous does not matter, when his life is centered around knowledge? What is someone to do in this situation? What is comfort to a man who has been seared beyond recognition by an Aeon whom he worships?
“It is not hopeless,” Someone speaks, and you take a moment to recognize that it is you who has spoken. “Will you let an Aeon define who you are, Veritas?”
Veritas’s eyes slip close, and his forehead rests against yours. There is nothing but your soft sniffling, the steady breathing of your lover, and the persistent ticking of the clock in his office that sounds off. It is quiet and chilling, as if waiting for some bomb to tick off to end this moment once and for all.
His eyelids flutter, reddish-pink eyes peeking through—some brightness have returned, but not enough.
Veritas replies, “I… will try not to let them define me.”
To you, that is enough.
(You know than more that he will take this moment, and let it haunt him.)
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love-byers · 2 years
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it’s been a year, mike. (MAJOR BYLER REVELATION INCOMING---MUST READ)
mike and will constantly saying "a year" or "all year" when talking about the time since the move when it's only been six months keeps me up at night
i saw people talking about how they say a year when it was only 6 months because they’re idiots in love and are being dramatic. as cute as that is, i didn’t really buy it until RIGHT NOW. i just saw it as a cute headcanon, but now i see that the writers could be enabling you to make this realization by use of subtext.
allow me to explain
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^ these are the three times they say it
at first i thought the writers may have just used year because that’s less confusing for the audience because 1 year time jumps have been used before in stranger things and are super popular in books/movies/tv shows. BUT, it clicked for me that that doesn’t make sense. the timeline in stranger things has always been acknowledged. throughout s1 we hear the amount of time will has been missing several times (as far as i remember). in s2, mike counted the days el had been gone. he called her every night for 353 days. when el and hopper argue in s2, el uses specific numbers to tell us how long she’s really been with him. in s3 hopper specifically says ‘6 long months’ when talking about how long he’s been dealing with mike (lol). that's the same amount of time between s3 & s4, yet mike and will don't say 6 months, they say year. there’s a date at the start of every season. and in s4, el says this in her letter to mike. 
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185 days = 6 months (almost on the dot)
the writers have specifically told us how long it’s been since they moved, down to the amount of days. and it’s 6 months, not a year. this makes it very hard for me to write off mike and will saying ‘year’ as just the writers slipping up. also in el’s letter, she says this:
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this is INSANE. 
mike and will are saying the wrong amount of time. the writers aren’t stupid, they know how much time has passed since season 3. THEY WROTE IT. i’m a writer as well, and i know how much time is passing between what im writing because I CREATED IT. IT CAME FROM MY BRAIN. and like i said, the stranger things writers have proven to be very keen on dates and time. all of this happening in the same season is not a slip up, its on purpose. stranger things 4 had a 30 million dollar budget PER EPISODE. do the math--that’s 270 MILLION DOLLARS. and yes, i know they supposedly forgot will’s birthday, but that’s different. his birthday is a date that was mentioned one time and served no purpose aside from creating emotional tension in that one scene. none of their birthdays are important to the plot, hell, will’s is the only one mentioned in the show and it wasn’t even on his birthday. one date that was mentioned one time and never brought up again is NOT the same as continuous attention given to timelines/time jumps over the course of all four seasons. and some fans theorize that they’re lying about forgetting his birthday anyway. either way, its not the same.  
so....the writers want us to know that emotions can make time speed up or slow down....and that el’s week has felt very fast because of her emotions....and then show us mike and will SPECIFICALLY deviating from the timeline established in the SECOND LINE OF EPISODE ONE “yeah, but you knew she was having problems for months and didn’t tell me.” “its been six months, mike.”, or “it’s been months, mike.” or not even including that line at all, or “the past couple months have been weird” would’ve worked and stayed in check with the timeline we’ve already established. but when writing those scenes, they chose to say year. which is flat out wrong and way off from the actual time they’ve been apart. 
and what did el say makes time speed up or slow down? emotions? oh, okay got it 
the first two times mike and will say it’s been a year are in the same scene: the rink o mania fight. emotions are high. they’re in a pretty serious fight. its not about something dumb, it’s about their ten year friendship and how they’ve grown apart. their friendship is VERY important to both of them. (remember when mike said asking will to be his friend is the best thing he’s ever done?) the third time it’s said is when mike is opening up to will in episode 4. it’s a very emotional scene. mike is being honest and vulnerable with his feelings. in this conversation he apologizes and admits that will didn’t deserve how mike had been treating him, which mike never does to anyone else. he admits his relationship with will is different and home isn’t the same without him, and that he feels like he lost will and wants to be best friends again. 
and the obvious: emotions making time speed up or slow down doesn’t just apply to in the heat of the moment occasions. (in theory) mike and will are in love. the six months they’ve been separated felt like a year to them because of their emotions, just like el said in the letter. and mind you, will is canonically in love with mike, yet they’re both acting the same way about this. it’s not just will. it makes sense for six months to feel like a year to will because of his emotions, because he is in love with mike, right? well, mike feels the exact same way. this isnt even about the characters as people. narratively speaking, mike and will both doing this doesn’t make sense if it’s unrequited. one way writers show how characters aren’t on the same page about something, a relationship for instance, is whether they’re on the same emotional page about different plot points. something major and emotional happens to all the characters---now we watch how they react to it. and i don’t mean small disagreements & such, characters are allowed to feel differently about things. i mainly mean when whatever happened is painful and important to one or more of the characters. for example, steve and nancy. steve and nancy didn’t feel the same about barb, barb’s parents, and everything that happened in general. steve wanted to keep on like nothing happened while nancy was literally eaten up with grief, guilt, and trauma. jonathan was the one who was on the same page as her and made her feel better about carrying that baggage around all the time. they understood each other. and who was nancy in love with? jonathan. narratively, that makes perfect sense and even further sways the audience into understanding they’re in love.
so...what? the emotions that made mike and will’s six months apart feel like a year to them is....friendship? not a fucking chance. mike and el are a couple, and according to mileven fans, they’re the main couple of the show who are in love and are going to be an endgame couple. why save this incredibly romantic coded trope for will and mike, the best platonic bros? idk, you tell me. and the fact that the line about emotions came from someone in the love triangle?? and it was said to someone else in the love triangle?? not a coincidence.
edit: someone reblogged and pointed out how el said 185 in her letter to mike that we SEE him reading. there is no reason for him not to know how long it's been. so either he isn't paying attention to a damn thing el says in her letters or he is just extremely in love with will
another edit: i keep seeing reblogs of people saying they're probably referring to the time since mike and el started dating, which i used to think too. but the context when mike and will say a year makes it hard for me to believe.
"but you knew she was having trouble for like a year and you didn't tell me"
here mike is specifically talking about el's bullying problem which has only been going on since the byers have been gone and she enrolled in school. what he's talking about is something very strictly related to the time since they moved, and it's been six months, not a year.
"you called maybe a couple times. it's been a year, mike. meanwhile el has like a book of letters from you."
will is again, very specifically talking about something that strictly happened between the time since the byers left and the start of s4. he's saying how crazy it is that it's been a whole year and mike has barely called. but it hasn't been a year, it's only been six months.
"the last year has been weird, you know? and you know, max and lucas and dustin, they're great, they're great, it's just..it's hawkins it's not the same without you. and i feel like maybe i was worrying too much about el...i don't know maybe i feel like i lost you or something."
this one i will cut some slack, i think he could be talking about literally the last year, as in since the beginning of 1985. but immediately after he starts saying how home hasn't been the same without will (and separates his relationship with will as being different than his relationship with max dustin and lucas and even el), something specific to the time since they byers have been gone, six months, not a year:
in conclusion: mike and will referring to their time apart as a year when it’s only been six months is not a mishap on the writer’s part. they go out of their way to make sure you know exactly how much time has passed, down to the number of days, and they put this much attention on time in every season. and in the same season mike and will do this, there is a line in the SECOND LINE OF THE OPENING SCENE OF THE SEASON about emotions making time go by faster or slower.
byler is going to be a s5 surprise, but its not coming out of nowhere. there’s piles of subtext in every single season---enough that when you look back, it all makes sense. small details like this aren’t outlandish because this is without a doubt the length writers will go to keep something hidden, and in byler’s case and many other tv show plots case, to keep something a surprise. and for christ’s sake, WATCH THE SHOW! the amount of attention to even the TINIEST details in stranger things is insane. they put so much thought into everything---not just ships, and not just byler. idk how many times the writers are going to have to say details matter and that there are no coincidences until people believe them. 
anyways, byler is endgame. thanks for reading :) 
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luvrxbunny · 8 months
Text
sleek
Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader
Prompt: Car Sex
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, f!oral sex, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)
WC: 2.7k
A/N: pretty sure the truck was Tommy’s but we’ll pretend it was Joel’s
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You and Joel were on a supply run, nothing you haven’t done a million times before. You guys were wandering around, looking for anything you could find when you heard him let out a sharp gasp. You grip your gun reflexively and start looking around for whatever he saw, but you find nothing. 
“Aww look at this!” He’s admiring a bloody, muddy, beat-down truck. He’s crouching, groaning at his knees when he stands back up to circle the truck. “Wow…” He actually sounds in awe… you don't get it.
“Joel, that truck is in horrible condition.” You deadpan. He turns to you with a childlike glee in his eyes. “No! Don’t say that! She’s jus’ a fixer upper that’s all.” He pats her hood with a smile. “Looks just like my old truck, from before… Of course, mine was cleaner… yeah.”
He runs his finger through the coat of dirt with a sad sigh. “I kept her so nice, so clean.” He glances over at you with a shy smile. “I woulda taken you to a real nice place in her, make it a long drive jus’ to show off for ya’.” It warms your heart, the softness of his fantasy, the domesticity of it.  
“Yeah? I’d be so impressed too.” You make your way over to him, admiring the truck a bit. “I used to love a guy with a truck, especially those ones that need a step to get in.”
You see excitement fly over his face as he holds a finger up to you and rushes to the side of the car, opens the passenger side door, and showcases the step at the bottom of the doorway. “See! You woulda been so impressed.” He sounds a bit deflated at the lost opportunity, you try and indulge him. 
“Where would you take me?” The light returns to his eyes when he turns to you. “Where’d ya’ wanna go?” He stands quickly and rushes to stand in front of you, to watch you answer as though he really needed to know. “Uh- I think I’d love to go to a drive-in theater… especially with a truck!” His smile is wider than you’ve seen in a while.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’d get some blankets, and make the back all nice and comfortable for ya’. You’d be so impressed with me, baby, I swear.” This felt like it was bordering on self depreciation talk and you wouldn’t have it. “Joel. I’m already impressed with how well our date nights go. We’re living on a commune in the apocalypse yet I still feel like the most important thing when I’m with you. That’s the most important thing to me.”
His eyes meet yours sadly. “I have more charm with the truck though.” He has a shy smile on his face as he says it, embarrassed at how true he believes it is. You laugh at his claim. “Sure, Joel. The only appeal this truck has to me… is that there are more places to fuck you in. Other than that, it doesn't serve much purpose.” You watch his face contort in shock for a moment before turning slightly pink. You giggle at his reaction and tell him you guys have to get a move on. 
You’ve taken a few steps when you realize you don’t hear him behind you. You look around and don’t see him at first, then you notice he’s gotten in the truck. 
His obsession is gonna get us stuck out here after sundown. 
You shake your head and make your way back to the truck, his jacket is off, and his back is turned to you. “Joel, what are you doing? You can’t fix the truck” He turns to you and his face is still red, his chest is lightly heaving and there’s a bulge in his pants. “No, but I can still fuck you in it.” 
You look down at the seat to see he’s laid his jacket out for you, so sure that you’re going to let him fuck you in this fake copy of his old truck. He’s right. 
You smile and he reaches his hand out for you to take as you climb in. He watches you press yourself up from the step and almost fall into him. He catches you with a chuckle and your lips are already pressing into his. He groans against your lips at your desperation, at the way you’re already trying to lick into his mouth, repositioning yourself so you can try and wiggle your way onto his lap. 
He smiles into the kiss, pulls your hips away from him, and starts sliding them down, letting you lean back against the seat cushions. He pulls your pants and underwear down to your knees before just diving in. His head buries itself between your legs before you can gasp at the cold air hitting your sensitive skin. 
His tongue is licking across anything he can reach, trying to taste every part of you. One of his hands pulls away from its painful grip on your thighs to unzip his pants. His cock is pressing painfully into the denim as you mewl above him, whining for more, for him to stop and just fuck you, you don’t even know what you want. Joel brings that hand up to lay across your waistline, pressing your hips down against the fabric of his jacket. 
You feel bad because you know you’re making a mess on it. You’re soaked by the way Joel was trying to drink you up, at the groans and grunts he’s letting out between your legs and the way his hips have started to slowly grind his aching cock against the seats. 
Your hips slowly begin to rock into his face, your hands come down to hold his head in place as you do. He groans your name into your pussy as you use him, riding his nose as his tongue tries to wiggle its way inside you. His eyes are shut in concentration but they shoot open to look at you when you start moaning his name. “Joel. C- Joel I’m close- so close, Joel. Joel-“ 
Your hushed voice comes out as a whimper as you try and warn him. Joel is lost in the way you say his name. The way you feel the need to have it on repeat as you cum, like it’s the only thought in your head. 
His hand comes down to palm his raging bulge, relieving some of the tension that’s been building as he fucks into the dirty seats. He’s pulsing for you, to get inside you, to fuck you in his this truck. 
His eyes close at the thought. In an alternate universe, Joel thinks you’d be softer. You’re already so sweet and sensitive for him but without the added sense of danger, Joel thinks you’d be a mess for him. Just melting all over whenever he touched you. 
He’d be more affectionate too, get you into that headspace that makes everything fuzzy. Keep caressing you until all you can do is cling to him and ramble deliriously about how good he makes you feel. He’d love to have the opportunity to take his time with you, bring you so high that you feel like you’ll never come down, and then throw you over the edge. 
“JOEL-“ His name comes out as a shouted gasp before you’re creaming all on his tongue. His eyes roll back behind his shut lids as he desperately tries to drink up all your juices. He’s relishing your taste, moaning praises to you from buried between your legs. He knows you can’t hear them but he means them so truthfully he doesn’t even need you to, he just can’t stop them from tumbling out of his mouth. 
You have to tug his hair to get him out, to stop him from. overstimulating you to the point of immobility. “Joel. S- You s-said you’d fuck me.” 
You’re whining for him, already begging for more and he is more than willing to give it to you. He’s already pushing himself off the ground, pulling his jeans down, and climbing over you with a smirk. You’re wearing a pout that’s reluctantly turning into a shy smile under his gaze. He helps you pull your pants completely off your legs before spreading you open. 
He has one leg over his shoulder and the other resting on his hip, his hands are clutching each ankle as he smiles down at you. “Wanna put me in, baby?” His accent makes the words slide out of his throat like honey, spilling from his lips like they’re the sweetest syrup. 
Your pussy is already squeezing down on nothing, begging him to stretch you. He chuckles at the whimper you let out before grabbing his thick cock and lining him with your entrance. You can feel his tip resting so far outside where your hole sits naturally and your heart begins to race. You can tell Joel is having the same thoughts by the way his gaze is focused on where you two are touching, where his tip is just leaking into your hole. His breaths are coming out in small pants and he’s trying to stop his hips from thrusting his cock inside you, pushing his way through. 
You wiggle your hips slowly, trying to ease him in. His tip slides in quicker than you expected, you flinch and moan at the sensation, winning a rare whine from Joel as his tip catches on your ever-constricting pussy. His hand has to leave one of your legs to push your hips down onto the seats, ensuring that you don’t take any more of him in. 
If you did, Joel thinks he’d blow his load instantly. 
Now you’re whining on his tip, begging him for more as he squeezes the base of his dick, trying to will his load to stay at bay. Your whines start to get a bit weaker, more watery and you start to sniff. Joel’s eyes snap to yours and see your face turned away from him with little steaks of water from wiped tears on your cheeks. He reaches for you immediately. 
“What? What’s wrong, honey? Does it hurt? Wan’ me t’take it out, baby? C’mon, talk to me.”
You turn to Joel and shake your head with a sad smile before trying to kiss him but he turns away to whisper in your ear. “Gotta tell me what’s wrong first, darlin’.”
He lets you cling to him, a hand still on your hip as you try to coax more of his cock into you, wiggling your hips and clenching rhythmically to try and convince him to push into you as you let it little sobs into his neck. “J- Just need you s- so bad J- Joel. I need it, need you.”
He swears his vision blurs for a moment. He’s heard you say this to him countless times and it turns him on, sure. But he’s always known you say it for that specific reason. 
This time, however, it feels like you really mean it. The way your body is crying- the way you’re literally crying for him. It’s all too much, it doesn’t feel real. He can’t believe the way he makes you feel so good, it’s all he wants; to make you feel good. His cock won’t stop pulsing inside you, he’s trying to calm down but your whines for him are almost too much. 
He starts thrusting into you, he doesn’t work his way up to the brutal pace he’s currently at. He started that way, fueled by the shout of his name from your lips. He hides himself in your neck and your hands come up to cradle his head against you, your hands digging into his soft hair as he ruts into you. “I’m not gonna last.” 
The words rush out of his mouth and you moan his name in response. Your pussy suffocates him, pulling him- forcing him closer to the edge. “I w- want it, Joel. Please cum inside me-” You gasp at your own words and Joel can feel his balls tightening at them. “Joel-” Your tone becomes frantic and you’re clawing at his shoulders, his neck and gripping his hair to pull his head from your neck. You’re staring at his face now, hands on either side, but his eyes are still closed. He’s still too close, he doesn’t want- he can’t risk cumming before you. He needs you to cum on him first, for you to moan his name in the way you only do when he’s got you shaking on his cock… but you’re whining at him to open his eyes, to look at you. You’re begging him. 
“Look at me when I cum, Joey. P-please. Joel-” You gasp out a moan and your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him in for a blind kiss. He can’t help but open for you, letting you lick into his mouth, trying to ignore the way his stomach burns at the taste of your tongue. He takes a shaky breath to calm himself and you’re moaning against his lips again. “I need it.” You’re breathless as you try not to cum, letting out breathy keens and high-pitched sighs of his name. He can feel you twitching on his cock, squeezing him for a moment before whining and trying your hardest not to. He can’t deny you any longer. His eyes open and meet your instantly. 
You pull his head to yours, desperately trying to fall into his eyes as your orgasm crashes over you, only waiting for Joel’s gaze to unleash it. Your mouth opens wider the tighter your pussy chokes his cock, you’re gazing right into his eyes as you cream all over his cock. 
He can’t. His breathing picks up as you stare into him, so lovingly. He starts panting, his breath fanning over your face until little whines and curses work their way out of his throat. His chest is heaving and his hips are slowly losing their rhythm. “I-inside, Joel. Wan’ it.” Your words slur together as your eyes roll back at the pulsing of his cock inside you. 
Your name is falling from his lips like a plea before he brings his body flush against yours. His hand comes behind your head to pull you up into a sitting position as he leans back onto his heels, still thrusting into you slowly. “‘M gonna gi-give it to you, baby. Gonna fill you-” Pleasure runs up his spine with a shudder and his eyes fall shut. 
“ ‘M cummin’, sweetheart.” The words are more whiny than you’ve ever heard him and he starts spilling into you. He’s grunting out sounds that vaguely resemble your name, working himself up into a whine as he continues to thrust into you. His brows furrow and his hips stutter to a stop but he’s still filling you, so you start to grind on him. His eyes shoot open with a ragged moan. “Can’t- It-” He struggles to get the words out as you swivel your hips on him, enticing his cock to let another round of cum spit into you. His eyebrows pull inward as you smile at him deliriously, letting an innocent giggle fall from your mouth. 
He moans your name against your lips, his hands on your lower back to hold you up as he finishes filling you. His entire body shudders with the last rope of cum that shoots into you, earning a pretty moan from your lips. “Fuck, Joel.”
He grunts into your neck, placing soft kisses there while he tries to calm down. You’re humming at each one and stroking the back of his head softly, resting your head on top of his. He’s letting shuddering sighs out against your skin as his cock softens inside you. He slowly pulls his head out from your neck, you leave your hand on the back of his head and give him a crooked, lazy smile that warms his heart. “Tha’ was so much, Joey.”
He groans at the pet name and smiles at you fondly. You’re whispering fucked out praises in his ear as he cleans you up and you cling to him the whole way home. 
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Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!
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gachagon · 24 days
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I watched the newest episode of The Amazing Digital Circus, and yeah I can already tell this is gonna be a great show. I think it manages to handle both its comedy and horror pretty well without one being less effective than the other.
The pilot was great, but I really like that episode 2 shows us a better picture of the characters than what we already thought about them. I think the most surprising character who's development was made really clear was Pomni.
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In the pilot she's naturally apathetic and also freaking out about everything, and the promo material with her included seems to follow that same track record, but here in this episode Pomni does what Ragatha's been trying to do with her the whole time! She consoles this cute little gummy gator guy about his own existence and stuff in a really mature way that we just haven't seen Pomni do before.
This episode is really about the fear of not belonging or having an impact on other people. The beginning nightmare sequence where Pomni imagines herself being abstracted versus the end with Kaufmo's funeral really shows that what she's most afraid of is that she ultimately won't have a place here at all, even if being there terrifies her.
I think Pomni has come to terms with the idea that she won't be able to leave or find an exit right away, but the fear of not fitting into her role as the Jester and doing the same song and dance for eternity eats away at her.
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The funeral is a really good coping skill for all of the people in the Circus (minus Jax who just didn't go to the funeral at all) because it eases the fear of not remembering any of the people you spent all that time with, but also eases the fear of being forgotten.
I can imagine the idea of Gummigoo not remembering Pomni but still being out there "Out of bounds" is sad, but unlike the people in the circus he can always come back and in a weird ironic twist always has a place in the world he's in. And even if he doesn't remember Pomni, she'll always remember him and that's the really important part.
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Also can I just say that I love this little crocodile/gator man T_T He showed up with such a silly concept but I think he really added a lot to the episode. It makes me wonder what would've happened if he really was allowed to stay in the circus despite not being real.
The episode has a lot of themes about being aware of your own mortality and why you're even alive and what purpose you serve. And in the end, for Gummi he was able to stomach the truth of his own existence with the help of Pomni, but he decided to just keep it a secret from everyone else up above.
After he gets "poofed" its safe to say he'll always still exist just not in the way Pomni saw him. And whenever Cain wants to use him for a future quest, he'll still have the same old memories of his friends and his "sick mom" who needs syrup, but the knowledge of Pomni and being Out of Bounds will not be there.
Is it better that he doesn't know what's out there? That his mother isn't actually real, and that he and everyone he knows is just 1's and 0's in a computer? Or is it better if he does know and is able to cope with that reality? Likewise, should Pomni really even worry about trying to leave this world she's been forcefully thrust into, or should she just go with the flow and accept her place as the Jester in the circus?
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Truly an "Ignorance is Bliss" kind of story. We already know from this episode alone that the one thing Jax craves is chaos but that's not because he's fallen in line with being a rabbit in the game or because he wants to leave.
I think Jax is an excellent parallel to Pomni in this episode. Where Pomni tries to peacefully cope with her place in the circus and possibly coexist with the world around her, Jax wants to do nothing but cause as much disruptions as possible. Jax has accepted long ago that he's not leaving, but instead of losing his mind over it he's just become an incredibly selfish person who only wants to take his entertainment from other people. He uses his veneer as the trickster rabbit to cause as much problems in their journey's as possible all so he himself won't go crazy.
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And even though in the end he's not there to witness what happens to the candy people, I think just having something new to think about is enough for him in a weird way. While Pomni struggles with feeling like she belongs, Jax has been there for a long time and his biggest struggle is "disappointment". It's being so mind numbingly bored that you forget yourself.
This is leading me to believe that what causes people to abstract isn't finding the exit or thinking about the exit, but that it's more personal than that. Abstraction seems to be when someone really truly breaks under the pressure of being in the circus itself. All of the members of the circus seem to cope with being in the circus in different ways. For Gangle it's drawing and art, for Ragatha it's throwing herself into all of the journey's and just immersing herself as an actual "ragdoll" who's going on quirky adventures, Pomni just potentially found her way of coping which could be trying to just help other people with their own baggage and being an ear to listen to, and Kinger has by all means lost his marbles so as long as he's not thinking about how hard it is being in the circus he's fine.
I think Zooble's is to just not go on the adventure's at all or maybe we just haven't seen how they cope yet. I'm guessing that Kaufmo didn't really have a coping skill, either that or it became too much and he abstracted. I think his obsession with finding an exit had something less to do with the exit itself making him go insane, and more about the possibility of him remembering something he wasn't supposed to.
He probably regained his memory in some way and that was what led him down the spiral into abstraction, looking for a way out in any way he could.
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stone-stars · 1 month
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Transcript:
Albin (Murph): Uh, Calliope, do you have a name? Emily: Uh, I think Calliope looks through her criminal [laughs] stack of fake passports with fake names and fake identities, but she's like, you know what? This is a chance to try on a hat that I once really wanted to wear. And I think she thinks back to TGI Skydays when she saw Freddy proposing to Addie. [The others laugh.] And she thought of like, how nice it must be to not have to find your own purpose because you can just make someone else your purpose. Albin: Oh, no. Caldwell: Aw? Emily: And she thinks back to Glenn. Albin: (desperately) No. Emily: And she said-- Callie (Emily): I would like to be… Glennifer-- Albin: [laughs] Oh no. No. Callie: --Skydays. [Caldwell laughs.] Calder (Jake): I… I hate it and like it at the same time. Albin: Okay so… I see… Sol (Caldwell): I mean it's got a real ring to it. Albin: Right… okay… Callie: Glennifer. Albin: Glennifer. Sol: Glennifer Skydays. Callie: Skydays. Albin: Skydays. And you spell that… just… Calder: But it's like in a strong, healthy, I don't need this anymore-- Albin: Like, okay, so it's a combination-- Callie: No no no. Absolutely not. Calder: Oh, okay. [Caldwell laughs.] Albin: So it's a combination-- Callie: It's like when you took-- it's like when you took the potion of fire breathing to see like, if you'd like it. Calder: Oh. Yeah. Right. Albin: Isn't Jennifer your therapist's name? Callie: [laughs] yes. Albin: So you've-- Callie: I've combined it. Albin: The source-- the source of your pain? Callie: Look, I have an erotic impulse towards both of them! [Emily laughs.] Albin: We're not gonna dig any deeper into that. Sol: Right. No. Calder: I did drink the fire breathing potion. I'm gonna stay out of your way. Albin: Tha-- very good, Glennifer. Sol? Caldwell: Um, Sol also thinks back to the TGI Skydays. [Emily laughs.] Albin: Why? Is there? We don't-- We don't have to. Caldwell: Uh, Sol's in full panic mode [Murph: Okay.] And like, he hears the word Skydays, thinks back, and very confidently with a shaky grin goes Sol: Potato… Skindersin? Albin: Yes! [Emily laughs.] Very good. Sol: Final answer. Calder: That is on the menu. Albin: Okay. Your name is… Potato. Sol: Tater to my friends! Albin: Tater to your friends. Calder: Alright, Tate! Callie: I'm only Glennifer. Albin: Only Glennifer. Full name. Callie: You can't-- if you collapse it, then you miss out half of myself. Albin: Calder, please! Sol: Bring us home. Jake: Calder thinks deeply about TGI Skydays. [Caldwell and Emily laugh.] Albin: Please. Calder. I beg of you. You're all gonna die. You're all going to die. Calder: I remember… when I spoke with the waiter about not being served. Albin: Okay? Calder: I clocked that his name was Doug. Albin: D-- okay. Well, that's a name! Yes, that's a normal name. Okay. Calder: It is a name. Alright. Doug. Albin: Doug? Calder: Doug DaVirgin. Albin: Doug-- [Caldwell and Emily laugh.] Okay. Like he's a virgin. Calder: That's right. Albin: Great. Okay. Sol: That's-- that's a little character work in there too. I like that! Calder: I just-- I project that onto Doug. Callie: I'm the heiress to the Skydays fortune-- Albin: Jesus. Callie: --and I'm married to Glen. Albin: So you took his name by adding it to your first name? Callie: As is the custom. Albin: Okay. Sol: And it's not really important to the mission but Tater does fuck a lot. Albin: (so, so tired) Okay. Sol: And it's fun because like, Doug's a virgin but Tater fucks a lot but we're still really good friends. Calder: We are! Yeah. Albin: Really good stuff everyone. Calder: Doug's a wingman. Sol: Yeah!
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ruinsofcrysis · 1 month
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Fall From Grace - Lucifer x Fallen Angel! Reader - Ch. 1 : The Fall
Summary : You fell from Heaven simply for showing compassion towards Demons. You felt as if you had nothing left worth fighting for. However, after being shown kindness from the residents of the hotel and Lucifer, you come to the realization that you have a new home to fight for—a new family to protect.
Ch. 2
I wanted to believe that this was all just a bad dream; something that could never actually happen to someone like me. All I ever wanted was to protect everyone; to do what was best for everyone. I tried to hold onto that belief until the very end. However, once my body hit the hard, cold ground I felt something entirely new; pain and betrayal. Is this the pain of a sinner? No… there had to be another reason, right? Perhaps I had a purpose to serve here?
“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” A soft, yet panicked voice entered my ears.
I opened my eyes and took notice of a girl with rosy cheeks peering down at me, worry evident on her face. My eyes widened, tears threatening to fall as I took notice of who the girl before me actually was.
“You’re,” I paused for a second, struggling to push myself into a sitting position, “Lucifer’s daughter, aren’t you?”
Earlier that morning.
“Emily?” I knocked on the girl’s door rather softly, feeling a bit nervous.“Are you in there?”
“Oooh, uhh yeah sure am!” she replied, her voice sounding cheerful, yet a bit off.
“Are you going to the meeting today?” I asked, nervously rubbing the side of my arm. “Sera said it was really important. She said all high ranking angels needed to be present.”
“Oh, no I don’t think so I’ve been pretty busy,” she replied hastily behind the door. “You know, being joyous and all that ahahaha.”
“Why haven’t you been answering my calls?” I asked rather bluntly, a pit forming in my stomach. “You don’t seem like you’ve been yourself lately. Actually, I haven’t even seen you at all lately. Are you okay?”
I hadn’t really spoken to Emily in over a month; which was weird since we were pretty close. It wasn’t like her to not share things with me, or for her to be distant. For the most part she was like an open book, always eager to share everything. She shared the good, the bad, and the in between. What on earth was she hiding?
“I’m doing just fine!” She spouted.
“Okay, um…” I paused, biting my lip, “Actually, I came here because I wanted to talk to you.”
“Now really isn’t a good time,” she said, her voice sounding surprisingly blunt.
“Emily, are you avoiding me?” I felt my stomach churn. Was there more of a reason as to why she had been avoiding me for so long? “Did I do something wrong?”
“Of course not!”
“Then can I please come in for just a few minutes?“ I asked. “I really need someone to talk to.”
“I….” She trailed off. “Yeah, but can you keep a secret?”
“Yeah, of course,” I replied, trying to hide the overwhelming curiosity that suddenly enveloped me. Normally, she isn’t hesitant to tell me something. I knew it must have been really important.
She opened the door, revealing a tall, snake-like angel standing next to her. She quickly shut the door behind me, putting a finger to her lips, signaling for me to keep my voice down.
“Hello,” I said, very confused. “Are you…Emily’s boyfriend?”
“No, I already have relations with another female…” the snake said, sounding slightly offended by my comment. “I think.”
“Sir Pentious is… a reformed sinner.” Emily stated. “He rose from Hell and made it to Heaven.”
“A reformed sinner?” I asked, excitement filling my voice. “Wow, I didn’t know such a thing was possible!”
“Haha, yeah,” Emily said, using her hand to signal me to calm down. “But Sera sees him as a threat, so he’s been under my protection.”
“But he was sent to heaven for a reason. I mean he passed judgment..” I replied, widening my eyes. “What reason does Sera have to question him? Isn’t this a wonderful thing that should be celebrated?” I shook my head in disbelief. “But Sera always looks out for her people…Isn’t he one of the souls to protect now? Isn’t more souls making it into Heaven a good thing?”
“I have a lot to tell you…” Emily said, earning a nervous laugh from the snake.
Emily then proceeded to explain what happened down in hell, and how Sir Pentious seemed to have been redeemed by protecting his friends. She then gave me all the details about the court trial that Lucifer’s daughter, Charlie had attended to try to convince heaven that sinners deserved a second chance. Though Sera and the others deemed that there wasn’t any proof that sinners could be redeemed, Sir Pentious blew her argument right out the window soon after the trial. He was the key to a better future for Heaven and Hell. However, after the sinners exterminated the angels instead, there would be further division between Heaven and Hell.
“I… had no idea about the exterminations,” I sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I feel…ashamed…” She said, sounding defeated. “I was looking for the right time to tell you after I found out, trying to come up with a solution before I dumped all this on you. Then a month went by and…I couldn’t think of a thing. I felt useless.”
“So, you didn’t know all along?”
“Of course not…” she paused for a moment. “You noticed that my smile wasn’t the same, didn’t you?”
“I did,” I said with a nod.
“I’m having a hard time believing in anyone, or anything after what happened,” Emily said, crossing her arms and looking away in shame.
“Emily…” I placed my hand upon her shoulder, causing her eyes to meet mine.
“His daughter was so kind and was fighting to protect her people. She gave up everything. Even though some of our people fell, they…” Emily stopped what she was about to say, shaking her head furiously. “I’m scared of falling, but how can I pretend like everything's okay when so many souls are suffering?”
I noticed the tears threatening to fall from her eyes, which broke my heart. Emily was such a kind, forgiving soul. Though I didn’t know all that much about what went on in hell, I knew a lot of them had done pretty bad things. However, they had every right to defend themselves during the extermination.
“It will be okay,” I replied softly. “You’ve spent so much time lifting everyone else up. You’re not alone. I’m here for you.”
“I-I am as well,”Sir Pentious said. “She’s protected me thus far, I’m willing to do the same. I also want to find a way to protect my friends down below.”
“We’ll all think of something together,” I said. “With us three together, surely we’ll find a way to make things better for everyone, including the sinners.”
“Y/N…”
Present
“That’s right,” she replied. “You’ve heard of the hotel, right?” Charlie asked, excitement filling her voice. “Well, the new hotel since the other one got destroyed and all that. Ahahaha..” She said, sounding a bit nervous.
“I have,” I replied bluntly, not really sure how to react in this situation.
I tried to get up, but found it a bit difficult lifting myself off the ground. I had fallen just moments before the girl appeared before me, so my body wasn’t in the best shape.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Charlie said, scrambling over to me without hesitation. “Here I was rambling all about my hotel when you’re hurt.” She threw me over her shoulder, supporting my weight and helping me to stand.
“It’s okay. Thank you,” I replied softly, my voice remaining dull. “Your hotel sounds nice..” I trailed off.
“Alright, then let’s go!” Charlie exclaimed.
My eyes widened a bit as the girl supporting my weight began to walk. I followed her lead quietly, quite sure she was taking me to the hotel she had been raving about. Who was I to complain? It wasn’t like someone like me had any idea where to go, or where to even start in a world like this.
She pulled me along with her through the streets of hell. I had never seen anything like it before. Red stained the streets, both from the hue of the sky and blood from sinners. Even though I had believed redemption was a good thing, never did I imagine that the sinners down here would be this violent. Tearing each other apart relentlessly as if it were a game or something. Despite everything, a smile remained upon her face as she dragged me along, talking to me about her hotel as if everything was great. How could someone like her remain so cheerful in a place like this?
Soon enough, the girl with rosy cheeks stopped in front of a large, tall building I assumed to be the hotel. Though it seemed rather dark compared to the structures I had seen in Heaven, it seemed much more tidy and welcoming than the buildings I had seen along this way. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad?
“Oh Okay!” Charlie exclaimed, pushing the front door open rather agressively. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” She threw her arms out, standing in front of me and showing off in the lobby of the building.
I looked around, noticing a bar up front, a lobby with furniture, and plenty of decorations adoring the walls. Though it seemed fixed up pretty well, the hotel seemed rather quiet and vacant. I raised an eyebrow, nervously brushing a strand of hair behind my ear as I forced a smile.
“Yeah, so most of our other guests are out right now” she said, her excitement dying down a bit. “Come on, I have a room you can move into right away. I’ll show you around, then you can get settled in.”
After Charlie showed me around the hotel, she introduced me to my room. Even though the girl seemed a bit dense, it appeared she picked up on the fact that I had become increasingly overwhelmed. She left me to get settled into my room, claiming that she had business to attend to. She seemed like a really bad liar.
It wasn't that I didn’t like the hotel or her; in fact I thought she was a very kind person, and I had believed that the hotel was a lovely idea when Emily had told me about it. However, I was still very confused about my situation. Why did I end up here?
I stumbled into the bathroom, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. I immediately went to turn on the faucet, then noticed that my hands looked different. I pulled my head up, immediately meeting my own eyes in the mirror. This was… me?
Even though my face remained relatively the same, I did have demonic features appear on my body. I took notice of horns, sharper teeth, and my pupils glowing red. I shook my head, tears falling from my eyes.
“This isn't me! I didn’t do anything wrong!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, my knees falling to the floor.
It wasn’t that I had forgotten what had happened to me; it was that until that very moment I was in denial. I tried to gaslight myself into believing that I had been sent here for another reason; that the home I had lived in my entire life hadn’t betrayed me over standing up for something I believe in.
Earlier
I stumbled into the meeting room, the other angels’ eyes immediately meeting my form. I tried to ignore the attention, making my way over to my seat quietly.
“Where’s Emily?” Sera asked, her gaze meeting mine.
“I tried to get her to come, that’s why I’m a bit late,” I laughed nervously. “But she said she couldn’t..”
“Well, thank you for trying,” Sera said. “However, if Emily doesn’t step up and continue her duties soon, we’re going to need a replacement. We have to keep heaven safe.”
“Sera, she–”
“Ahem,” Sera said, cutting me off. “Since most of you are present, we have important things to discuss. I’m sure you all have noticed that our numbers have gone down.”
I quieted down, my eyes wandering around the room. The other Angels whispered quietly at Sera’s words. I bit my lip nervously, hoping this wasn’t going where I thought it was.
“Hell has threatened Heaven and we must protect ourselves at all costs,” Sera said bluntly. “They killed Adam and many of our other residents. We cannot allow this to continue.”
Whispers flooded the room once again, all the Angels looking around rather frightened. My hands began to shake and I felt anger envelope me. I tried so hard to bite my tongue, but I just couldn’t. I didn’t care if this got me in trouble; this wasn’t right.
“Sera, that’s not the whole story,” I stated rather bluntly.“Did you tell them about the exterminations?”
“Y/N,” Sera scolded.
“Look, Heaven has been killing demons once a year for a long time,” I said, my eyes wandering around the room, taking notice of the Angels’ surprised expressions. “I know a lot of you probably already knew that.”
“Y/N, calm down,” Sera said. “This is no place for this. If you don’t stop you’re going to have to leave.”
“If you were in Hell and armies of Angels came down to kill you, would you not defend yourself?” I yelled across the room. “Would you just stand by and take it?” I pleaded, trying to get through to the other Angels. “Don’t you all see? War just brings nothing but pain between Heaven and Hell. We need to find a better way!”
“Y/N, if you don’t stop this now—”
“What? I’m going to fall or some shit?” I spat, slamming my hands on the table. “I don’t fucking care anymore!” I crossed my arms. “Heaven is supposed to be a place for peace, forgiveness, and kindness, but we’ve just become murderers—we’re like Demons ourselves!”
“Y/N, please stop,” Sera pleaded, holding out her arms.
“Heaven is a lie. Adam got exactly what he deserved,” I said. “I won’t believe any more lies, and neither should any of you.”
The Angels in attendance began bickering throughout the room. There were so many voices I could barely understand what they were saying. I looked towards Sera, giving her a pleading look. She turned away quietly, not saying a word.
“Sera, surely you’re not going to put up with this, are you?” Lute said, entering the meeting room.
My eyes wandered to the new attendant. Her gaze met mine, her eyes full of hatred.
“Lute, I thought you were in recovery,” Sera replied.
“We lost so many people trying to protect Heaven, including our leader,” Lute said. “Why should we take the side of Demons? They had their chance and look at what they’ve done.”
Lute signaled towards her arm, earning gasps from the other Angels. I bit my lip, my eyes becoming hazy. I couldn’t let her win them over like this.
“Sera, she—”
“She has betrayed us. She has no right to be here,” Lute cut me off. “Sera, you know what you have to do to protect Heaven.”
Present
I continued to sob into my hands, my knees on the floor. I had broken down—I couldn’t control myself. The anger I had previously felt had turned into sorrow. All of my hope, shattered into a million pieces. I tried to do the right thing, and look where it got me—Hell.
“Hey, hey are you okay?” I heard a soft voice in my ear, then I felt a hand lightly grip my shoulders.
I shook my head vigorously, afraid of showing my face. Surely I looked like a total, pathetic mess. I tried to pull away, but they wouldn’t budge. Then, I felt a pair of hands pull my hands away from my face. I lifted my head slowly, assuming I’d see Charlie, then I noticed that it wasn’t even her. Was I so out of it I didn’t notice?
“H-huh?” I sniffled, quickly wiping the tears from my eyes as I took notice of the man leaning in front of me.
“You’re the new resident, huh?” he asked. “Charlie told me not to disturb you right now, but I heard yelling so I let myself in…”
I stared for a moment, not really sure what to think. The man before me seemed rather kind hearted at a glance. Surely this wasn’t the man that was claimed to be the most hated being? However, the red markings on his cheeks made him unmistakable. Charlie was a spitting image of her father.
“You’re Lucifer?” I asked, shock evident within my voice as I continued to stare.
“Y-yeah, that’s me,” he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, seemingly a bit uncomfortable by my staring.
I quickly stood up, brushing myself off, turning my face in the other direction. It had just sunk in that I had broken down into a crying fit in front of the King of Hell; the most powerful Demon in Hell.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird, I’m just a bit overwhelmed is all,” I replied. “It’s been a long day.”
“Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?” he suddenly asked, standing up as well.
“W-what?” I looked towards him rather quickly, feeling a bit embarrassed and caught off guard.
“O-oh,” he replied, face palming. “See, I didn’t even mean it like that. That’s a um… a phrase, but what I meant was I get Heaven vibes from you, and I would know since I fell too and all that… oh and it hurt…haha…” He trailed off, laughing nervously.
“Ohh,” I laughed softly.
“Hey, laughing is better even if it’s at me I guess,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” I replied.
“Come on, Charlie and I can introduce you to the rest of the guests,” he held out a hand to me. “Though, I must warn you a few of them are pretty weird.”
“Hey um….” I started. “Is it okay…that I’m an Angel?”
“Darling, you aren’t the first or the second fallen Angel down here, or even in this hotel,” he said. “You’ll be just fine.”
Then, I reached out and took his hand.
At that moment I realized something—Hell wasn’t as bad as I had previously thought. Hell was full of some bad people, that was a certain fact, but not all of them were entirely bad—they had good in them. If Sir Pentious could be redeemed, surely Charlie’s plan could do some good. Maybe me falling from Heaven could lead to something good. Before I fell, I believed that I could help Emily come up with a plan to bring Heaven and Hell together, but maybe me being down here in direct contact with the hotel could help in the long run. Perhaps if I hold onto hope for just a bit longer, everything will be okay? Maybe it was fate that I fell from grace.
-----
Ch. 2
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firefirefruit · 6 months
Text
Steel in Her Veins, Prologue
Table of Contents | Next Chapter
Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro.
Synopsis:
Your name is Kozuki Raya, but no one calls you by that name anymore. Using the alias of Tenguyama Raya as advised by your grandfather, you are the descendant of the legendary swordsmith Kotetsu and a distant friend of the Shimotsuki clan.
Following in your ancestor’s footsteps, you dedicate your life to the mastery of sword crafting, wielding, and learning. With much of your life being taught by gramps Sukiyaki, you realise that the dormant power, ancient knowledge and ancestral secrets that thrum within your veins start to play a very important role in the way the future world is shaped.
Meeting the Straw Hats was not written anywhere within your blueprints, but – most importantly - meeting Roronoa Zoro wasn’t supposed to change the trajectory of your life either.
Prologue
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"She's passed on, young man."
A weathered voice croaks out from behind one of the passing fruit stalls. The shadowed man lingers from the safety of his merchandise, the scorching sun missing only by a small inch from kissing his leathered skin.
Gritting his teeth, Zoro aimlessly turns around whilst sheathing the limping metal back to her home. Does anyone keep their fucking thoughts to themselves anymore? He mutters in his head.
“You really should let her go," the man eggs on with such a proud voice that it almost flows against the direction of the wind, against the grain of the public. As Zoro stands within the mingling market, with bundles of crowds gracing the pavements around him with their excited chatter, only but this old voice advances stronger than the rest, almost resting too clearly and proudly within the shell of Zoro’s ears.
Zoro kisses his teeth and whips his head at the direction of the sound again, finally being able to spot the silhouette to the voice - right there. The shadow with hands that slice through those blood red apples with an abnormally jagged knife. Zoro narrows his eye at the blurred figure, trying to figure it out.
“Tsch, fruit guy. Butt out, yeah?” He grumbles, shooting him a disdainful side eye. Crossing his arms in defiance, Zoro stays in his position like the good lap dog he seems to be turning into; if Luffy wasn’t so intent on him coming on this bloody island, he would’ve been able to rest. And to be able look at his poor, wounded sword in peace without dealing with so many wandering eyes.
In an instant, the old man cracks out in laughter, his voice bellowing out in clear tides. His shadowed arms grasp at his belly, a large-lipped smile peering out of his shelter. “Feisty one, I see…Is she special to you?”
The she in mention begins to hum weakly against the side of the green-head’s hip, whimpering and struggling, almost as if trying to reply. With an irritated twitch of his eyebrow, Zoro finally gives in to gape straight-on at the old geezer.
“It’s an it, not a she, dumbass. Swords have one purpose only; this one has simply served it,” Zoro snaps, straining his eyes even further to try to look at this peculiar man.
With a broken pang, the sword sheathed by his side begins to twinge again, but in an octane lower - and somehow, Zoro can feel it in his own core; he knows what the thrum of metal tugged across his leg is trying to say – the sword feels hurt by his own stupid words.
In a snap, Zoro's hand carefully rests over her head.
“Looks like you’re caressing her to me.”
“Shut up! Who even asked for your opinion?" Zoro growls, immediately yanking his hand away from his hip. The odd merchant simply guffaws in response.
Tsk. How dare he decide whether his sword was fit for battle or not?
“I’m not here to judge you, green-hair, but it simply looks to me that you have a bond with that scrap of metal. Come here.”
“I’m not in the mood, gramps. Go sell your damn apples to someone else.”
“I see. I suppose you would waste their time, anyway…”
Although Zoro’s ears are now perked by the ‘them’ in question, he keeps his eye shut tight and remains silent; he’s not going to give into this fraud’s tactics in getting a reaction from him. Hmph.
The merchant continues, quite obviously enjoying his jest with the bull-headed swordsman. “You know, that swordsmith. What was her name again…Penguyama? Tenguyummy? Tengushimmy…?”
Zoro stares at him blankly.
Clearly, this geezer is overestimating Zoro’s intelligence.
The small hints of names he’s throwing out is completely flying right past the swordman’s head, seeing how it seems like no one’s at home. Literally no light bulbs are screwed on properly up there. 
Another second passes where they both stare, bewildered by one another. The old, short man clears his throat.
“Pardon my language…But you seem quite dense.” 
“Fuck you! You’re the one who’s talking in riddles!”
“I. Help. You. With. Sword.” The merchant slowly enunciates, using his fingers to imitate the words coming out of his mouth. 
“Come.” He points obnoxiously with his finger at the incline into the hills. “Person. Makes. Swords…They. Help.” 
“Stop talking to me as if I’m slow!?”
“Pfft, you could’ve fooled me.” The merchant giggles like a child.
“Are you begging me to slice you in half?” Zoro shouts, childishly stomping towards the fruit stall.
But then, something very odd happens; as Zoro manages to look at gramps clearly for the first time, he freezes in his spot.
Indeed, it is a weathered old man leaning behind a stack of his precious fruits. With silver hair brushed across his shoulders, his unwavering smile greets the samurai with an odd sense of confidence.
But that isn’t what makes Zoro stop in his track, no, it’s what he says next. The next six words that comes out of the old man’s mouth…his awfully jagged knife limply resting over his knuckles, a knowing glint striking across his well-travelled eyes… all of it sounds self-assured.
“I’d like to see you try.”
Zoro doesn’t know what it is about this guy in front of him, but it just makes him stop. His mouth fails to open to retort something offensive – instead, he simply cocks his head to the side.
He doesn’t know whether it’s the knife that he’s masterfully twirling across the both of his hands, or if it’s the familiarity of his face – those eyes, hasn’t he seen the same ones before? – but something about him makes Zoro pause for a moment.
Gramps smiles wider, indenting his wrinkles further like ripples scattering across water, and rises one thick grey eyebrow at him.
“Now, then. Are we ready to go?”
The samurai kisses his teeth for the fifth time in a row and twists his head to the side in defeat. Subconsciously, his hand inches towards his broken sword - his untethered lifeline.
“Whoever they are, they better be worth it.”
Zoro didn’t know at the time of what was about to unfold, of what was about to be the trigger to a never-ending tale of perplexity and pain, but I can assure you that now, at this very moment, he would say that – indeed - she is worth it all.
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ghost-bison · 1 year
Text
SPOILERS AHEAD FOR THE TEEN WOLF MOVIE:
Ok so first of all, the Nogitsune's "divine move" didn't make any sense, wtf was that? They broke all the rules. You can't be a fox and a wolf
Then, there's the lousy excuse for Stiles and Lydia breaking up. The hell. I don't even ship them, but like NO. What, it was too hard to say that he was on an important FBI mission? Losers
Liam, Mason, Hikari, Jackson? What were yall doing here? What purpose did you serve my dudes? I freaking love Liam, and I was so excited for Hikari, and then they give us this. They barely even talked.
I was so confused during the entire movie, I didn't know whether or not Chris and Melissa were still a thing??
It wasn't explained properly enough that Malia was actually kind of Eli's aunt/cousin/sibling, like it took me a while to figure out he had grown up in her presence
Btw who tf is Eli's mom??? When they started mentioning Harris I was like oh we're probably gonna see Jennifer again right it's all linked, she came right before the Nogitsune it would make sense that she has something to do with his return and maybe she's also Eli's mom, like it was the most logical explanation if we think of the timeline but no, nope, Eli just doesn't have a mom!
Also what was Harris doing here? And the acting of the guy who plays him was weird (sorry to hate but not sorry it was really bad)
Allison coming back to stay just ruined her previous departure
They should have implied Thiam was a thing not give Liam a f*cking girlfriend
The way Allison came back was laughable
Why did they have to make Malia and Parrish a thing they interacted like twice
The random swearing every five minutes just because they could put it there smh
The way they explained Eli's reluctance to transforming being trauma and then Derek doing just the thing that traumatized Eli in order for him to transform and it working???
I'm so sad and disappointed we didn't see more Malia/Derek interactions it would have been f*king hilarious
Last but not least, Derek. Derek dying, after everything that he'd been through. After all the abuse and years of fighting. They pulled an Enzo St. John fr. Derek dying in the same way his entire family died. Burned alive. And the writers being like "Yeah but look it's okay he became a true alpha" IDGAF. HE PROBABLY DIDN'T GAF EITHER. MY DUDE WANTED TO LIVE. HE WANTED TO RAISE HIS KID. AND THEN HE DIES AND ALLISON AND SCOTT JUST KISS LOVINGLY LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED, LIKE ELI ISN'T CRYING ON THE GROUNG TRAUMATIZED AFTER WATCHING HIS FATHER BURN TO DEATH?!?! Also Malia was the one who had the most appropriate reaction like thank you for being the only one to be shocked and crying, queen. Your cousin deserved better
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ykiwrite · 1 year
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it doesn't matter
desc: jenna, manager, relationships, the holy trio
warnings: food? fluff?
9:32
"4 missed calls from jen"
"11 unread messages from jen"
flashed on your phone screen.
Ruffling your wet hair with a towel while checking the time showing you stayed for too long in that shower.
Standing still in the middle of the living room pondering over what could be so important remembering she's probably finished with the promotion of her latest show.
Dwelling on whether you should call or text back, settling down for typing a quick response. She'll be home soon either way.
Thumps so loud from the other room it could be heard over your hairdryer made you turn it off. Already blaming Jenna for it because who else would it be?
Just as you were to make yourself known, her head popped up from the edge of the doorway making you almost scream.
"Jennaaa, we talked about this. Can you not do that thing everytime you come home?" you cried out.
"Mmm, no?" smiling at you which made you roll eyes way too obviously on purpose.
"Alright, alright. I deeply apologize miss," giving you a fake apology while bowing down as if you were some majesty found in small bathroom of your miniature apartment. Very royal indeed.
Standing up again, she made her way to you still not out of her "work" clothes she left with this morning.
Her head instantly finds its way between your neck and shoulder out of a longtime habit. "I'm done in the bathroom, leaving it up to you. Also since i'm the best cook ever i made you pasta differently this time. I amaze myself sometimes."
"Thank you but..." you couldn't make out the rest of the sentence, only her silenced rambling since she was speaking to your neck rather than you.
"What? I can't hear you anything."
Moving her head out of your grasp to look at you while avoiding direct eye contact threw you off for a bit. "Can we maybe talk in the living room? I don't think bathroom is the best option," she said looking around it.
"Yeah, sure. You okay though?"
"Yeah, it's just about that promotion thing i told you about." answer making you a bit relieved as you both headed to the sacred meeting room (aka living room).
Taking your usual seat on the couch when suddenly TV became really interesting and ideal distraction from the fear building up by your girlfriend leaving with a cliffhanger. She is an actor, at the end of the day.
"Heavy snowfall expected tomorrow morning. For the next few days we've got wintery hazards all around the country. Be prepared-"
"Just like you ordered, snow it is," a well-known voice pulled you out of the staring competition with the sweet weather lady. Jenna, still putting on her hoodie reserved just for inside the home finally sat down.
"A bit of change in the midweek with less cold temperatures..."
"So?" as silence was too loud not even a lady could help your current state of mind.
"So straight to the point, as you know with me being an actor and all i was called over for a talk with manager and turns out we we're kind of spotted." Finally looking at you instead of the wooden floor in front.
"Spotted?"
"Remember your birthday last week?" giving her a nod to confirm she continued, "and that 2am trip to McDonald's' i had to drive you to because i just couldn't say no?"
"Even if we rearranged the whole cake?" How could you forget?
"'Course you remember. Someone got us on picture that night." Jenna dropped the words of the day you've been waiting for.
"It was empty though?" as far as your memory serves.
Jenna, taking her phone off the table, swiping through 'strictly business' chat to prove it left you with a bitter feeling. This is it. You heard way too many celebrity stories and gossip. Her managers most likely asked for immediate break up, cutting the ties off, all for sake of her career.
"Here," giving you a phone that showed it clearly. You dying at the table looking more in love with the food than Jenna, nonetheless obvious couple photo.
Sliding it down your shaking hand onto the table scared Jenna more than she'd like to admit. "Are you gonna do it? They told you, right?"
"What? I don't get it?" Jenna questioned and roles switched. She was now worried and you looked terrified.
"Come on, we all know how it goes. Manager probably told you to break it off with me," barely came out of you, one more second and you might cry.
"God, no? It's not-that's wasn't even mentioned. What are you on about?" said so quickly in attempt to comfort you asap while sliding closer to your defeated figure.
"It wasn't?"
"No, just listen. He asked me, to ask you if you'd be okay with revealing it." Taking your head into her chest did little of a job done.
"Like public?"
"Like public public."
"You want us to be public? You and me?" pointing with your finger between the free space you found yourselves in trying to convince yourself it's real. "Yes, why is it a surprise? Obviously i do but do you?"
Might as well take this as a proposal. "Yes-of course, i thought it's over with us." Swiping your nonexistent sweat of off your head.
"You really think i'd get rid of you this easily?" pulling you to lay on top her as you allowed for your whole existence to be wrapped around the person underneath.
Putting your head up giving her an insecure look, "I don't know, i guess, it's just that-"
"Don't," was a whisper of hers that pulled you in a tender, careful yet passionate kiss like she's offering you all of her reasons why it will always be you.
notes: a quick one cuz mannn the grip ms. jenna got on me lately is crazy as you can see by my entire profile *proceeds to watch 924th edit of her*
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howlingday · 1 month
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So what do you the story would have been like if Jaune got removed? Like he was never a character.
Alright...
If Jaune was never a character, then I would assume none of Team JNPR would be characters. Following the story, we have Team RWBY going to Beacon and making it to the end of initiation with only the Nevermore fight. Aura is never explained, and we move along to Jaunedice, where we have the bully arc of Velvet getting tormented by Cardin. Blake comments about how terrible it is and maybe Ruby tries to step in to help, only to get shoved away because Cardin is bigger. Ruby and Cardin get into a fight and maybe Cardin tries to blackmail Ruby. This is resolved either by her coming to her team or by her showing that she's leagues above Cardin as a huntress and threatens him to not bully anyone ever again. And then Volume 1 continues the same as it did in canon.
Overall... A pretty alright show, nothing stellar. However, I feel like people writing off Jaune as a "useless" character that serves no purpose miss out on some pretty important moments in the series, like ESTABLISHING AURA. And yeah, sure, you could wave it off as something that could have been explained with or by someone else, but Jaune is supposed to be the John Everyman character who's thrown into the series with barely any knowledge like the other members of the cast.
So yes, Jaune Arc is an important character.
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There's Such a Sad Love (Deep in Your Eyes) - Prologue
it's finally time, friends!! here is the first part to my ghost!eddie fic! I am planning on getting the first real chapter up tomorrow, and the rest as they are done! I'd like to have this done by halloween but we'll see if i continue to have the spoons for this story thanks for reading! 🙌🥰👻
pairing: steddie | rated: M | on AO3
CWs for this chapter include: mentions of suicide/ideations as part of chrissy's backstory, and depictions of violence but nothing graphic!
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He’s spoken with her a lot since he died, the Moon.
She’s lovely, beautiful, bright, and loves her monsters (Eddie still doesn’t quite know what that means, are monsters real? …Well…he is a ghost now…).
She was the first one he cried to when he realized what had happened to him, why it did.
Chrissy was his better half, his soulmate, his sister, his best friend.
He’d found her afterwards, his first thought being how could he have not known? He could understand anyone else not knowing, not knowing her like he did, but even he didn’t know.
He’d found her letter just as her boyfriend found him.
Eddie replays his last few minutes on the mortal plane over and over again in his head in the years afterwards, starting with the front door to his trailer being blown open in the wake of Jason Carver’s entrance…
“Carver! Jason, I–I’m so sorry…”
“What’d you do to her, freak?”
“What? Nothing! I’d never—I just found her letter—”
He can remember that he was hit in that moment, struck across the face lightning fast, but he can no longer remember the pain.
Probably a good thing too, for what was to come. 
“Oh yeah, sure, like anyone’s going to believe that.”
Another hit.
Another.
Another.
Over and over again until eventually, Eddie’s memory goes sideways; his sight is blurry, but clear enough to tell he was now on the floor.
He’s faced towards Jason’s legs, watches as they shuffle and bend to pick up something.
Wait, Eddie was holding something earlier wasn’t he? Something important?
His vision starts fading out, still watching as Jason’s legs back away from him, then turn sharply to run out the open door.
Tired, Eddie succumbs to the darkness; his last thought being that Wayne was going to be the one to find them both.
“A tale as old as time, I suppose.” he had told the moon one night of the thousands he must’ve been through at this point, “Blame the Freak, right?”
Her words of love and encouragement normally helped soothe his soul, but there were some nights where he just couldn’t let the injustice go, it wasn’t fucking fair!
In the end, Jason got second degree murder. Eddie got a plain wooden box.
His uncle was left alone and heartbroken.
Jason only served a fraction of the time he was supposed to.
Eddie never graduated high school, never got out of this shitty town, never got the chance to make something of himself.
He had never fallen in love.
Now, he was stuck in limbo. Stuck haunting the empty trailer (he doesn’t blame Wayne for leaving), then the empty plot where it’d had once been, and now he’s the new Forest Hills Estate’s resident poltergeist.
Admittedly, kinda metal. When he was alive, he might’ve thought it’d be badass to one of the tortured souls he used to enjoy reading about.
Now it’s just torturous. 
It’s been 38 years of hell.
Three of people breaking in and stealing mementos of the trailer ‘that poor girl’ died in.
They didn’t even say her name.
Ten of watching his home crumble around him before eventually getting torn down on purpose, to try and rid Hawkins of ‘that boy what did her in’.
They don’t dare say his name.
15 of watching the whole trailer park fall to disrepair; everyone else leaves, saying they hear sobs carried on the wind at night.
In 2001, the land the Forest Hills trailer park was on is sold off and construction starts.
Eddie laughs with the Moon when he sees walls start to go up around him, a moment of sardonic reprieve.
“Is the town’s memory that short? Don’t they know this is where it all happened?” he asks her, but she was just glad he’d have a roof over his head again.
Joke’s on him, though, it wasn’t the town that built there, it was some private company that didn’t know the history. The town knew. They remembered. And no one bought the place (even with as large and lovely as the home was).
In the 23 years it was left standing empty, he’d had loads of fun messing with the teens who’d come around every fall. Daring each other to just go up to the door, to ring the bell, even to just step up the first step. 
Sometimes they managed to get in, and those were the best times, especially on Halloween.
Eddie found himself corporeal every October 31st. Some years he’d just answer the door nonchalantly when someone knocked, knowing full well his bruised and bloody appearance really added to the effect.
Some years they’d come the day before, and those were the best. He wasn’t fully “a person” again yet, just a solid black shadow. 
His power grows in the months leading up to the 31st, and he uses the extra juice to scream and wail, to throw shit around…it adds to the story a bit, though he’s realized in the last few years that the kids who come around looking for thrills don’t even know what he and Chrissy went through.
The first time he’d heard that, he’d nearly thrown a couple kids out a second story window in his rage.
Finally, one day in late winter while wandering the grounds, testing the limits of his haunting range as if they’d suddenly expanded out any farther overnight, he sees the bright red SOLD sign at the end of the driveway.
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