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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 6 months

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Please let Astarion meet Tav's family and have a younger sibling like 6 be like im gonna marry the prince points at Astarion.

Tav : Sorry, im married to the prince

NO IM GONNA MARRY THE PRINCE

That's so fucking cute kill me. But I just realized AFTER I finished it I read this wrong 😭😭 I read it as "marry" instead of "married" so whoops now it's an asking for your hand in marriage fic.

Also, I'm going to make this a weird little, unofficial, alternate reality, off shoot of this fic to explain away why Astarion can be in the sun without ascending because I am ~lazy~

Quick summary if you didn't read it, Tav serves Selune, gets a blessing for all the good work, and uses it to cure the anti-light issue of the vampirism (but not all of it). It's not a literal extension of that fic but I'm stealing my own plot explanations. That's it! Now here we go:

Astarion wasn't nervous per se. He was just... on edge. And the two-week journey it took to get here wasn't helping things, not when it gave him so much time to ruminate in his thoughts. He never expected to be in the position of "meeting the family," let alone in anticipation for asking for someone's hand in marriage.

Astarion wasn't even quite sure how his life got here. He had always fantasized that a life without Cazador would be one of selfish hedonism, not one where he would be legitimately concerned about a damn six year old sibling's first impression of him.

But then you came along, effortlessly shattering all of his grandiose plans with a batt of your eyelashes. Perhaps the entire journey of falling in love was more complicated, but it felt like it was that simple. In hindsight, he never stood a chance against you, but it was hilarious that there was a time he ever thought he did.

All of his prior dreams and fantasies felt like nothing in comparison to just being with you. It had been a year since you both saved the Sword Coast, a beautiful, fantastic year. That had ended with him somehow more in love with you now than when he first confessed. Selune's blessing had certainly helped with that he was sure. He still couldn't quite believe that you would use a god's blessing on him of all people, but gods, was he appreciative. Because being able to walk in the sun again meant that he could live the life he wanted, with no restrictions. He could be the partner you deserved, the kind that a father would happily say yes to when asking for your hand.

Which brought him back to his current dilemma. Perhaps he hadn't seen any of your family members in the time you'd been together, but he had heard plenty. You loved them all to death, especially your little sister. You wrote to them constantly, the mere sight of a letter from your parents enough to put you in a great mood for the rest of the day. He was aware that your mother was supposedly a saint, a fact that your own father had instilled in you often. He knew that they had a wonderful, loving marriage and were both higher ups in the Church of Selune. A fact that Astarion didn't particularly enjoy.

As grateful to the moon goddess as he was, he was aware that you were an expectation to the very normal belief that vampires were bad. And that marrying one was one of the stupidest things you could ever do from an average person's perspective, let alone a Selunite.

Why you hadn't done the smart thing and lied about what he was, Astarion would never know. But he did know that the thought of their rejection over his admittedly sordid history was putting him in a tailspin.

"They're going to love you," You said for the hundredth time, giving his hand a squeeze as you led him up the steps to your childhood home, "You have nothing to worry about sweetheart. I promise."

Astarion highly doubted that, but you were already knocking on the front door before he had a chance to argue. The door instantly slammed open, a beaming child already launching themselves at you before Astarion could process what was happening.

But you were more prepared them he was. You effortlessly caught them in your arms, laughing at their excited shouting, "Titi! You're late!"

So this was the famous Arabeth.

"No, I'm not!" You laughed as you settled her on your hip, "And what happened to my little girl's manners huh? You haven't even introduced yourself yet."

The child glanced over at him, like she was just realizing for the first time that someone else was standing over there. She looked a little shocked at the sight of him, staring at him with wide eyes. Wide enough for Astarion to start to wonder if something was on his face.

He gave her a little wave only for her to bury her face into your shoulder, peeking out at him with her lips pursed. Which was not the best start to the whole making his darling's family actually like him plan.

"Well, as you've probably guessed this is Arabeth. She's just a little shy," You reassured as you stepped inside, muttering a quick invitation inside under your breath. He appreciated that, he didn't need the whole house to be reminded of his... limitations.

"But she'll get over it soon enough," You continued as you called into the house, "Mom? Dad? We're here!"

And just like that they were rushing into the room, acting just as excited as your sister had been. Your mother wasted no time in smothering your face with kisses while your father swept you up into a hug. It was a rather impressive display of coordination, considering how they hadn't managed to knock you and your sister to the floor in the process. Astarion was pretty sure they were both saying something along the lines of We missed you! But it was hard to tell with all of you so tangled up in each other.

It was heartwarming to see, in all honestly. Of course such a loving person would come from an equally loving family, what else would he expect?

Though he certainly hadn't been expecting for your mother to throw her arms around him next. She brought him into a tight hug before looking him up and down, "So you're Astarion huh?"

She turned back to you, grinning ear to ear with her hands set on Astarion's shoulders, "He's so handsome! Selune help us, do you remember the last boy you brought home? He had a nose the length of my arm-"

"And that's enough of that," You said with a strained laugh, pulling your eccentric mother back a few inches, "And we've talked about the impromptu hugs. What happened to asking for permission?"

"Sorry, sorry!" She said with a wave of her hand, "Let me try again. I'm Seliras, and this is my husband-"

"Marcoul," Your father interrupted, putting his hand out for Astarion to shake, "It's been awhile since we've met a boyfriend."

"He's a little more than that," You said with a sigh as everyone exchanged pleasantries.

"We'll be the judge of that," Marcoul said with a sharp but friendly grin, the grip he had on Astarion's hand briefly tightening before he let go, "From what we've heard, you're quite the character aren't you?"

Ah, so the interrogating was starting early then. It was nothing that Astarion hadn't expected. Besides, turning up the charm was his strong suit, even when he was uncharacteristically nervous.

Astarion smiled back at him, "You've heard right. And I'm more than happy to answer any questions you might have."

"Oh gods please don't say that," You groaned, but it was too late. Your parents were already leading him to sit, rapid-fire questions coming out of their mouth.

Where are you from? How did you meet? Are you serious about our Tav? What's your religion? Where's your family? What are your plans?

But Astarion answered them all, with only mild censorship for the child's sake. The child who suddenly couldn't stop staring at him. It wasn't exactly easy to sell himself as a future husband when he was a vampiric ex-slave, but he made do.

It was an overwhelming experience to say the least, but not necessarily an unpleasant one. That was one good thing about trying to marry into a family of zealots, it was a lot easier to convince them of your virtue when you received a personal blessing from their goddess.

By the end of the night, they were all throughly appeased, enough so to get off the topic of him for a moment.

"You look a little young to have a thirty-year old child," Astarion said to your mother. He was actively trying to compliment her for obvious reasons, but he was also genuinely curious. She barely looked a day over 40.

"Oh we breed young," She said with a laugh, "We had Tav in our teenage years. Arabeth came much, much later. Our favorite little surprise. Gods, I can't think of a single person in our family who didn't have kids young. Our little Tav is the only exception to the rule."

"But maybe not for much longer, huh?" Marcoul added with a grin, yelping when you lightly smacked him over the head for the comment.

"Do not start the kid talk again!" You hissed out, cheeks red, "We've talked about this!"

Astarion couldn't help but grin at your reaction, charmed by your embarrassment. Though... the idea of the two of you having children together sure was an interesting thought.

Astarion felt a tug on his sleeve while you were distracted arguing with your parents. He turned, smiling when he saw your little sister standing there, still staring at him with wide-eyes.

She took a deep breath before blurting out, "You look like a prince. Are you?"

"Not exactly," Astarion said with a small laugh. That couldn't be further from the truth, "There's no blue blood in my veins."

She frowned, cocking her head at him like he wasn't making any sense. But then an idea obviously struck her as she excitedly asked, "But if you married a princess, then you'd become a prince too. Right?"

"I suppose?" Astarion answered with a shrug.

"So if I become a princess, and I marry you, then you'll be a prince?"

This conversation was quickly becoming out of his depth. But luckily enough for him you were swooping in to save him.

You laughed at her question, turning your attention back to the two of them, "No offense Bethy, but I'm going to be the one marrying this particular prince."

But Arabeth wasn't having it. She crossed her arms, looking at you like she was the one talking to a child, "You can't. Because if I don't marry him, he won't be a prince. So there. I have to do it."

She looked so serious, her facial expressions incredibly similar to your own. Astarion was holding back a loud laugh as you tried and failed to reason with her, "I can marry him without the royal status-"

"No! I'm marrying the prince!"

Your parents were doing a much worse job at hiding their reactions, both of them opening giggling behind their hands as you came up with a compromise.

"Okay, okay," You said with a sigh, kneeling down to look the small girl in the eye, "How about this? I marry him first. But only until you become a princess. Then he's all yours. Sound fair?"

She thought about it for a moment before nodding to herself, "Sounds fair."

Well Astarion wasn't going to get a better set-up then that. He turned to your father, his nerves coming back for a brief appearance, "I'm assuming now might be a good time to ask what I came here to ask. Though I do promise I only intending on asking for one of your children's hand in marriage."

Marcoul nodded slowly, his face unreadable as he spoke, "I mean no offense when I say this Astarion, but you aren't exactly who I imagined for my daughter."

"Dad don't-"

"Darling, let him finish," Astarion gently interrupted, his eyes still locked with your father's.

He took a deep breathe before continuing, "That said, I've never seen her so... herself with someone else before. So yes. The two of you can marry. On one condition."

"Anything," Astarion said instantly, nearly giddy at the fact that he was so close to the official yes, "Just name it."

"You have to have the wedding here," Seliras answered for him, a massive smile on her face, "No ifs, ands, or buts."

"And I get to be flower girl!" Arabeth chimed in, her past indignation completely forgotten as she climbed all over you, "And there has to be chocolate cake!"

"Oh gods, help us," You groaned, but Astarion was already nodding along. He couldn't give less than two shits where it happened or who was involved. He could scarcely believe that it was happening at all. But that was the last thing he had needed.

He already had the ring, the most amazing person he could ever fathom being with. Who actually wanted him back.

Now all he had to do was ask.

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idontknowreallyidontcare · 5 months

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RANDOM COD HC’S FOR MY GIRLS.

- König it’s, how do I even describe him, like, nothing about your body disgusts him. Nothing. He will fuck you sweaty, he will fuck you clean, in a tent, in the middle of a forest, unwashed for who knows how long, at the base, he really doesn’t give a fuck, his love for you is really greater then some unexpected impossibility to be clean and perfect. He loves his little wife in each and every aspect of life <3

- König is dirty and he doesn’t give a fuck. He will eat your pussy, eat your ass, lick your thighs, bite, spit and kiss whatever and whenever he feels like. He’s just a man I guess, and he’ll moan and bitch about it! “Why not!! Please, I’ll eat your ass after if you let me fuck it! Please it’ll feel so good!” And he’ll ask and plead, knowing that you’re not giving it to him on purpose, you want him to either take it himself or just want to overwhelm and overstimulate him so much that he’ll literally ask you on his knees! Such evil little wife he found for himself! Give him your ass please :( he needs it! He wants to be dirty with it.

- König is getting old, his stamina is probably not near as high as it used to be, but he still manages, and if you’re particularly horny and he just can’t meet your needs, he’ll gladly let you use him as a human sex toy. He doesn’t care, ride him till he cries and begs no more, straddle his face and use it to get off until you’re satisfied! Bonus points if you stick a vibrating dildo inside, forcing him to lap at your clit till you cum on his face (forcing? He’s never forced, he’d live between your thighs if you’d let him). He is just a silly little man enjoying his wifey. (Ahem whore ahem)

- Y’all know who else is a whore? Yes, GHOST! Don’t let his mask fool you, don’t let his voice and his body language tell you otherwise, he whines and moans like a bitch the moment you get on top. He enjoys getting trashed around too! Slap him a bit, praise him but not too much, remind him he’s still a whore for letting his silly little wife treating him like this! He will only get harder tho, pleading you to treat him like a bad boy and teach him manners! Grab his chin and force him to look you in the eyes while you ride his cock, he’ll be done in 5 minutes, his cock overstimed and his balls EMPTY!

- Simon may love giving you control, mainly because he lives a live where he always needs to be in control, always aware and attentive, so he likes to be able to leave it all to you, not being the one in charge from time to time feels good, and he’s not scared about it, because he knows that his sweet wife will take care of him… but he does enjoy the power imbalance between you two. He will get hard thinking about you as a soldier, how he’d make you his favorite and use you whenever he feels like it. He’d have you prettily taking his cock from under his desk as he revises documents, or in his private bedroom where he’d eat your pussy and fuck your tits, making you all nice and dirty! He’d fuck you in the communal showers too! Full Nelson while you face the main door, the ecstasy and adrenaline coming from the fear of being seen making the experience lot more exiting. He actually brings you to the base, finds you a pretty uniform and keeps you with him for two weeks. You’re happy about spending time with your hubby, but by the time you both come back home, your pussy’s already sore and used! Poor Simon couldn’t pass upon this chance.

- Simon will use the rare opportunities you shower together to make you squirt. This man invested in the shower installation! You better believe he’s USING IT! He’ll play with your pussy, making you stand while he kneels between your legs, eating and biting your pretty clit, then turning the shower head on, regulating it on a particular pattern for the water to come out, and using it to stimulate your clit while he fingers your and kisses you pelvic area <3

- Listen Price enjoys his blowjobs/handjobs! He enjoys you all fucked up and crying on his cock, still not giving up because you want to pleasure him by all means! Such sweet pretty thing like you, you’d be on your knees for hours if it means making him feel good! He likes to reciprocate tho, that’s why 69 is his favorite and his to go position from when he just wants to savor your lips on his cock, but still wants you to feel good too.

- Price is innocent looking, his smile always sweet and bright, but having him home is always a challenge! He’ll grab, slap and manhandle you around whenever he wants to! Just to show you how easily he can take you everywhere he wants (all consensual ofc). He is for free use, something you agreed upon seeing how high your libidos were. He will rile you up, purposely getting you all wet and heated up, then he’d suddenly let you go and proceed with his tasks. Let’s just say that one day he got on your nerves with his teasing, touching you inappropriately and talking to you like you were a little slut (his slut!), then purposely leaving you there in the living room, horny and pathetic. You found him in the kitchen, completely laid on the floor, his upper body under the kitchen sink, checking the tube. You could not pass upon such rare chance, you get on top of him, and in 3 seconds his cock is out of his pants and pressing against your wet and hot entrance. He is confused for a bit and when you take him inside with one fast thrust, he can’t do anything but let you, he lets you fuck him like that, milking him dry while his torso and head are still under the fucking sink! He can’t even properly see you, just your pussy taking his cock and your tits bouncing! Tsk, he’s love to see your pretty face, all contorted in pleasure, well that’s his punishment for doing this to you I guess! All he had to do was be a good hubby and fuck you when he had the chance to :(

#cod x reader #cod #cod mwii #ghost cod #konig cod #konig smut #konig x reader smut #captain price #price x reader #ghost smut #price smut

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aurumacadicus · 3 months

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You know what would be funny lmao

Tony hadn't been entirely enthused when Steve had showed up after a run with puppy eyes and said, "Just until his owners contact us? He's part husky, someone must be looking for him." He wasn't a dog-person. He was barely a person-person. But he'd conceded, since the dog was staying a finite amount of time, and Steve had promised to bathe it before letting it roam the apartment, and the dog turned out to be house trained already. He even got JARVIS scanning local social media to find its owners. It wouldn't be for long.

And then JARVIS had found a picture and gently informed them that 'Dodger's family had been among the casualties during the alien invasion and while he kept getting adopted, he also kept getting returned, because he kept running away.

"Oh," Steve had said, choked up, and Tony had miserably ordered a dog bed and monogrammed dishes. (He'd reached out to the owners' families, first, of course, but they'd admitted they didn't have the time or space for an escape artist dog that liked to run for hours.)

Dodger wasn't really so bad, though, Tony thought. Steve kept him very well exercised, and Dodger was a great running buddy because Steve never had to worry about tiring him out. He didn't get on the furniture unless they called for him. And sure, he was loud, but Tony found himself talking back to him as if he was a person, and Steve was apparently smitten about it, if Natasha was to be believed.

And, Tony couldn't help but think smugly, Dodger liked cuddling with him better. It was probably because Tony was around more (Steve still went on missions that could last for weeks, but he'd set up an account with a dog-walking service so Tony didn't have to worry about that either). When Steve was there, Tony tried to stay hands off, but when he was gone, he and Dodger got to sulk about it together, and it was a very uniting endeavor. So most nights Steve was gone, they'd lounge together on the couch, Tony watching old movies that didn't require too much attention and Dodger with his nose buried someplace a wet nose was particularly annoying, like on his stomach or the back of his neck.

"I'm home," Steve called, and then, "Really? Neither of you are coming to greet me?"

"You were supposed to be home three days ago," Tony grumped, not looking away from the TV. He'd told Dodger that he was giving Steve the cold shoulder yesterday, and Dodger had yelped back something sounding like 'woo woove woo,' which Tony had decided meant he agreed with him. He knew he'd break eventually, but he decided Steve had to work for it this time, especially because he hadn't wanted him to go undercover for a month anyway.

"Hydra was literally chasing me all over Sweden," Steve said, flabbergasted, as he finally came over to the couch. He frowned at Dodger. "This is no way to treat your main owner."

Dodger lifted his head, mouth opened in a grin, and let out a 'wowyow!'

"I'll remember this when you want to go out for a run with me tomorrow," Steve groused, then scowled at Tony. "And you too. I'm gonna leave him in while I run so he can just bother you."

"I'll cuddle him instead," Tony told him flatly.

Steve let out a wounded noise, then couldn't swallow back an amused huff, leaning over the couch. "Yeah, well, we'll see about that." He waited a beat to see if Tony would take the bait, but he'd been stewing over his safety for three days, so he got nothing. Sighing, he rolled his eyes and sat up a little, reaching out to lay a smack to Tony's ass, because he knew that, at least, would get a reaction.

Tony barely had time to jump in surprise before Dodger was up, barking at him. "Oh my god????"

"Dodger oh my fuck," Steve spluttered, rearing back with his hands up.

Dodger hunched over Tony's body protectively, still barking, loud, assertive noises that left them both absolutely gobsmacked. Finally, though, Tony came out of his shock and turned, wrapping his arms around Dodger in an effort to soothe him. "It's okay, sweetheart, Daddy was just trying to rile me up."

"It's not like he hasn't seen me smack your ass before," Steve exclaimed defensively.

"Maybe if you'd spanked me three days ago, he wouldn't be barking," Tony scoffed.

"Unbelievable. I didn't want to lead Hydra directly to my boyfriend and you're scolding me," Steve said in disbelief. Then he rolled his eyes and sighed, turning to head for the bedroom. "I'm going to shower. Maybe we'll both cool off."

"I'm fine," Tony said sternly.

Steve tossed an unamused frown over his shoulder. "I meant me and Dodger."

"You're both very anxious dogs," Tony agreed sympathetically, then squealed when Dodger shoved his cold nose against his throat, covering Steve's gleeful 'you deserve that!'

#ideas #stony #dogs

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normal-thoughts-official · 7 months

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Okay. It's official. I fucking hate the way Choices is dealing with the "MC gets kidnapped" shit

They're focusing on the plot to the detriment of any emotional stakes, which is always a bad move but it's a particularly bad move when we barely understand what the threat is this time but have been missing these characters and wanting to see them again for three years. Every expression of feeling over MC's kidnapping feels rushed and squeezed in, like they're trying to get it out of the way so they can get back to the Valax shit. Imtura, Nia, and Mal made up in five seconds without us even understanding how exactly this awful fight went down to begin with. MC explains what happened while they were in captivity and they all just go to sleep. Not even a "holy shit MC, are you okay?" or "we will end her" or anything. We don't even get a general line of how they reacted like "they were horrified" "they were angry" "they were sad" "they didn't give a flying fuck" or something.

Even Imtura's grief, while definitely the best written one out of the four, felt like it was dealt with in seconds (I'm yet to play with my Imtura-romancing MC in my other acc so I'm not sure how it goes with her in the bathhouse but it shouldn't take romantic involvement for the grief to last). Even when Valax shows up a second time it doesn't feel like they're as terrified of the idea of losing MC again as they should be

There are some pretty good angsty lines and moments but they always pass so quickly it feels like they're brushing it all off. It almost feels like fanservice. "See, here, your LI kisses you as if pouring all the longing of a year into it. And then you go to sleep. Happy?" No, actually. For fuck's sake, you have to dig deeper than that

The only moment we had that wasn't plot related was bathhouse scene, which was cute, but felt entirely out of place. They just made up, they still don't even know what happened to MC, if MC's okay, they barely had the time to catch up and they're just carefreely dunking each other in the water? It could have been played like a cathartic "finally having fun after so long of suffering" sort of deal at least and then it would work, but it simply wasn't written that way and it just feels like their entire dynamic is botched and weird and we're supposed to forget that for the last year MC was gone and Imtura had a massive fallout with the rest of the group. They keep alternating between these super dramatic declarations and lines and acting as if nothing has happened, and it just doesn't work. Take the time to deal with the emotional consequences of the LITERAL INCITING INCIDENT OF THE STORY, then you can jump into battles against the big bad hot gorgeous goth woman. This just feels like they don't want to deal with it and are just throwing some lines here and there so we don't complain

Don't get me wrong, I'm generally enjoying the story and I'm happy to have the gang back, but PB's not doing their own plot justice, especially considering they've supposedly been writing this for three years. The emotional stakes are always what carries a story, even a fantasy/action one. We have to care about the characters, which we do because we have since book 1, but it doesn't seem like the story does and it gets more and more disappointing every week

#im just venting but god im SO frustrated I've been looking SO forward to bolas2 and it's just not delivering #playchoices #blades of light and shadow #bolas #bolas2 spoilers #choices bolas #blades of light and shadow 2

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verysium · 3 months

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i assume that you listen to the weeknd sooo may i ask for a quick the weeknd song associations w bllk characters perhaps? if possible. i like the way you think of each character and im curios if we have a common perspective at some point

😭 if you mention abel in any ask to me, there is no way it's going to be quick and easy. this took me like a week to process and even longer to formulate my answer. it's difficult to assign just one song to each character because the discography is just so versatile, so there may be some overlap.

THE TOWN

this song is basically kaiser if he left someone in his past prior to joining bastard münchen in his rise to fame. i envision a reader who was with him during the early years of his career (maybe as childhood friends), and he abandoned them when his big breakthrough finally came.

"you did many things / that i liked, that i liked" the covert narcissism here was the selling point. now i'm not saying kaiser is a pathological narcissist, but the way he thinks inherently revolves around himself. he only likes people because they have something he likes. you have to possess something he actually wants before he even bats an eyelash at you. and even when you do get into his good graces, it's conditional. in other words, kaiser's buddy-buddy system is entirely based on value. how much value are you going to provide him, and how long is that value going to last? hence why he's so obsessed with isagi because our little blueberry sprout protagonist has both the novelty and adaptability kaiser desires.

"you made me feel so good / before i left on the road" i know this sounds like some shit a frat boy would spew, but here me out. i think the reason why half the fandom absolutely bashes kaiser's character is because his actions come off as emotionally immature. making arrogant claims with nothing to back them up? having no personal boundaries? manhandling other people? projecting his own insecurities in the form of jealousy? that sounds a lot like some of the male specimens i've seen in today's society, particularly those who make podcasts for a living. kaiser is not a hot bad boy. he's just pure jerk in some cases, and a tragic backstory is not going to justify those actions. but to apply that to a romantic relationship? some of y'all are not ready to hear this, but kaiser is not going to make a good boyfriend. he would most definitely use you.

"you deserve your name / on a crown, on a throne" if there's one thing you should know about kaiser, it's that he will find a way to pay homage to his past, even if it wasn't a good time for him. so despite the way he absolutely ghosted you years ago, he will find a way to enshrine your existence within his. i have a running theory that kaiser's tattoos are actually for the girl he left back at home. he'd probably get your name inked on his knuckles or something.

"but i remember on the bathroom floor / 'fore i went on tour / like you said we couldn't do it again / cause you had a thing with some other man" i've read a lot of fics where kaiser has a possessive meltdown whenever reader finds someone else after their break-up, or even just the reddit theories that kaiser will flip out when ness finally leaves him. i'm going to add my own take on this. yes, kaiser will freak out but only after a long stage of denial. at first, he's going to be unfazed because there's no way you'd actually leave him. and even if you did find another man, you would inevitably come crawling back to him. in his mind, the fact that you two should be together is about as debatable as defying the laws as physics. which is to say, there is no debate.

"now that i heard you're single /...i'll give you something to live for" mr. steal your girl is back. kaiser may be rash and impulsive in his everyday life, but his patience is limitless when it comes to biding his time against his enemies. you're finally big enough to eat, yoichi...does that ring any bells? he will literally wait just so he can see your new relationship crash and burn. and when it finally does, he will swoop in during your time of emotional need and make you co-dependent on him. this man has the self-seeking opportunism of a whole vulture committee.

"and it feels so priceless to me / that you're always free" ok but this double entendre??? like priceless as in you're valuable to the point you're free from anyone's definition of value. but also priceless in the way you're worth nothing, and people can have you for free. this is literally kaiser in any relationship where the other party overcompensates for him. i'm going to use ness as an example. i think kaiser knows how much ness is willing to do for him, and he appreciates it (he better lol) since ness is one of the only people he can actually get along with. but at the same time, the fact that ness would literally do anything for kaiser is also the reason why kaiser takes him for granted. given the large supply of admiration and support, it's only logical that the demand for it should wane. the key to keeping kaiser's attention is scarcity. you can't be too distant from him, but you can't be too close either. if you're right in the optimal middle, then you're scarce, and all scarce things are rare and, subsequently, valuable.

PRAY FOR ME

this song could work for so many characters, but i'm going to go with noel noa because i haven't talked about him much. he fits into this model for "the strongest" character (akin to gojo in jjk or "the little giant" in haikyuu!!) this mentor/role model archetype is incredibly significant in the protagonist's journey to the top. noa is isagi's primary motivation and presumably his greatest obstacle if he were ever to become the #1 player in the world. the tragic aspect to this archetype is that we often aren't given the full picture for these characters. their internal consciousness is eclipsed in some way because the story is written from the perspective of the protagonist. noa grew up in the slums of france, but the manga doesn't actually focus on any of the struggles he had to face. all of that is implied and sometimes even expected. his strength (or at least the image of his strength) becomes everything, and he can't afford to lose any of it. i think that's the saddest part about any character considered the strongest. they push themselves to the top but simultaneously back themselves into a corner.

"if i'm gon' die for you / if i'm gon' kill for you / then i'll spill this blood for you" i know noa's peers like to shit on him for being so serious all the time, but when you're raised in the kind of environment where everything has been against you from day one, the survival mentality is literally ingrained in you. a lot of his advice to isagi is centered around this idea of eliminating any wishful thinking. he can't count on anything that isn't certain. so if he's going to have to make a sacrifice, it has to be worth it. i think that's also why noa doesn't relate to any of the other world class players. he isn't driven by greed or fame or popularity. the egoist mindset doesn't arise from his own personal ambitions. it's simply how he's learned to live life from a young age.

"my heart don't skip a beat, even when hard times bumps the needle" noa is solid. like rock solid, 10 on a mohs hardness scale. but more than solid, he's incredibly sharp in his focus. he specifically tells isagi not to try and play god because he's seen so many other players try to do that and fail. they get caught up in what their goal could mean: victory, prestige, grandeur, control over others. but to noa, a goal is simply a goal. he doesn't care if this is a win or a loss for his team. he doesn't care if this will put him at rivalry with others. all he needs to do is figure out the most efficient way to get a black-and-white ball through the net. and he's so goddamn good at this. he's mastered it to the point he can focus on what he desires right now in this moment and block out everything else as unnecessary noise. hence, he doesn't get overwhelmed by external pressures. everything about him, even his ego, is intrinsic. and that's what makes him the best.

i'm running out of room, so i'm just gonna list the next few below:

starboy: i've seen this song being assigned to either rin or kaiser, but now that i re-evaluate it, i think the self-deprecative and bitter tone fits sae best.

call out my name: reo listened to this the day nagi left him. i was there, so this is a reliable primary source. it is his breakup song.

heartless: i would assign this one to sae. the melody, the vibe, not so much the lyrics. the overall impression just fits him. i don't know how to explain it.

the hills: this song suits barou, and you cannot tell me otherwise. i'm gonna blast this every time he makes an entrance in the manga.

lost in the fire: this is oliver's pre-game anthem. he's not actually as cool as the song implies, but he likes to think he is.

don't break my heart: this is rin when he's acting butt-hurt. his first big heartbreak was from a 180-cm redhead who drinks salted kombucha every morning and has ugly shorn-off bangs.

die for you: honestly this song was made for the children of divorce who grew up with a messed up conception of love and avoidant attachment style, so obviously i'm going to assign this one to hiori.

too late: kaiser plays this from his stereo while he sips on a martini and contemplates self-destruction. he recognizes that he was in the wrong, but is he actually going to apologize? hell no.

moth to a flame: this is isagi being the homewrecker he is. he's not innocent enough to be completely pardoned. i would classify him as either chaotic good or lawful neutral.

gasoline: niko would suit this song cus he can be somewhat nihilistic if he wants to be. also because i headcanon him as someone with a disorderly sleep schedule.

the morning: uh....honestly idk. this one stumped me. it's giving that one barou backshot where he was training shirtless. but it also reminds me of that one kaiser panel with his 300,000,000 salary.

sidewalks: kunigami plays this song while working out. he is the og grinder. started from the bottom and clawed his way up to the top.

how do i make you love me? ness plays this while doodling in his "operation make kaiser fall in love with me" notebook.

less than zero: this is kira after isagi ousted him from popularity. not much else to say.

#asks #blue lock #blue lock headcanons #blue lock imagines #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #niko ikki #nagi seishiro #reo mikage #kunigami rensuke #barou shouei #ryosuke kira #noel noa #oliver aiku #isagi yoichi #hiori yo #alexis ness #the weeknd #abel tesfaye

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

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Am I the asshole for getting a restraining order against my anti-vax sister and her family?

I know that sounds bad but hear me out.

So I (27 M) and my wife (28 F) recently had our first child together six months ago and my parents and sister have started coming over to see our baby girl.

I didn't let them see the baby when she was born because unfortunately my wife and I were in a bad car accident. (Drunk driver ran us off the road and the car rolled down a small cliffside until it flipped over and crashed) we're both ok but my wife is now wheelchair bound and our daughter had to be delivered and put in an incubator for the rest of pregnancy because my wife was only 26 weeks pregnant at the time.

It was a miracle that our baby even survived.

But because my daughter was born so early she has a lot of health problems, including an incredibly weak immune system.

This is where the Am I The Asshole part comes in.

Obviously because of the horrible circumstances my family, particularly my sister, have been very patient on not being able to see the baby until everything settles down.

Well things have settled enough that we felt comfortable enough letting my parents come over to visit and meet their new granddaughter.

And that would've been fine if my sister (30 F) hadn't come too.

My sister is an anti-vaxxer. A hardcore anti-vaxxer.

Like full on believing in essential oils and healing crystals and literally ANYTHING other than traditional medicine. And considering the fact that she spent the entirety of my wife's pregnancy sending her guides for "vaccine detoxes", what essential oils to use and constantly pressuring her not to get our daughter vaccinated...yeah.

(Luckily my wife is way too smart to actually believe that bullshit and kept leaving my sister on read whenever she would start)

So my sister came over and brought her three children with her. None of her children are vaccinated.

She wanted to let her unvaccinated spawns near my heavily immunocompromised infant daughter.

Two of the three spawns were both sick with colds.

I cannot believe she would be that stupid.

So I yelled at her, telling her to take her children and leave because they sure as hell arent coming NEAR my daughter. She yelled at me saying that she wanted to see her niece and her essential oil covered gremlins would help give my daughter "natural immunity" and other anti vax crap. I argued back that if my daughter catches whatever PREVENTABLE diseases the kids are carrying she could very likely DIE.

And it turned into a whole big fight in the driveway. I ended up punching my brother in law (sister's equally anti-vax husband) in the face when he tried to push past me and let the children into my house. (He also punched me twice after that)

It was an entire mess.

Eventually my parents dragged my sister and her husband away and made them leave with their kids.

Once that whole ordeal ended I gave the entire driveway a deep clean and threw out the clothes I was wearing that day. (Call me paranoid but I do not want ANY risk of my baby girl getting sick and very possibly DYING because of my sister and her family)

My wife and I have my sister and her husband blocked on everything and I'm working on getting a restraining order against those people because there is no way in hell you could convince my sister to just vaccinate her children. So I do not want her, her husband or her children anywhere near my family ever again.

So Am I the asshole? My sister certainly thinks I am (my mother told me. she's been yapping away to her facebook group friends about how unfair and horrible I'm being when she did nothing wrong)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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limedtown · 2 months

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hate making this post but. hi im Eli, a physically disabled gay trans man, and im what the kids call "extremely broke"

ive been out of work since April '23 due to said disability and really have not been able to find anything that i'm able to do otherwise so i've been trying to scratch out a living through my art and my handmade jewelry on my Etsy store. this is, as you can imagine, not a particularly glamorous profession, but thankfully my partner's income has been able to support us for the last almost-year, albeit barely.

i'm trying to open commissions here soon but i'm going in for top surgery (finally) on March 5th, which is going to take me out for a couple of weeks while i recover, so i won't be able to work on art for at least a little bit. my partner is also taking almost 2 weeks off of work to take care of me - thankfully our state ensures paid family medical leave that we'll be able to get, but it's not entirely certain right now when that's going to pay out and we'd like to not be left w literally nothing if there's a delay.

UPDATE 3/4: they fuckin cancelled and rescheduled my top surgery on me last minute! 🙃 the only good news is this gives me extra time to try and get commissions opened this week. the bad news is this means we won't get the medical leave pay we were supposed to. and my partner's shifts that he took off for this time have all already been covered.

all of this to say money is really tight right now; major bills are paid for but we still need food and household goods - i would like to be able to eat while i'm recovering from surgery but that's just, like, a personal preference of mine

i know the economy is in shambles and a lot of people need money rn but if you're able i'd really appreciate if you could check out my Etsy or Ko-fi shop; as i said before i make handmade jewelry and i'm selling some Sailor Moon pride flag stickers rn (the latter are currently only available on Ko-fi rn)

i really hate asking for something for nothing so please check out my shop links and help support me that way if you can. that said i'm grateful for any help at all so i'm still going to put my v*nmo here at the end of the post in case anyone would like to kick some help our way through there instead.

and if you can't help i'd really appreciate a reblog, any visibility would go a long way rn :')

tl;dr please consider helping out a broke disabled artist going into top surgery this week fucked over because of a top surgery cancellation, ty

ETSY | KO-FI STORE

BF'S COMMISSION POST | BF'S ETSY

v*nmo: elmtrees

#caws #:^)

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hedgehog-moss · 2 years

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I meant to shear my llamas last spring, but ended up having to cancel due to yet another national lockdown—and it was actually for the best since last summer was so cold and rainy; not a good time to be a naked llama.

So we postponed things by a year, and our new appointment was today, and I'm so pleased with how it went! The shearer said, and I quote, that my llamas were exceptionally nice llamas. I'd never had them shorn before, so I didn't know what to expect, and just to be safe my mum and I added crossbars between the posts in the corral earlier this week—it used to be just a wire fence. I thought wooden rails would be more of a deterrent in case of a llama uprising (literally—Pampe's jumped over this corral fence once when she was a teenager.)

Here are the new crossbars, with fresh leaves still attached, for a bonus llama snack (they have now been eaten)

I decided Pampelune would go first. Pyrgus refused to enter the corral with his mum, so he worriedly watched her being haltered and tied to a post from outside—I was hoping for a poignant mother-son nose-cuddle scene like in Dumbo but no, Pampy actually looked a bit offended by her son's wimpiness, and Gus was like sorry :( the corral is scary :(

Pampy was so calm and patient throughout <3 She's a very chill llama so I was expecting things to go well with her. I warned the shearer that Pampérigouste would be another story—that was the reason I wanted Pampy to go first, so Pampe could watch her mother calmly being shorn and see that nothing bad was happening.

The only issue we encountered is that Pampelune likes to wear her ears low behind her head, as shown above, because it just seems to be the ear position she finds most comfortable (and it's the reason she ranked last in last year's ear contest), so we had to grab her ears and move them this way and that in order to shear the back of her head, and she very much resented it. Still, she was very good and was awarded a banana peel and half a carrot.

(Important bit of arcane knowledge: underneath her wool, a llama has the texture of very old and scratchy wall-to-wall carpeting)

At first I hesitated to keep Pampe in the corral while her mum was being shorn, explaining that she might freak out about being trapped in a small fenced place with a stranger wielding a very noisy unknown device. Straight away she started debunking my claims by being very calmly and politely curious about what was happening.

The shearer had been previously told on the phone that she might only be able to shear 1 llama, because the second one is a bit of a pain in general. Pampe's never been shorn in her life and she's Pampe. A free llama. She doesn't like being controlled or immobilised or forced to wear a halter and she's not particularly trusting with strangers. It seemed safe to assume shearing her would be challenging, and the shearer was abundantly warned that she would be dealing with one Good Llama and one Bad Llama.

So, of course, Pampe proceeded to be The Best Llama This Shearer Had Ever Met. Just so she could complain about being unfairly slandered, I suppose. She didn't even dance around or lift her feet when her legs were being shorn, which is apparently something every llama does as a defensive reflex. She just stood there like "?? I'm a model llama. Everyone knows that. A pleasure to have in class. What lies has my owner been feeding you?"

Pampe: "I haven't had an experience this boring since giving birth."

Baby Poldine: side eye

(Poldine was pretty intrigued by the whole thing. You can hear her quizzical hums in the video, and when her mum was freed she immediately went to sniff her and touch her all over with her nose, while holding her tail up very high, which seems to be the baby llama equivalent of cartoon characters going around with a question mark above their head. )

Pandolf spent the morning locked in the barn because he tends to express his support a bit too exuberantly (I bet he would have volunteered to be shorn in solidarity), and when he was finally freed, he also had a lot of questions.

Pampe's wool turned out to be a lot thicker than Pampelune's, and Pampoldine's father is also very fluffy, so I think my next shearing appointment will be just for Pampe & Poldine. The shearer was so happy with my llamas—at one point I was telling Pampy "That's a good llama" and she said "That's an excellent llama!!" and then she called them exceptional, which I've already mentioned, but I'm so proud.

She said she often needs to use a hobble or ropes and force the llamas to lie down on their side, like they do with alpacas, which tends to be more stressful for everyone involved when it comes to llamas, since they're bigger and struggle more forcefully. She'd also told me to have old towels at the ready, to wipe off all the spit we would receive from stressed or angry llamas—and no one was spat on even once.

(I asked her how she came to be a travelling llama shearer, and she said she had two alpacas on her farm, and her shearer offered to train her since there are few camelid shearers in the country; so she's now his successor. She spent the night on my land in her camper van and we did the shearing in the early morning, then had a coffee and she was off to shear 25 alpacas further South.)

After letting everyone out of the corral I went to get a large bag to gather up all the wool, and meanwhile the llamas were rolling and rolling in the still-dewy grass, it must have been quite an intriguing and refreshing sensation! As close to skinny-dipping as a llama can ever get.

Conclusion:

#crawling along #is this a dated reference #probably #okay i just looked up how old the bouncing pixar sheep is and this short is nearly 20yo oh my god

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storiesofsvu · 9 months

Text

Solace In Solitude Ch 4

Warnings: language, medical talk, mentions of trauma/Lauren episode. Medical injury, panic attacks/generalized anxiety. Very likely inaccurate information about DWB and medical procedures. I'm literally making things up as I go along. don't come for me. Also note that this is one of those chapters where it's little events over the passage of time so the ** means that it's a new day/few more days later kinda thing. Apologies for taking so much time between chapters on this and posting in general, being out of town really threw my entire week and vibe off and I hate it. Hopefully this will kick start me back to where I want to be lol

Emily was honestly surprised when she didn’t see you at all over the next two days, she heard your name a couple of times but nothing about you being in the hospital. She found that without you around she felt a little more obligated to actually do what you’d asked, as if she was a school kid doing extra credit on spring break, that if she had done it by the time you’d gotten back she’d get a gold star. When it felt like you were breathing over her shoulder it just made her less motivated, as if she was about to do it and then you’d ask about it and she’d immediately shut down and wasn’t going to do it any longer. She was doing it for herself, not for you.

She was whisked away one afternoon for a quick procedure, another doctor redoing the irritated stitches on her back and she was reminded once again to start being a little more active. Somehow she took that advice a little closer to heart, making it to the nurses station and back twice during the rest of the afternoon. Now that she was moving around a bit more her appetite was increased, each meal finished almost in its entirety and the nurses praised her level of hydration. She still didn’t like her required walks, she found there were too many people around, too many doctors watching out of the corner of their eyes, nurses badgering her if she needed anything or wanted to check out PT, families there to visit others who just stared. After one of her first walks she retreated back to her room and refused to get out of the bed the rest of the day.

It was later that night that she found just how empty the hospital got after dark. Hallways basically cleared, the rooms quiet, lights dimmed, windows that she could actually see the stars through. Emily actually started to enjoy those walks, something about them was calming, knowing that this time was hers only, that the city was asleep, she felt safe. She didn’t feel ashamed about how slow she was moving, how many breaks she had to take or something trivial like how bad her hair looked when she walked at night with no one to witness. Going to PT could still eat a bag of dicks though.

She was honestly starting to think that the little outburst between the two of you had been enough to make you throw in the towel, and she didn’t blame you either. She’d been incredibly stubborn, she always was and her realizing this wasn’t about to make her stop, she just wouldn’t judge you for giving up on her. She was used to it by now, it wasn’t like you were the only one who had done so.

She’d spent a good chunk of the night wandering through the hospital, taking breaks whenever she needed, she found a particularly nice windowsill up on the fourth floor and made a mental note to bring a book with her the next night. She just felt more alive at night, the darkness hid everything, hid her past, her secrets, her shame and guilt about everything that had happened. It was only when the building began to come alive that she let out a huff, returning to her room, surprising herself when she fell asleep instantly.

By the time Emily woke up it was nearing noon, sun streaming in through the open blinds, warming the room from the cool spring morning. She shifted slightly in the bed, stretching out a couple of tense muscles as she blinked her eyes open, glancing around the room. It was no surprise that her breakfast was left on the rolling table, ready and waiting for whenever she was awake, this had been a daily occurrence. It was just more often than not that she woke up when they did morning rounds, she was assuming her night crawling of the hospital had her conked out heavier than normal. She rolled her head to the other direction to look out the window when her brows furrowed at the sight of you on the small couch in the corner. You had what looked like a textbook in your lap, a pile of charts on one side and a notebook on the other, pen in your hand, highlighter in the top pocket of your scrubs. At first she was surprised you hadn’t jumped to attention the moment she moved and then she noticed your earphones. She pushed herself up to sitting but even that movement didn’t catch your eye, so she picked up an empty paper cup from the side table, crumpling it up and hucking it in your direction. You jumped, glancing up as you pulled out one earphone and then the other.

“Seriously? We’re resorting to throwing things at one another now?”

“Why are you in my room?”

“It’s quieter than the nurses station.” You shrugged, going back to the book, “I was in here a lot while you were still comatose. It’s easier to focus when you can actually hear your brain.” You mumbled, letting out a little sigh, flipping a page.

Emily didn’t say anything in return, not that you were expecting much. Instead she studied you, the profiler gears in her brain beginning to turn once again. You looked about as tired as she felt, but it wasn’t slow blinks or bags under your eyes, it was the dejection wafting off you, the way your shoulders hunched forward and you were curled around yourself like you were admitting defeat, like you were trying to comfort yourself. She could tell that your eyes were scanning the text but you weren’t absorbing anything, maybe it was because now she was awake and you were aware of her watching you but she was pretty sure that wasn’t it. There was something eating at you, something that was pulling you away from swiping traumas and surgeries from down in the ER for a more isolated day in the one place where no one would want to come looking for you.

“What’s with you today?” She suddenly asked, almost kicking herself instantly at the way she worded the question. Sure, she didn’t really care but she could’ve been a little more civil, if she pissed you off you did have the authority to prod at her with needles.

“Hmm?” You hadn’t even glanced up from the book.

“You seem…off.”

This time you let out another tired sigh, flipping the book shut and tossing it off to the side, “it’s my younger sister’s thirtieth today. We always do a girl’s trip for her birthday and considering it’s a milestone year we were supposed to be doing a big one.”

“What’s stopping you?” She asked, her brow scrunching as she reached out to her breakfast and you vaguely gestured around the room. “You use up all your vacation days already?”

“No.” You practically snorted, “but I can’t exactly take enough time off.”

“Then have her fly out here?” Emily suggested and your eyes narrowed in her direction, wondering why she was technically trying to help you out right now.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy you know.” You pulled her chart from the pile beside you, “besides, my family thinks I’m in Haiti.” Your eyes were skimming through the updates in her chart as she studied you for a moment longer.

“Why?”

“It was where I did my longest posting for Doctors Without Borders, I liked it the best and it was the one I was the busiest and most unreachable. It was the most believable cover so any friends and family wouldn’t wonder why I seemed to disappear off the face of the earth.”

“Oh…” She paused for a moment, picking apart the pastry in front of her, slowly chewing on a couple of pieces, “I didn’t realize Borders had a program here.”

“They don’t.” You replied dryly, not looking up, “at least not in the city. There’s a couple of programs out in the suburbs, lots of work helping refugees.”

“Is that where you were the last couple of days?” She asked and the pen in your hand stalled and you finally looked up at her.

“What?”

“You haven’t been around for a bit,” she shrugged, popping another bite of food into her mouth.

“I’m not with Borders right now. The US government is paying my salary, when I said I was from Boston I meant that’s where I live, it’s where I had a very comfortable job that I loved and had just started doing research for a clinical trial so I could get a grant for it. Then I essentially signed a verbal NDA saying I wouldn’t tell anyone where I was or what I was doing for your safety and I didn’t have a choice in the matter.” You flipped the chart closed, standing from the couch, “so how about you cooperate for once and lean forward so I can check those new stitches.”

Emily felt a twinge of guilt creep through her at your admission, dropping the pastry back onto her plate so she could shift upwards and you could do what you needed to. She’d been so wrapped up in her own situation she’d just figured you’d either volunteered or were on a separate contract or something. She was slowly realizing that maybe you’d been thrown into this new life as much as she had.

You pulled on a pair of gloves, lifting up her shirt so you could examine the newly done work, gently touching a couple of them, “looks good. Plastics knows what they’re doing.” You let out a sigh, dropping her shirt back down, “I’m glad your appetite’s back, and clearly you’ve been moving around a bit more.”

“Guess you could say I got a little antsy staying in bed all the time.”

“Good.” Crossing back to the couch you started to pick up all your things, “now get your ass down to PT, I’m booking it for you on Wednesday.”

“Oh come on!” Emily groaned, slipping right back into the dynamic of her being insanely frustrated with this place, you, herself, “I was up walking the entire floor the last couple of days, isn’t that enough?”

“No.” You stated blankly, turning back to her from the door, “you’ve got muscles in your abdomen that need restrengthening. Not to mention your mobility, you’ll go to do something you’ve always been able to do and find that you can’t do it now or it’s gonna hurt like hell. You need to be cleared for at home PT before you get discharged.” You pulled the door open, “and for the sake of both of us, you want to get discharged. Go to PT.”

Emily grumbled, dropping back down onto the bed as you swung the door shut behind you.

This was bullshit.

She was a trained FBI agent who passed all her physical and fitness tests with flying colours, she didn’t need PT. She was fine.

This loop around the hospital got Emily down to the cafeteria, happily picking up a side of fries to take back to her room, a little treat, a reward considering she got herself up and moving today. She was eating them while flipping through a magazine when you slipped into the room and she noticed the way you spotted the smuggled in food, a frown taking over her face.

“Take the fries away and I’ll be on my worst behaviour.” She warned, actually earning a chuckle from you.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You replied, moving through the room to check on her vitals, “plus that means you made it all the way down to the caf, that’s a decent walk.”

“Hmph.” As usual, she shut down as soon as you managed to weasel your way a quarter inch through the door. You let out a soft sigh, scribbling down a couple of updates into her chart.

“Do you not want to get out of here or something?” You asked and it was Emily’s turn to sigh, chewing on her lip for a moment while she thought before looking up at you with a trace of worry etched into her features.

“What exactly happens when I do get out of here?”

“There’s an apartment set up.” You replied, “I’ll take you there, make sure you’re settling in. I’ve got other paperwork for you, passport, ID’s, bank account to keep you comfortable. They left me with a burner phone, said they’d call if there was ever a major update.” Emily let out a low breath, her eyes flitting between you, the window and then the door as a tightness wound its way into her chest. Your brow furrowed, perching on the edge of the bed, your hand gently squeezing at her leg through the blanket, “hey… what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” She shook it off, avoiding your gaze, “it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You can lie to me all you want but the monitors you’re hooked up to can’t. So when your heart rate spikes like that, as your doctor, it’s my job to worry.”

Scowling, she crossed her arms over her chest, sinking back into the bed as she tried to retrain her body to not show the signs of stress no matter how much she was feeling it. However this time things were different, she really was vulnerable, she didn’t have her gun, her team, the strength to pull herself out of another hole. She took a heavy breath, her eyes closing for a moment before she finally dropped the mask. It had been long enough now, her mind was clear of all the fogginess that had came with the coma, with the higher level of pain meds, she’d been able to piece things together over the past couple of weeks and she knew the truth before she even asked, her voice wavering when she finally spoke.

“They didn’t catch him, did they? I mean… that’s why we’re here isn’t it?”

“I… don’t know.” You shrugged, “I’m sorry. But considering all the secretiveness, the hiding, I’d assume that whoever did that to you is still out there.” Pausing for a moment you watched the way she appeared to shrink even further into the bed, “was… what happened… a work related thing, or personal? Like are we talking about a jealous ex or a sadistic serial killer?”

Your words almost made Emily laugh at the irony of your question and she wasn’t even sure she could explain the situation to herself right now. Instead she slipped the mask back on, rolling onto her side to face the window, her mumble barely heard, “it’s a long story.”

The stars had been so bright through the hospital windows Emily felt incredibly drawn to them, the temptation of breathing fresh air for the first time in months too strong for her to resist. Head tilted up to the night sky, eyes shut as the breeze whipped around her she finally felt like she was free. You were nowhere to be found, the beeping and whirring of machines no longer attacking her senses, she couldn’t feel nurses hands constantly prodding at her body, she was the one in control. The city was strangely quiet, or maybe it was just that she was used to DC, that she’d forgotten what the European streets sounded like after dark, maybe she really could get used to this. She could smell rain in the air, heavy clouds hanging in the sky before a droplet hit her cheek. A smile split her lips as her eyes opened, fingers raising to wipe away the drop though her head tilted in confusion when they came away from her cheek coated in crimson. Another drop came barreling down from the sky and landed in front of her feet, when it hit the pavement it exploded into a pool of blood, trickling its way into the cracks of the sidewalk, sputtering in time with the beating of her heart.

“Hello Emily.” She could hear his voice clear as day, feel his breath on the back of her neck, his hands closing in around her waist, squeezing a little too tight on the side of her injury, his fingers digging into the stitches and she winced. “Or what is it that they’re calling you nowadays? Did you decide to stick with Lauren? I always thought it suited you so beautifully.”

She tried to shove away from him but when she turned around he was nowhere to be seen, only his dark laugh echoing through the air. The air seemed to be turning darker, stars vanishing from the sky, the rain had picked up, coating the streets in maroon and her vision began to tunnel. She whipped around again at Ian’s laugh, eyes darting around the buildings, her breath catching in her throat when she couldn’t see the hospital anymore.

“I found you once, you know I’ll be able to find you again.” Ian jeered, and she let out a groan as his fingers scratched across the brand on her chest, “I marked you. You’ll always belong to me. But you knew that, didn’t you? You’re just waiting for me to come get you, take back what’s rightfully mine.”

Emily gasped at the feeling of cold metal at the back of her neck, digging into her skin as he pressed the gun hard against the base of her skull. She could feel the heat of his body right up against hers,

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to make any mistakes this time. I’m not going to leave you for dead. I’m not walking away until I see your brains splattered on the ground.”

Her eyes squeezed tightly shut in an attempt to hold back her tears as he cocked the gun and the jolt that shocked through her made her gasp out loud, she struggled to breathe for only a moment before her eyes flew open.

Emily was shaking, covered in a sheen of sweat as she bolted upright in her bed, her hand slamming out to turn on the light in her hospital room. Panicked eyes darted around every corner and crevice of the room as her heart hammered in her chest. Gaining the courage to move she checked under the bed, making sure the bathroom was empty before she returned to her bed. She could still hear Ian’s voice running through her brain, her arms breaking out in goosebumps as the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She felt like she couldn’t quite catch her breath, her brain alert yet also foggy, almost dizzy as his words found their way back into her head. He was right, the longer she stayed here, the more of a sitting duck she was.

She had to get out of here.

Now.

She hopped off the bed, thankful that she was still in a set of the comfortable clothes you’d brought in for her. Rushing around the room she yanked her phone charger out from the wall, tossing it into the duffel bag while she quickly gathered anything else she might need. It was a flurried frenzy while she debated between slipping out the door or climbing out the window before she remembered she was on the third floor. Taking a deep breath, she unclipped the monitor on her finger, ripped the stickers off her chest and with a heavy wince tugged out her IV, holding a cotton ball to it until she was certain it wasn’t bleeding and wrapping a band aid over it.

She was so wrapped up in her own panic, in the fact that she felt like she was suffocating from the inside out, she tried to shake out of it, she just needed to get out of the four walls of her room and she would feel better, she knew it. They were closing in on her, darkness taking over in the exact same way the city streets had trapped her with Ian. Her eyes were blurring and she didn’t even realize it was because they were filling with tears, her hand clawed at her chest, tugging down the neckline of her shirt so it wasn’t constricting around her neck so much. She jumped, a quiet yelp escaping her lips when there was a flash of lightning outside the window and she was certain for a moment that Ian was in the room with her. She bent over, zipping the duffel bag up and wrenched it onto her shoulder and this yelp was much louder than the last. There was a searing pain in her side and she could feel something wet on her stomach, she couldn’t even get the bag off the ground and she was stumbling backwards before she even knew it.

“Whoa!” A voice called out and she jerked away from the set of hands that were gently wrapping around her waist, certain that they were Ian’s.

“Get off!” She managed out, her voice raw as she pushed away a little too hard, teetering back into the bed.

“Hey, hey…” your voice was calmer this time, “Valerie, it’s me, alright. It’s Doctor Carter, I’m not gonna hurt you, but I do need you to get back in bed. Valerie? Valerie, look at me.” Your hands gently closed around her wrists, pulling them away from her face and you realized just how wild her eyes were, that whatever kind of nightmare she’d been having she was still partially trapped in, “Valerie…”

“It’s Lauren!” She snapped and suddenly her body stilled as she gasped out a breath, muscles relaxing when she came back to earth and realized what she’d said. Her hand flew to her mouth and she tried to hold back the cries that were fighting their way out.

“Hey… you’re okay.” You assured her, squeezing softly at her hands, “but it looks like you blew a stitch or two. How about you lie back and we get that taken care of, okay?”

She nodded softly, shifting backwards onto the bed with a wince as you turned around to grab a suture kit and pull on a pair of gloves.

Sun was peeking in through the semi shut blinds when Emily let out a groan, blinking open her eyes before she swallowed, her mouth incredibly dry.

“I feel like I just woke up from the dead.” She muttered.

“A nice drug cocktail will do that.” You returned with a yawn and she nearly jumped, her eyes flying to the couch in the corner where you were curled up with a book, finishing the page before you looked up at her, “you feeling better than last night?”

“I.. guess?”

“What happened in the nightmare?” You asked and she scoffed.

“There was no nightmare.”

“Yeah, right. It was the middle of the night and you were trying to make a run for it in the midst of a panic attack.” You closed the book on your lap, a concerned expression on your face, “listen. I know that you don’t like me and that is completely acceptable, but you do need to get whatever’s on your mind out. I may not be a shrink but you’ve made a very good point that you can’t talk to one, so talk to me. The more I know, the more I can do to help you, including getting you on the proper combination of meds to make sure you’re not having anymore nightmares like that.”

Emily hated that you were right, letting out a frustrated sigh as she slowly sat up to pour herself a glass of water, taking a few sips to counteract the dry mouth from whatever you’d given her last night to calm her down. She felt the fear creeping its way through her veins, letting out a little shiver and tugging JJ’s sweater tighter around her body.

“He’s still out there.” She started, her voice barely above a whisper, “and he wants me dead.”

“As far as he’s concerned… you are dead.” You assured gently, “that’s why we’re here, remember? To keep you safe. I know it sucks, and who knows how long we’ll be here but it’s keeping you alive, okay?”

“I just…” she huffed, struggling to find the words as tears blurred into her eyes and she dropped her hands down to her lap with a defeated sniffle, “I can’t lift my arm above my head. If he tracks me down how am I supposed to put up a fight if I can’t even pick up a fucking duffle bag? I know it was stupid to try and run off like that, I was freaked out and wasn’t thinking straight. It just feels like the longer I’m trapped here….”

“That you’re actually trapped.” You finished for her and she glanced toward you, nodding gently.

“Yeah.” She replied, trying to wipe away a tear before you’d noticed it rolling over her cheek. You sunk back into the couch, honestly shocked to see her this vulnerable with her guard down this far. You weren’t sure if she finally trusted you or if she was just too tired to put up with it anymore but you figured now was the time to push your luck.

“Can I ask something?”

“Sure.” She reached out for her water, staring into the cup as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Who’s Lauren?”

“An old undercover alter ego.” She admitted, “the one that he fell in love with. The one who ultimately ended up betraying him and sending him to prison. He escaped, wanted revenge and was willing to take out my entire team along the way. So I took the fight to him instead.”

“Ballsy.”

“Stupid.” She scoffed, risking a look up at you as her fingers came to the swell of her chest, gingerly scratching through the fabric, “doesn’t matter if he never finds me I’m marked as his now.” Your head tilted and your brows furrowed as you looked at her, “what?”

“I knew the mark was new, I didn’t realize it wasn’t consensual.” You replied and she scoffed again, this time accompanied with an eye roll.

“Tattoos are more my style.”

“I know brands can’t really fully be removed, but it’s not my specialty, I can send plastics up for a consult?” You offered, finally shifting from the couch, stretching out your stiff body, “the scar tissue doesn’t look that bad, might have to do another skin graft but I’m sure there’s something they can figure out.”

“Uh… yeah, sure. Thanks.” A tight smile flashed briefly across her lips and you returned one to her as you approached the bed, “god you look like shit.”

“There she is.” You muttered with a sigh, “I didn’t want to go home and leave you on your own after that.” You checked how long ago you’d administered the meds, eyes flicking to the monitors to add a couple of notes in her chart. “I want to get you started on some daily anti anxiety meds and probably some sleeping pills too, if you’re having nightmares like that sometimes it’s better not to dream at all.”

“Yeah.” She ducked her gaze, her water cup suddenly very interesting as you replaced her chart and began to move to the door, “Dr. Carter?” She suddenly called out and you spun back to her with a brow raised, surprised she even remembered your name, much less used it.

“Yeah?”

“I need… to be able to take care of myself.” She felt heat creeping into her cheeks as she risked a glance up at you, “I can’t do that if I can’t lift a bag.” A small grin spread across your lips as she spoke, “is there an opening for PT today?”

“I’ll call down to find out.” You replied, pulling the door open, “make sure you get on the list asap.”

“Thanks.”

_____________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @scorpsik @prentiss-theorem @strongsassysexysloane @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @theclassicgaycousin @regalmilfs4me @kalixxh @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @tommyriddleobsessed @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @swimmingstudentchaos891

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #solace in solitude #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss fanfic

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eddiesbug · 2 years

Note

YOU WRITE EDDIE SO WELL! Could you write something about him with a reader who gets awful headaches all the time? - and him just being a super respectful and caring boyfriend,also literally ready to murder anyone who raises their voice around the reader when they have a headache

thank you ml!! i love this hehe

The pain is bad today. Worse than usual; it feels like someone’s taken a jackhammer to your skull, and you’re stuck with this pounding vibration bouncing around the inside of your head. You play it off as nothing when Eddie takes a sidelong look at you, smiling and knocking into his side playfully, but your expression gives you away. You get this look about you when a headache comes on; your eyes scrunch and your lips pull tight into an unconscious grimace. You resist the urge to clasp your aching head in your hands.

“Come here, princess,” Eddie murmurs, keeping his voice low even as Dustin and Mike guffaw over something or other. You oblige him, clambering into his lap with as much grace as a newborn deer and pressing your face to his chest. He cradles the back of your head like you’re made of glass.

Tonight is Hellfire - obviously a perfect time for a flare up - but Eddie’s already on the verge of sending everybody home just from catching one glimpse of your pained face.

“It hurts,” you moan, mostly to yourself. He shushes soothingly.

“I know, babe. ‘m sorry.”

“‘s not your fault,” you chide, smiling through the pain; he can feel the imprint of your little smile - the slight upturning of your lips that you can’t hold in despite your throbbing temples - against his shirt and he exhales amusedly. You’ve gotten pretty good at disguising the sheer amount of turmoil these headaches cause you, but Eddie knows - he always knows. You hiccup into his chest, the beginnings of tears only serving to amplify the ache and the ringing in your ears that increases with every loud noise in the cramped caravan.

Mike shouts something at Dustin particularly loudly and Eddie shoots him daggers.

“Everyone out!” he declares. “We’re not doing this tonight.”

“What?” Dustin yells in that high pitched voice he gets when he’s shocked; you wince, pressing cold fingers to your forehead, “We’ve been planning this for weeks!”

“I said out, Henderson.” Eddie grits out.

“No, he’s right,” you grumble, voice croaking as you hold in painful tears, “Can’t cancel the whole campaign cos of me.”

“Baby girl, I don’t care about the campaign. I need you to feel better first.” You don’t have time to complain before his hands are on your head, rubbing the gentlest circles into your sore spots. You close your eyes, stretching until your limbs are squeezed underneath his.

Everybody shuffles out reluctantly with one more piercing look from him and then it’s quiet.

So blissfully quiet.

Eddie reluctantly lifts you from his lap, opting to lay you on his bed in the next room instead. He fetches you a cold, wet flannel to press to your head, one hand holding it still and the other traversing your face, tiny droplets of water settling themselves in your dimples as you smile gratefully to your boyfriend.

“Good girl, princess. I know this is the worst, but you’re doing so well.”

“Cuddle me?” you murmur, eyes screwing shut from the glaring lightbulb. He immediately catches it, rushing to switch it off and instead use the dimmer lamp to illuminate the room.

“Yeah, ‘ve got ya.” He bundles you into his arms, mindful of your head as he waits for you to position yourself comfortably; the last thing he wants is to accidentally exacerbate your pain. You peel the flannel from your face and settle yourself in the juncture of his neck, kissing his jaw. His heart melts a little - even when you’re in excruciating pain, all you want to do is love on him.

“Didn’t have to throw everyone out, Eds. I feel bad,” you croak, slipping your arms beneath his shirt. You’re almost trying to crawl into his skin, needing to be as close as possible as your fingers draw soft circles into his back.

“I wanted to, babe. My girl comes first. Always,” his voice rumbles, “I want to be here to take care of you when you’re feeling like this, you do it for me.”

“Love you, Eddie,” you tell him, humming as he pulls the covers over you.

“Love you more.” He tucks the pair of you in, holding you tight to his side. “Go to sleep, see if you feel any better when you wake up, alright?”

“‘kay.”

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warmerstranger · 10 months

Note

Hii I loved that recent enstars writing you did so much! If I may request something like Mayoi and/or Koga going to try desserts with y/n? I have so much brain rot of these dorks lol ♡

- 🍰 anon

Piece of Bites

ft. Koga Oogami, Mayoi Ayase

alriighht, here's ur order thank you for waiting !! aha, sorry it took like a week, the procrastinating hit me so bad ...

°°``Marked as and included with: fluff! Mayoi being kind of obsessive tho, he means well <3 um is the favoritism too obv here...

[Koga Oogami]

🐺 The moment word 'desserts' are mentioned to him, his face would slightly scrunch like they're something repulsive to him. You must've picked the wrong person...

🐺 Yes, he just come up with the sweetest and cutest desserts imaginable especially if you talk about it and give them to him. He would have his tongue out in a disgust, flat-out refusing without any whiny complains before having you to enjoy it yourself instead. He would still keep you company by getting his own snacks to eat with, though.

🐺 Really, Koga doesn't have a particular grudge or some shitty memories going on against it, he won't go through the sweet aftertaste of eating them or feeling the soft texture melting on his tongue it's yucky. Those type of desserts aren't just for him. Just consider it, do you even think those things suit him? He literally keeps up a wild and rough image as his whole part of identity!

🐺 ...okay, since he's the tougher man and if you have begged enough or use the most effective puppy eyes at him, he would brave through them, the texture and taste be goddamned. They're nothing for him, he's no coward (in actuality if you bought them for him too, it would leave a more bitter taste in his mouth when he just refuse and let you give them to another person). He could sit down and wolf them down try a few bites all the while growling out of spite he has towards the poor desserts. In return you must have some grilled meat or something alike in advance to wash the taste off, especially along with some genuine acknowledgement from your own mouth.

🐺 If they are desserts that aren't sweet or fruity taste and more within a savory level... now they might be a whole different thing going on for him.

🐺 He would eat them and leave no crumbs (literal), expressing his satisfaction and all be referring them 'this rocks' or as 'the good shit'.

🐺 Just be prepared to face the next time he would share some meat with you to eat together. All a steak or barbeque session you're in for...

[Mayoi Ayase]

🦝 Crying, shaking, sobbing, he can't believe you're willing to be in precious moments like this with him..! It's as if he has gone knocking the heaven's door from how much bliss he's feeling he might just die happily.

🦝 While he might have some preferences, it doesn't matter much about how they taste, all that matters is the fact he and you eat them together! Especially if you pick them specifically for him, not even the delicious taste of desserts can outmatch his pleasure of your kind thoughts for someone as revolting as him...

🦝 Mayoi might offer to spoon-feed you or alternately taking turns trying your part while you try his. He's going feral just imagining the indirect kiss when you offer using your own or his spoon..!!

🦝 He's enjoying the experience overall with a bashful smile plastered and humming delightfully the whole time you would think it's because of the desserts since he's eating them happily when he's mostly focused on watching you eat or appreciating your company.

🦝 His rambling would be amplified, driven as the fuel by the desserts if they particularly leave him a satisfying taste. He feels like he can open up more to you.

🦝 He would make sure to let you know he's thankful and he would cherish this moment dearly for the time to come.

🦝 Mayoi wouldn't mind having desserts together with you again sometime! Very soon, preferably, he might even pick and bring your favorites next time.

#enstars x you #enstars x reader #enstars fluff #enstars headcanons #ensemble stars x reader #mayoi ayase x reader #koga oogami x reader #ensemble stars x you #enstars imagines

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eddiemunsonswhxre · 2 years

Note

ALSO would you be able to write something about just slow, sweet high sex with sub Eddie? Because right now it’s literally all I can think about, the way you wrote him just makes me want to take care of him he’s just so fucking cute 😭

Your Eddie deserves the world

i'll never get tired of sub eddie

sweet as sugar / eddie munson

masterlist

one shot

rated: m (18+, minors DNI)

cw: marijuana use, pet names, cursing, angst/sadness, mommy!kink, sub!eddie, praise, brief fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that), i refuse to use the word cre*mp*e but yes, soft ending

your sweet boy has had a bad day, so you decide to give him some new freedoms

eddie hummed as he sat at your feet, strumming his guitar as he tried to work on a new song. you were messing with his hair, braiding and unbraiding, stroking it, and brushing it through. it always helped to calm him down, and he’d had a particularly rough day today. he woke up feeling like all he wanted to do was stay home and cuddle, but of course he had to go to school. at least it was friday, so you were more than up to the idea of going home with him after.

eddie’s day was okay up until lunch. he was tired but that was about it. but of course, some basketball players decided to fuck with him when he wasn’t paying attention and threw a bowl of spaghetti at him. they also threw many insults at him as his eyes watered, because the messy spaghetti only hit his shirt. a shirt that you had gotten him a few weeks ago. it was white and had the latest black sabbath album cover on it and he loved it.

he left the lunch room in a rush, afraid to break into tears in front of everyone. you helped him clean up, but he spent the rest of the day in his gym shirt with tears threatening to leave his eyes.

suddenly, the strumming stopped and eddie huffed. “nothing sounding good to you, handsome?” you asked, pulling him back and pulling his bangs from his face.

he shook his head no, looking up at you sitting on his bed. “wanna smoke?” he mumbles.

you ruffle his hair, causing a small smile to coat his lips before nodding. “sure, bub,” you muttered, removing your hands and allowing him to get up. he puts his guitar back in its place before grabbing a pre-rolled joint from the canister on his dresser. he brings it over to you, sitting on his bed and leaning back so his back was against the wall.

after tossing him one of his many lighters, you twist, trying to crack your back. “y/n?” eddie asks in a fragile voice.

“what is it, bub?” you ask, looking at his sad expression.

a blush covers his face, so he takes a moment to light the joint. “want you closer,” he says after exhaling for the first time, his big doe eyes looking at you cautiously.

you immediately comply, moving to sit next to him, leaning into him. “pass,” you say, holding out your hand for the blunt. he places it between your fingers carefully as he lets his head rest against his wall.

“why are those douchebags so mean?” he mumbles sadly, almost so quiet you didn’t catch it.

you frown, coughing slightly as you exhale the smoke. “because they’re miserable with themselves, eddie. they don’t know what it’s like to be a good person, please, baby, don’t take what they say to heart,” you say, rubbing his chest comfortingly.

he frowned, taking the blunt back from you to take a hit. “i just… they said you don’t really love me,” he murmured in an ashamed fashion.

“you don’t believe them though, right?” you asked, worry flashing over your features.

eddie feels tears well up in his eyes and he almost wants to scream and hit himself for believing those fuckers for even just a second. “no, i mean- it just hurts to hear that, you know?” he responded, voice shaky.

you take the blunt from him slowly before reaching up and placing a kiss on his cheek. “i know, baby, i know,” you say carefully, reaching up to wipe a tear as soon as it falls. “but i love you, so much,” you reassure, moving his face to look at you.

“i love you too,” he says, giving you half a smile. the two of you smoke the blunt, passing it between you as you also share kisses and further cuddle into one another. the higher eddie got, the more cuddly he became.

when the blunt was gone, the two of you had moved to a new position. you were laying, barely propped up against the wall and eddie was laying practically on top of you. one of his legs was over one of yours and under the other, his head was on your chest and right above your breasts, one of his hands was fisting your shirt at your side while the other was by his face as he chewed on his thumb nail. your arm was around him, brushing your fingers over his shoulder while your opposite hand was laying on top of his. eddie had retreated far into his submissive headspace, and you sang lightly to him because you knew he liked it.

you didn’t know if he was in the mood to just be held or what, but every once in a while his hips would roll or jolt. “bub?” you question, stopping your singing.

he looked up at you, lips slightly wet with his spit from biting on his nail and eyes blown wide yet lidded over. “hm?” he hummed, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world.

his hips rolled once again which caused you to think maybe he wasn’t all that innocent right now. “are you horny, baby boy?” you coo, moving your hand up to brush his bangs back from his eyes.

eddie bit his lip before nodding. “yeah, but we can still just cuddle. i love your cuddles, sweetheart,” he hesitated. you smiled at his choice of nickname, he always used it when he was feeling super soft.

you shake your head at him and brush your thumb along his brows. “i know, baby. i like cuddling too,” you start. eddie’s eyes are trained on you, and it makes your heart flutter intensely. “but, if you wanna do more, we can. you wanna?” you push watching his eyes flash with need.

he nods, feeling your hand squeeze his. “can i touch you?” he mumbles, his lips in a sort of pout.

you smiled and moved his hand to hover your breast. “how about this, baby? today, you can touch me however and wherever you want,” you propose, which was different from usual. normally the two of you had rules, but eddie deserved everything right now.

“really?” eddie asks, unsure.

you watch his eyes travel to your tits, squeezing his palm experimentally. “really, bub. whatever you want, just tell me,” you confirm. eddie studies you for a moment to make sure but then he’s pushing himself up and peeling off his shirt. you sit up to do the same but eddie’s hand flies out.

you pause, looking at him as he falters, looking shy. “i-i wanna take ‘em off,” he stutters.

a smile of adoration spreads across your face. your baby boy was so sweet. “you wanna undress me?” you ask, liking the way his face goes red.

“you-you always do it yourself,” he stutters.

you chuckle lightly at him as he fidgets with his belt buckle. “you can do it, baby, i don’t mind. if you ever want to, you just gotta tell me that so i know,” you inform him softly. he kicks off his jeans, leaving him only in his boxers and he climbs on the bed towards you. when he reaches you, you reach up to grab him by the back of the neck and pull him to meet you.

you smile into the kiss, your soft lips against his slightly chapped ones as you kissed him slowly. “i love you, handsome,” you whisper before pulling him back in, trying to show through your kisses how much you really did love him.

eddie lets out a moan into your lips and his hands fall to the bottom of your shirt. he bunches it up, pulling away from your lips in order to pull it over your head. immediately after it’s gone, he’s leaning down to start placing soft kisses over the swells of your tits. “you’re so pretty,” he mumbles into your skin.

“you are too, baby boy,” you hum, tangling your fingers in his hair. he lets out a small whimper at the compliment, nipping at your chest. his hands travel to your back, fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra as he made a noise of discontent. “you got it, baby,” you coo, pressing a kiss to his hair. he finally unclasps it and pushes it down your shoulders, throwing it behind him.

he pulls back to look at you, ghosting his fingertips along your breasts. “m-mommy, can i touch?” he asks, shyly.

you grab his wrists softly, pressing his palms against your tits. “you don’t have to ask today,” you say, nodding your head. eddie immediately begins kneading your breasts, lip caught between his teeth as his dick twitches. his thumbs move to flick your nipples, rubbing them until they’re hard for him. he glances at you in question before remembering your words.

“lay back,” he mumbles. you follow his lead, situating yourself on his pillows. he leans down, wrapping his lips around your left nipple. a moan leaves your mouth as his fingers begin undoing the button of your jeans.

he makes quick work of pulling off your jeans and underwear, making you giggle at his eagerness. he removes his mouth from your chest, instead bringing it back up to meet yours. you hum with delight as you share a loving yet hungry kiss. eddie runs his tongue along the underside of your lip and his fingers begin circling your clit. a moan falls from your lips, muffled into eddie’s mouth. “so wet,” he mumbles before slipping his tongue in your mouth.

he skillfully glides his tongue against yours, his middle and ring finger traveling down and circling your entrance. “do it,” you huff, it barely sounding correct. eddie follows your demand as usual and sinks his fingers inside you.

your hips roll against his hand as he slowly thrusts his fingers into you, making sure your walls were prepped for him. he was conflicted, part of him wanted to take this slow and drag it out, but the other just wanted to fuck you.

his cock was begging for some type of friction, and having you under him in so much pleasure was doing things to him. “mommy,” eddie whines, not used to being able to make the decisions. he pulls back, looking at you with big puppy dog eyes.

“what is it, handsome?” you ask, holding the side of his face and rubbing your thumb over his cheek bone. his fingers were still curling inside you, causing you to shutter.

eddie pouts, looking down at your naked body. “wanna… wanna fuck you now,” he pathetically mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

you smile, grabbing the other side of his face and making him look at you. “then fuck me, baby,” you say sweetly. a whimper leaves eddie’s lips and then his fingers are leaving your body, moving back to remove his boxers. “c’mere, bub,” you say, holding your arms open. eddie makes his way between your legs, lowering himself as closely to you as he could as you wrapped your arms around him. the tip of his cock nudged your entrance as eddie looked at you with wide eyes. you nod, smiling and giving him a kiss on the forehead.

he guides his cock between your folds and then slowly pushes in. “oh, fuck,” he grunts, shifting his hips up as he hovers over you.

“you fill me up so nicely, sweet boy,” you moan as he continues sinking into you. his cock was so long and perfect for you, almost like it was made for your pussy. eddie moans, beginning slow and shallow thrusts. you pull him down further, his head nearly resting in the crook of your neck while you held his back and the back of his head.

his hair was tickling your neck, but you could barely focus on anything but the way his cock stretched you. “feel so good,” eddie moans into your neck.

your hips move slowly, meeting his thrusts each time. you were moving at the same slow speed, but it felt so good and so full of love. “i love you, sweet boy. you’re so perfect for me, yes, god, so perfect,” you moan in his ear as his hips jerk forward uncontrollably.

eddie’s eyes screw shut but he forced himself to keep the slower pace. “i love you,” he huffs into your neck, rocking into your heat.

“deeper,” you mumble in pleasure into his ear. eddie pulls his hips back so only his tip is left inside before pushing all the way back in. the both of you moan as his hips rest flush against the backs of your thighs. “good boy,” you say in his ear, pulling on his hair as he withdraws his hips again.

your praise causes him to snap his hips back into you as an uneven groan leaves his lips. “go faster?” he asks in an unsure tone.

you pull him back by his hair, causing his eyes to look into yours. “you can go faster, baby boy. mommy wants you to cum when you want to,” you say, stroking his hair comfortingly.

“m’want mommy to cum, too,” he says, picking up his thrusts ever so slightly.

your eyes close in pleasure as his words shoot to the building fire in your core. “then you can make mommy cum, you know how, don’t you baby?” you ask and he nods, eyes watering in excitement and pleasure. he moves his weight to one arm and moves his other hand to start rubbing circles on your clit. you moan, head falling back as your pussy clenches.

eddie studies you, your reactions egging on his release. “am i being a good boy?” he asks, breath raggedy as he picks up his pace.

“my pretty boy just loves getting praise, huh?” you joke, a moan interrupting the end. eddie whimpers, hitting deep inside you. “mhm, you’re such a good boy. mommy’s good boy. so good with your cock, so good with your fingers, fuck,” you moan, back arching as your words cause him to apply more pressure to your clit.

he watches you closely, love pouring from his eyes as he watched your reactions to him. “your pussy feels so good around me, fuck i wanna cum,” he moans, feeling the tension begin to build.

“want you to cum in me, baby boy. mmm, you’re so perfect. i love you so much, never gonna want anyone else. so good, so beautiful. fuck! yes! eddie, just like that,” you moan, clenching hard around his cock once again.

eddie feels his eyes water at your praise as he picks up his pace. “love you more,” he grunts, picking up the speed of his hips. he could see his orgasm coming, it was within reach. “please cum for me, mommy,” he whines, wanting you to cum first. he moves his fingers faster, simultaneously trying to hit as deep inside you as he could.

you closed your eyes, letting the knot begin to pull in your abdomen. eddie makes a noise of complaint causing you to open your eyes. “sorry, baby, keeping them open,” you say breathlessly as you analyze his determined expression. a tear fell from his eye making you concerned. “okay?” you ask, ready to reach down and pull his hand from you.

he nods, picking up the pace. “s-so beautiful, and- shit- fuck, i love you so much. shit- m’gonna cum,” he explains between moans. he ruts deeply into you, hitting that spot that sent you over the edge.

“fuck, eddie,” you moan loudly as you begin trembling. “eddie, yes, eddie, eddie,” you mumble as your high runs through your veins. you felt as though you were on fire, the pleasure stemming from your pussy and spreading everywhere.

eddie lets out a gasp as his hips stop. one spurt of cum coats your insides and then his thrusts become erratic. his fingers rub you through your high, and after he emptied himself of his cum he let himself rest against you. his forehead leaned against yours as you both fought to catch your breath.

“you’re so perfect,” you mumble, stroking his lip with your thumb. another tear falls from eddie’s eye and he presses his lips to yours.

when he pulls away, his lip is trembling. “i love you more than anything,” he admits in a shaky voice. you give him a smile, opening your mouth to respond but he keeps going. “i’m so afraid one day i won’t have you. please, y/n, sweetheart, please don’t leave me,” he begs.

your smile fades as you see the brokenness in his eyes. you pull him down, pouring as much love into the kiss as you possibly could. you pull away only slightly. “i’ll never leave you,” you say, and press your lips to his again. “i love you to the moon and back,” you whisper, connecting your lips to his. “a million times over,” your lips are back on his once again. you finally pull back, wiping his tears away. “you’re my everything, eddie. i love you and you’re never gonna get rid of me,” you confirm, tucking his hair behind his ear.

he dips his head down to nuzzle the side of his face against yours. he takes in a deep breath, just appreciating you being there with him. “bub?” you ask softly, causing eddie to hum in question. “you wanna get cleaned up, then we can cuddle and watch a movie?” eddie nods, pulling out of you with a wet sound and pushing himself up. you both shakily stand, cleaning yourselves in the bathroom before you found a movie.

eddie was already laying in bed in nothing but his underwear, his thumb nail in his mouth as he nipped at it. you started the movie on his small, shitty tv and then climbed up next to him, wearing only one of his shirts. “you like that today?” you ask as he snuggles against you.

“we do it again?” he asks with big eyes.

you smile and kiss his nose. “of course, baby. anything for you,” you coo. eddie gives you a tired but genuine smile before burying his head into the crook of your neck. it didn’t take long until he was peacefully snoring on your chest with his thumb in his mouth.

#stranger things eddie #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #eddie #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut

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bluedalahorse · 1 year

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Philosophies of Justice and Narrative Catharsis in Young Royals

Do you ever just have… conversations with yourself at 2 am?

Me: Wow. August did some bad shit. I want him to get therapy and help, but I also want him to face some kinda legal punishment.

Also me: Oh, self. You don’t trust cops or judges or prisons. The legal system would be way harsher on Simon about the drugs. Doesn’t that give you anxiety?

A third me, thousands of words in and possessed by a hyperfocus demon: Well fuck. We might be doing a meta about it. It’s okay, this can just be building blocks for our graduate school thesis on YA literature. Ahaha it’s fine.

The following meta looks at philosophies of justice, both retributive and restorative, as they appear in the worldbuilding Young Royals. This is a monster of a meta, like ~6500 words long, so be aware of that going in. Content note for discussion of all the usual crime topics in YR, as well as the injustices present in real world legal systems.

Intro: Shifting the Focus

Fandom loves discussing—and disagreeing about—the redemption arc. Who can blame us? As human beings, we’re wired to notice novelty, and redemption arcs involve a character experiencing some sort of dramatic transformation. This transformation could be gradually built up to for a series of chapters or seasons, or it could be sudden and jarring. It could involve one big dramatic gesture or a series of small changes. Whatever happens, fans end up debating what they see onscreen.

Now, I love a good discussion. I also love stories that poke beyond simple notions of good and evil, where characters are capable of change in multiple directions, And yet, as someone who has spent years in fandom, I increasingly find the discussion of redemption arcs unsatisfying and even boring. Everyone seems to have their own definition of what constitutes “enough” good deeds for a character’s redemption, and even their own opinions of who is worthy of redemption in the first place. It seems we can’t entirely agree on what the term means, and everyone gets bogged down in discourse.

At first, my dissatisfaction prompted me to ask what I considered a well-written redemption arc. Well, no, that’s not accurate. There was a little arrogant voice inside me telling me that I, the great bluedalahorse, who has devoted many hours of academic study to various literary texts and even made complicated spreadsheets to track ideas in my favorite books, could use my genius analytical skills to find out what a perfect redemption arc is supposed to look like and develop a formula for it. And then I stepped back and laughed at myself. Since when did good writing ever follow a formula? All the best writers know how and when to break the rules. Also, I am not as much of a genius as I think I am. I’m literally just hanging out here and overthinking my fictional faves like the rest of fandom.

A lightbulb moment switched on when I attended a workshop focused on restorative justice in schools, back in the summer of 2022. As I listened and processed the things I was learning, my storyteller brain kept poking me. Hey, it was saying to me. Heyyyy can we use restorative justice principles to write better character arcs? Particularly redemption arcs? I talked to my MFA adviser about this as we began to workshop ideas for a critical thesis in Young Adult literature. We started to explore the ways that restorative justice principles showed up in books like Patron Saints of Nothing by Randy Ribay and All American Boys by Jason Reynolds and Brendan Kiely. I got a little further along in my theories, identifying techniques authors used to show characters confronting their privilege, unlearning old behaviors, and making amends for harm that they caused others. Still, something was missing. I just wasn’t getting where I wanted to with my analysis.

A few weeks ago I had a second lightbulb: what if we stop looking at justice in relationship to character arcs alone, and start looking at worldbuilding?

That clicked. Oh, boy, did it click! You really can’t talk about characters without understanding their world. Once I attended a panel on writing villains, and one of the panelists asserted that you can’t develop your villain as a character until you’ve developed your world. (Whether villains are outcasts hellbent on revenge, or oppressive tyrants at the top of their society, their world plays a role in shaping them.) Since what we call redemption arcs so often involves taking a character out of a villainous space and into a more heroic one, naturally worldbuilding has to be a factor in that kind of story. I also realized that the framing of the “redemption arc” frustrates me because on some level, it’s still tied to the Western Christian idea of individual salvation. I didn’t want to necessarily focus on what what one character does or doesn’t do individually without also focusing on that character’s relationship to other characters and their communities.

So I decided to experiment with shifting the focus of my thesis research. There were only two things left to do: come up with a framework for exploring my ideas, and test those questions out on Young Royals. Because it’s my favorite show, and it has a lot to say about justice. That said, a lot of what I say here and the methods I use could be applied to other shows as well. I’m curious to hear what it might have to say about your other favorite works of fiction!

The Framework

After some drafting during early morning bus commutes, I came up with three questions I wanted to explore when looking at Young Royals and other texts. These questions are:

What is the authorial philosophy of justice? What principles of justice are at play in how the author constructs the characters, world, and storylines?

How is justice enacted (or not) through the legal system(s) in this story’s setting? To what extent do the ideals of that legal system match up with its reality? To what extent should they?

What are the individual characters’ experiences of justice in their day to day life? What social norms do they end up creating in their smaller communities to enforce their ideas of justice?

What I like about this series of questions is that it allows a text to speak in multiple voices. There has been a lot of fandom discourse over the last ten years (and even longer, honestly, this shit goes back at least to Plato’s dialogues) about authorial intent and whether depiction equals endorsement and so on. I don’t think I’m going to end those debates today. Still, I do think it’s worth pointing out that a TV show or a book or a movie is able to tell a story and make a point in a different way than an essay or campaign speech does. You can have different characters own different parts of the truth. A particular setting can be positive for one character and negative for another. Fiction is really good at exploring paradoxes, contradictions, and tensions. I created these questions because they force me to tease out the tensions in a narrative and where there might be meaning in them.

Come on, Blue! you say. We know Young Royals has a lot of tension in it. When are you gonna start talking about your fandom? Okay. Fine. I’ll get to the sad teenagers now. Put on your school uniforms, everyone. We’re going to Hillerska!

No Good or Bad People, Only Good or Bad Actions

The title for this section comes from me paraphrasing Omar paraphrasing Lisa in an interview.

Two questions you may have about this section are: 1. What makes authorial philosophy (a term I am pretty sure I just made up for the purposes of this meta) different than authorial intent? 2. What’s the relationship between the author’s philosophy and their worldbuilding?

To answer question 1, I am defining authorial philosophy for the purposes of this meta as what the author intends + how effectively they convey that through their storytelling and craft. So like, authorial intent, but we’re also holding the author somewhat accountable for how their message comes across. Generally I read Lisa and the rest of the team as pretty intentional in how they craft their stories, and I can see how their ideas play out in practice, so I am more likely to give credence to authorial intent. I might not do that for other authors. As someone who reads heavily in the YA novel field, I’ve seen plenty of books with surface progressivism that end up being kinda reactionary when you scrape beneath that surface. Usually it’s a craft issue or the author not being intentional enogh. Young Royals, so far, has not been that kind of text.

As for question 2, authors can use their worldbuilding to reinforce their authorial philosophy, whether that’s through having characters in the story espouse said philosophy, or by using the story’s plot and character arcs to test their story, or by some combination of the two. Lisa is a writer who affords her characters a lot of grace, but I also see her as willing to test that grace and our her personal philosophy on trial. She’s very aware that ideals don’t always match up with reality, and those tensions are part of what she explores so well in her writing.

Now that we’ve addressed those questions, let’s address the authorial philosophy of Young Royal.

Young Royals stands out from other school dramas because it handles nuance so well. But how do Lisa and her team achieve that nuance? Part of it is the way their approach to characters resonates with the philosophy of restorative justice.

Restorative justice can be defined as “a system of criminal justice which focuses on the rehabilitation of offenders through reconciliation with victims and the community at large.” This website has some additional information about what restorative justice looks like in theory and practice. (Plenty of other websites do as well.) Restorative justice is really hard to pull of IRL, but philosophically it does ask us to think about the ways in which more retributive and punitive justice systems are failing people.

Now, before I get too far into my explanation, I don’t know if Lisa chose a restorative justice approach to her writing on purpose, or how much she’s read about the subject. But a lot of what she prioritizes as a writer lines up with certain RJ principles anyway. For example, RJ practitioners believe that every human being has worth and dignity, and that leaning too far into a retributive justice model (more on that in the next section) can be dehumanizing for both victims and offenders. In Lisa’s writing, each character is humanized, there are no characters who are caricatures. Everyone in Young Royals has their own reasons for behaving why they behave—even when they make choices that harm others. There aren’t excuses, but there are explanations.

Two other important ideas in RJ are accountability and dialogue. Season 2 of YR deals a lot with the question of accountability. Wilhelm’s positive growth is signaled by his willingness to be accountable for his actions; August’s more tragic arc is characterized by his baby steps toward accountability followed by his dramatic backflip away from it.

Regarding dialogue, Wilhelm’s growth is fostered by important and vulnerable conversations with others. Sometimes these conversations are with the people he harmed or impacted in a negative way. He and Felice have to talk their way through the weirdness of that kiss, while he and Simon have to talk about… well, everything. TBH they’re not done talking yet. But they’ve started, and that’s where the progress and catharsis is happening. Other times, Wilhelm’s conversations with other members of the Hillerska community—Nils and Boris come to mind—help him to see things in a new light and clarify his ideals. When we cheer on Wilhelm as he comes to better understand his privilege in the world and the weight that his actions have, we’ve been enlisted by Lisa to support restorative justice philosophy.

No one character represents Lisa’s philosophy entirely, because she’s so committed to all characters being fallible in their own ways, but I would say that of the main cast, the Eriksson siblings and Felice are the most likely to express different parts of restorative justice philosophy. All of them strive to look for people’s human side instead of relying on stereotypes. They want the people close to them to be accountable for their actions. They talk things through. They recognize the needs of multiple people in a situation. This doesn’t happen all the time, with every person, in every instance. They get distracted and led astray. There may be times where it would benefit them to get outside help and they don’t. Sometimes their efforts blow up in their face. But they’re trying, and I think Wilhelm has definitely joined them by the end of season 2.

So sure, all the characters in Young Royals might brush up against the principles of restorative justice, but they still “live in a society” as we may or may not still say on the internet. In order to understand more, let’s talk about the legal system as it’s presented in the show.

Call Your Lawyer Stepdad

As a writer, Lisa may believe in restorative justice principles, and this likely guides how she depicts the characters in her story. The legal systems she depicts in her work, however, are not restorative. What’s more, they are applied unequally based on the identity of the person who breaks laws or rules. Young Royals is very clear about the distinction between the ideals of the law and how the law actually gets enforced.

Obligatory disclaimer: I’m not a law student or someone who’s studied much comparative politics, so I can’t say for sure whether Sweden’s legal system leans more retributive or more rehabilitative. I also can’t say whether the ideals of its legal system match its reality, but I am making a safe guess that they don’t entirely. (Sweden, my ancestral homeland, I love kanelbullar and ABBA, but your current right wing government and your response to the COVID pandemic and your history of colonization, among other things, shows that you are just as capable of bullshit as any other nation. Forgive me if I approach your legal system with caution. If anyone from Sweden or another Nordic country has more info and can weigh in, feel free to weigh in.) It’s also worth mentioning my own preconceived notions here. I live in a country with a massive mass incarceration problem and a legal system that was specifically created to reinforce white supremacy, so my trust in law enforcement and courts and the like is… not high.

What I can say about the legal system in Young Royals is this: the writing of the show primarily focuses on the retributive aspects of the legal system. In a retributive justice system, those who break the law are criminals, and they are punished for their crimes. Punishment is seen as a way of deterring crime and keeping it from happening in the future.

We see the impact of a system like that when legal consequences motivate characters and the choices they make. Simon is afraid of getting caught and prosecuted for bringing drugs into school, while August fears being put on trial and imprisoned for leaking the video. What’s interesting to me, though, is that it isn’t just that both characters fear punishment. They also fear the stigma that comes with being publicly convicted of a crime. Simon doesn’t want to be stereotyped as the poor kid who comes into school and pushes drugs on the rich kids. He knows how dangerous drug addiction can be from witnessing his dad, and he brings the drugs into school out of financial desperation. August, meanwhile, wants to think of himself as an untouchable elite who is discreet about secrets, and probably (more sympathetically) also wants to think of himself as a relatively helpful guy who showed Wilhelm around school and took care of him the way Erik would have wanted. I think it’s very clever how Lisa had Simon and August each break the law in ways that betray their respective core values, because it brings this issue with a retributive justice system to light. Once someone has committed a crime, how do they move past that stigma and make themself into the sort of person who doesn’t do a crime again?

This leads to another issue with retributive justice. We often equate legality with morality subconsciously, but these two ideas are not the same thing. In August’s case, leaking the video is easy enough for us to label—it is both illegal because it is against the law and immoral because it violates Simon and Wilhelm’s right to sexual privacy. Simon bringing in his dad’s drugs—that’s against the law, sure. But is it immoral? Simon is up against a corrupt teacher who rewards students who can pay more with better grades. He needs to pay for tutoring if he want to succeed. He’s at a disadvantage because of his socioeconomic status, and he also probably hasn’t had time to process trauma around his dad’s addiction. From the point of view of a Hillerska parent, however, they’re just going to see Simon as a threat to their kid’s well-being.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Simon’s reasons for breaking the law are absolutely more sympathetic than August’s reasons. I cannot stress this enough. We see the way the system screws Simon over, and how it drives him to do what he does. Simon gets drugs to students who consent to take them, but when August films him and Wilhelm it’s without their consent. Moreover, August is complicit in Simon’s lawbreaking because he ends up being the guy who sells drugs on Simon’s behalf. (Jesus, August, sell a painting or something.) But who is the legal system in the YR universe more likely to give grace to? August. Who is it more likely to come down hard on? Simon. Simon does not have the wealth to afford a trial. He doesn’t have a lawyer stepdad on speed dial. He doesn’t have an in with the media like the royal family does, so he can’t control the public narrative of his life the same way that they can.

On a purely literal level, August dangling the threat of the pill bottle in front of everyone is the most textbook example of August being a little shit. On the thematic, level, however, this reminds us who the justice system really serves. It’s a caution against relying on the justice system—or at least relying on the justice system alone—for narrative catharsis in this story. Instead, we should be looking for narrative catharsis elsewhere. And, we should definitely be looking at more than one character arc if that is the case.

The Only Person You Can Truly Control Is Yourself

While season 2 includes the retributive justice of the legal system as part of its worldbuilding, we also see Wilhelm embody the philosophy of retributive justice through his actions. Wilhelm starts his arc in a place where he wants to punish August for what he’s done by taking away everything he cares about. He justifies this by pointing out the problems with the legal system—rich kids never actually face the consequences of their actions. While Wilhelm is correct to call that out, he ends up transforming himself into a more extreme agent of the retributive philosophy in order to pursue what he sees as justice.

Now, this is a writing gambit that could have failed spectacularly. We’ve all seen versions of the “if we are awful to our enemies, we’re just as bad as them” story that end up reinforcing an icky status quo. But that’s not exactly what happens in Young Royals. The first thing to notice is that Wilhelm’s approach works… initially. August has lost a lot at the beginning of season 2, part of it due to Wilhelm’s efforts, and that’s made him more willing to reflect and be vulnerable and listen to Sara when she tells him he can preserve his self-respect by turning himself in. I actually don’t think Sara’s being entirely naive when she points out that January August would have turned himself over. The problem is that as January August becomes February And March August and starts to gain new things to protect (an in with the palace, a new relationship with Sara) he becomes afraid of losing everything again, and starts to go back to his old ways.

The other thing to notice is that Wilhelm mostly acts alone. Felice is his confidant, but she’s not working alongside Wilhelm, suggesting they swap out August’s hair products with toothpaste. (I kinda wish she would have, though.) In spite of the fact that the video probably hurt Simon even more than it did Wilhelm (reminder: Wilhelm has access to a press team and hired security that let him walk away at first) Wilhelm doesn’t center Simon in the process of doling out punishment. He does it with the best of intentions—he doesn’t want Simon getting hurt—but that moment where Simon’s like “You did ALL THIS TO HIM when we could have reported him together???” Yeah. That’s extremely valid. And it hints at one of the central ideas of s2—yes, dealing with August is important, but priority number one for Wilhelm is Wilhelm taking accountability for his own actions (denying that it was him in the video) and making things right with Simon in that way. With that relationship restored (see what I did there? restorative justice?) they can lean on one another as they slay their next monster. At the end of the day, the person who Wilhelm has the most control over is himself. That’s why we end season 2 on him making the speech and publicly acknowledging his relationship with Simon, not with the arrival of cop cars at Hillerska.

Speaking of the choices Wilhelm decided to make, I invite Young Royals fans to consider how Wilhelm’s role as crown prince give his actions symbolic weight. The royal family may not have real lawmaking power, but they’re still supposed to represent Swedish values and traditions to the general public. If Wilhelm starts pursuing a kind of justice, then he’s making a statement about what justice looks like in Sweden whether he wants to or not. If he had shot August in the field, that would have been more than a murder—symbolically that would have been an execution, in a country that banned capital punishment in the 1970s. (Then again, Stella and Fredrika would probably be okay with that.)

I want to make one more point here as I transition into the next section. I don’t think Lisa is necessarily saying that August shouldn’t be punished or face consequences for his crime. But I do think she’s being very clear that a retributive justice philosophy is going to hit marginalized people without the resources to defend themselves—people like Simon—a lot harder. And that opens up the question of where we’re supposed to find catharsis. Can we really exhale at the image of jail cell doors clanging shut, knowing that this same legal system can come for Simon using the same tools? If Simon somehow manages to evade prosecution, can he ever really find relief? How long will that last? What’s to say the system won’t screw him over in other ways, and what’s to say that other rich kids won’t get away with what August did, or worse?

It would be one thing if a crime only harmed the individuals involved, but restorative justice philosophy reminds us that this harm also impacts communities and involves communities. So, without further ado, it’s time to zoom in and examine how justice plays out (or fails to) in the Hillerska community.

Snitches, Stitches, and Scapegoats

In the microcosm of Hillerska, students have organized their own justice system in miniature. Conformity gets rewarded, while open nonconformity gets ostracized. While there is some understanding among the students that individuals will deviate from heterosexual, traditionalist, rich kid norms, this deviation is generally only tolerated when students do it in secret. In this climate, Hillerska students do a lot of self-policing. Stella and Nils cover up their sexualities in ways that may not work for them long term. Felice frets about her physical appearance and how people will perceive her if she pursues boys a certain way. You get the picture.

Because of the pressure to maintain a pristine image of the school (gotta make those admissions brochures look sparkly clean!) the student body as a whole sweeps crime and “deviant” behavior under the rug by closing ranks and agreeing not to snitch on one another. The elite status of Hillerska students allows them to get away with a lot their public school peers would not. While gossip flourishes within Hillerska’s walls, woe betide anyone who lets it escape into the outer world.

On occasion, there are crimes that can’t be covered up, and it may be that more than one student is involved. We’ve seen what happens in this case. Hillerska students do not collectively assume responsibility, but instead agree upon a narrative about what happened and choose a scapegoat to pin the problem on. We see this most clearly in episode 1.5, when Alexander is found with the drugs that the Society used for their party. August suggests they pin the drugs on Simon, while Wilhelm breaks with tradition and says Alexander should take the fall, because Alexander can easily bounce back from an accusation like this. Sure enough, Alexander is back at Hillerska next season, far less innocent than before and far more likely to engage in political intrigue. Wilhelm’s considerations about how Alexander can more easily absorb the blame for the drugs are well thought out and in some ways compassionate—and we’re happy to cheer him on for defending Simon and to some extent we should. However, Wilhelm’s willingness to participate in the scapegoating system backfires on him nonetheless, and also entrenches him in one of the most toxic parts of Hillerska culture. He’s cut off one hydra head and two new ones have sprung up to take it’s place.

One obvious danger of scapegoating is that innocent people are often blamed for things they have nothing to do with. We’ve seen this negatively impact Simon on the rowing team and elsewhere. Vincent makes Simon the scapegoat for the rowing team’s loss in episode 2.3 and uses it as an excuse to bully him. Simon doesn’t get to sing his solo because people will recognize him from the video and that will affect the school’s image and the royal family’s image. Simon is innocent in these areas, but he’s being made to take on blame for situations that are a lot bigger than him. Of all the individual students at Hillerska, Simon’s probably getting the shortest end of the stick, and that’s directly related to the fact that he lacks privilege.

Feeding the Myths

There’s other ways to make people symbols of crime or deviance, however, that can damage the fabric of social groups in other ways. Since scapegoat isn’t quite the right term here, because it tends to presume innocence rather than superlative guilt, I’m going to borrow some season 2 language and refer to this as the Worst Person in the World Phenomenon. Now, this is where I’m going to go out on a limb a bit and ask a question the show might not engage with in season 3. They might do it. They might not. It may be beyond the scope of the story Lisa feels she is able to tell. I’m going to ask this question all the same:

If August faces public consequences and punishment for leaking the video, what impact will that actually have on the culture of Hillerska students? Will it prevent such a thing from ever happening again? Will it at least encourage self-reflection?

You could argue that a high profile case like August’s could deter his classmates from engaging in harmful behaviors. He may affect some students that way. I mean, what he did is Very Bad on the Bad scale. You might even call him… the Worst Person In The World. Who would want to be like the Worst Person In The World?

The flip side of the Worst Person In The World phenomenon is that can actually discourage people from taking responsibility and holding themselves accountable. Because gosh, what I did isn’t that bad. It’s not serial killer bad, or Vladimir Putin bad. Do we realistically believe that other students at Hillerska aren’t doing problematic things? That the rowing team has zero boys who will show a topless photo of their girlfriend (without her consent) to some of his bros while they chuckle over it? That some of the girl groups aren’t spreading wildly inappropriate and homophobic rumors about classmates that seriously damage reputations? That kids aren’t paying one another for test answers or putting pressure on one another to unsafely experiment with alcohol and drugs, even when students express boundaries and don’t want to? That kids don’t collectively work to bully teachers at times? And generally the kids aren’t getting in trouble because they’re the children of rich, elite parents, who will grow to be the rich people who run the systems and structures in society for the next generation.

Now, none of the Hillerska kids (that we know of) are doing bad things on the scale that August did when he leaked the video. This is important to stress. But it’s also important to stress that this “getting away with bad behavior” culture of Hillerska and rich people in general is part of what made August who he is. Are the other participants in that culture willing to reflect on that and actively work to change the culture in question?

Again, this does not mean that August shouldn’t face consequences or punishment, or that he shouldn’t go to prison and undergo some sort of rehabilitation. There are excellent reasons for him to face consequences. He did revenge porn FFS. But I think it’s worth acknowledging that the punishment of a very obvious, high profile offender can feed the myth that the legal system is finally working toward justice when in fact the system is continuing to perpetuate injustice. We can see how this works when only a few select predator men were convicted to placate the #MeToo movement, we can see how this works with corrupt cops when only a few who kill are ever convicted but most get away with it, and we can see how this works with political parties taking advantage of the fact that other political parties are, well, worse.

And yes, don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good, no ethical consumption under capitalism, etc etc. I think we can keep that in mind while also keeping in mind that we still bear a responsibility to Do The Work in whatever way we are able. This is wandering off of Young Royals a bit. But I’ve given a lot of thought to the way we point at glaringly bad examples of human behavior and say “at least I’m not that guy” while not really doing the reflective work about what we can do to be better and how we can change our culture and systems. This kind of rhetoric is what allows people, especially people like the Hillerska kids who are at the top of society and the peak of privilege, to sleep at night. And maybe they shouldn’t be sleeping so well.

I think a lot about how the scene with Sara warning August that Simon is going to call the police (which is about Sara giving August one more chance to embrace accountability) is followed by a scene of Henry showing up to his group project meeting with no work done. Henry might not have done his work on a literal level, but as a symbol, he’s doing a lot of work. Not only is Henry foreshadowing that August isn’t going to do the right thing and turn himself in, he’s also lampshading the broader culture of Hillerska itself. For all the fancy plaques about responsibility, the students use their privilege and power to avoid doing what’s right and keep the status quo going. This is who they are. This is what they are going to have to overcome to be ethical humans who make their world better.

Working for Catharsis and Healing (A personal opinion section)

I don’t make predictions. The idea of making predictions for season 3 is in fact pretty stressful for me. But what this intellectual exercise has opened up for me is a question of where I would find catharsis and healing in the narrative. It’s not in the sound of police sirens. Maybe that’s different for you. That’s okay. I think we can learn a lot from the discussion in question.

Let’s start with the obvious jerkface himself and the question of him facing punishment. I think it’s worth separating August from other people for a time, to prevent him from doing additional harm to others. If we’re going to call that prison, then sure, let’s call it that. But let’s unpack what that separation looks like. In order for Wilhelm and Simon (and Sara and Felice for that matter) to heal, they’re going to need to be away from him. They should not be the ones responsible for his rehabilitation. As a restorative justice nerd deep down (at least, mostly, but fictional teenagers are well within the broad spectrum of people I’ll offer grace to) I still think he deserves a chance to heal from at least his drug addiction and his eating disorder and his trauma over his dad’s suicide. I also think he needs to understand accountability and the impact his actions have on others, and needs to learn to act in ways that repair the harm he’s done and prevent future harm. This is what he owes the world. There’s not time enough for us to see that whole journey, but I feel like the writers could show us the first few steps.

I’ve seen some people try to argue that August can’t change because he didn’t respond enough to Sara treating him like a person. I can see their point, and I can see the show using the Sara subplot as a shorthand for the idea that August can’t change. Writers often have to use that kind of shorthand to make a point about a character. (The relationship between redemption arcs and romantic love is one of my ongoing problems with redemption arcs in fiction, just for the record.) The way I see it, though, Sara is just one neurodivergent girl with a family history of abuse experiencing her first romantic love. She’s not a team of trained mental health professionals and social workers and other help-minded adults who’ve studied up on how to de-program systemic nonsense. After all, we can accept that although Simon loves Wilhelm very much, Simon’s efforts alone weren’t enough to fully dislodge Wilhelm from his place of privilege. Wilhelm needed Boris and therapy, and a mom who made him go to therapy (Kristina often does more harm than good, but her making Wilhelm go to therapy is the broken clock being right twice a day), and Felice as a friend and confidant, and Nils as a different sort of confidant, and a literature teacher like Fröken Ramirez who’s assigning him books with queer representation. Wilhelm’s journey is still ongoing. Romantic love may be transformative, but individuals in love don’t change people on their own. Communities change people. I am an aromantic relationship anarchist and I will die on this hill.

Speaking of the Eriksson siblings, I want Sara and Simon to have a chance to repair their relationship and build it anew. This would be another point of catharsis for me. I’ve seen a lot of people saying “Sara needs to do xyz tasks…” like we’re in a confession booth and a certain number of Hail Marys will save the day, but step one is that Sara and Simon just need to start communicating again, and communicating honestly. I think it’s easy to point to August as being the root of their relationship struggles, but there were a lot of unspoken tensions between the Eriksson siblings long before he entered the chat. They would have had some other falling out even without Hillerska. Simon’s been led to believe he should parent his sister, and Sara’s been convinced she’s a burden to her brother forever. They both are still reeling from trauma related to their dad, and it may need that they need different things to heal from that. Even without all that, they’re both maturing and defining their values and exploring romance for the first time, and Sara’s getting friendships of her own without always tagging along with Simon and Rosh and Ayub. Simon and Sara are getting to the age where they may not always be the most important people in each other’s lives, and they need to learn to grow up without growing apart. That doesn’t always happen automatically; it takes self-reflection and commitment and listening. I don’t think we’ll ever be back to the innocent days of Sara teasing Simon about his fairy tale prince. But I do think they can move their relationship forward in a new direction, and bounce back stronger.

I also think both Eriksson siblings need to come to terms with the fact that they violated their own values. Sara didn’t do anything illegal, but she did do something that violated her own morals, and you can tell that she feels pretty awful about that when she’s alone on the bus and driving away from school in 2.6. As for Simon, I don’t know if he’s fully gotten a chance to sit with the fact that he violated his own values when he brought his dad’s drugs to school. Again, I don’t want Simon to have to go through legal trouble, or deal with the prison system. The legal system is stacked against Simon in ways that are not fair. But Simon values accountability, and Wilhelm basically rescued him from being held accountable in season 1. I imagine that’s caused cognitive dissonance for Simon he’s still sorting through. I wonder what that’s going to be like for him.

On Wilhelm’s end, I’d like him to continue growing in the ways he’s grown in season 2. He’s learned not to be a symbol of extreme retributive justice. What would it look like for him to model restorative justice practices instead? (Note: this doesn’t mean that he personally has to forgive August. That’s entirely up to Wilhelm.) How can he encourage his community to act differently?

For Felice—well, one of my few issues with season 2 was how they handled Felice, and how they made her ancillary to others’ arcs instead of having her own, but that’s a post for another time. All the same, I think Felice is learning to trust her instincts, push past her biases, and take a unique point of view on things. She’s able to look at the video and see the broken pixels rather than the scandalous gossip scene everyone’s talking about. She can sense Sara’s hiding a secret from her and knows Sara needs to talk. Even if the conversation they end up having is deeply upsetting for her, it brings truths to light that need to be shared. Felice doesn’t have every tool in the toolbox yet, but what she observes and how she interacts with people can be helpful in delivering justice.

I don’t have meta space to consider every parent and adult on the show and things they can do differently. But I expect in season 3 we’ll start to see some adults (I don’t think it’s likely that we’ll see all of them) consider the roles they play in perpetuating systems and cycles. At least, I hope so. It shouldn’t be all on the young people to achieve change in society.

As for the Hillerska culture, it needs to change too. It’s worth asking if a place like Hillerska should even exist. Every secondary Hillerska student is going to act a little bit differently in response to the events of the plot, and I don’t know if I’d buy it if the show tried to tell us the Hillerska culture changed overnight in a magical ripple of self-consciousness. We might see individual students taking baby steps toward responsibility and liberation here or there. We might just see status quo as usual. I think of all the threads in this story, this is the one I would be okay with seeing Lisa Ambjörn leave things unresolved or in a place of tension, as long as that tension feels intentionally placed. Because changing the world is hard, and not everything changes all at once.

Young Royals doesn’t have to tie up every loose end by the last episode of season 3, but I do think it’s already raised a lot of questions about the relationship between justice and storytelling and where we find catharsis in fiction and our own lives. These questions are worth us considering, even if the answers point toward all the work that still needs to be done for the future.

#young royals #young royals meta #my meta #simon eriksson #wilhelm young royals #august young royals #sara eriksson #felice ehrencrona #long post #holy crap this is long thank you if you read it

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