#thought my thing was too long but it’s only 4 pages on Google docs so

[mci-writing]

Warmth (Midoriya Izuku x Reader)

Warnings: Obsessiveness (near the end), implied major character death, reanimated corpse (it’s Deku), necromancy, Deku is the equivalent of Frankenstein’s monster kinda, a little ooc, mentions of pain, descriptions of skin burning (not exactly but yeah idk how to explain it)

Kofi

Viridian irises glance over the form laid before them, a longing sigh passing through chapped lips and landing on deaf ears. Fingers, cold to the touch and tinted blue from lack of flowing blood and oxygen, slide across the small expanse of exposed (s/t) skin, the thumb stopping just under a closed left eye and softly, lovingly, tenderly rubbing the area. It leaves the warmest goosebumps, so warm it should ache, dulling once the contact is distanced.

Whispers of ‘patience’ sound through the air, chilling down to the bone and causing him to pull away out of instinct. The reactions of those around him tell him that they aren’t really there, but he can’t help his response after being told such for so long. For so achingly long.

“Deku-kun,” He feels himself straighten at the voice beside him, a hand setting itself at the small of his back. The thumb rubs small, circles in an attempt to soothe his worrying, “If you keep tugging at your lip like that, you’ll rip it off.”

He becomes self-aware of his habit after his companion points it out, cheeks warming as he quickly lets it go. He wets his lips with his tongue after, teeth grazing over the bottom one as they pop out. He’s unable to stop the awkward chuckle that follows or the way his eyes flit from those around him to the body on the table.

“I’m sure (L/n)-San wouldn’t mind reattaching it once they wake, Uraraka-San,” Todoroki stands near the door, his eyes never straining from beyond the frame as he speaks to them. It’s hard to miss his tense demeanor from where they’re placed, one of his fangs pointing past his lips.

Izuku feels himself sweat at that, a wobbly smile forming on his face as he brings his full attention back to the other members of their group. The best he can manage out is a small “T-Thanks, Todoroki-San” as his hand connects with (Y/n)’s and laces his fingers through theirs.

Silence fills the room again after that. Midoriya can hear his heart racing and feel (Y/n)’s faint pulse. They pump in tandem together, like always. Yet, it does nothing to ease his fears. He knows that spell they cast was powerful, but they’ve been out for a few days now. The only reassurances he’s received of them still being alive was the small noises they’d make as they rested, the way their hand tightly holds his each time he holds it, and the addictive burn he receives with each touch to their skin.

The book of necromancy did say that some spells would be harder to cast for users with less experience, but Midoriya didn’t realize that translated to needing to rest for so long to regain the little strength of power (Y/n) knew how to use. He would’ve tried harder to suggest something else for their escape.

“Oi, Deku!” The rough voice of his childhood friend wakes him from his thoughts, his thumb and forefinger making themselves known on his lips as they tightly squeeze from the small jump he makes. He’s being side-eyed by shades of crimson, but not many would catch the soft worry behind them, “Me n Shitty Hair’s got the ship waiting at the dock. Cargo truck’s outside.”

Emerald eyes meet the fiery shades, an understanding spoken between them that only their little bubble could process. Without a beat, Bakugou comes forward and lifts the end of the slab they're laying across and Todoroki is quick to grab the other end. They load it into the cargo truck's trunk, careful to ensure they're strapped down in the back before Todoroki hops out. Midoriya watches on, eyes longing for the warmth he’s just lost.

~~~~~

The car only holds four people, debatably three if you wanted to argue whether or not Midoriya could still be counted as human in his current form. He was undead, that much he could confirm from the way his body had been stitched together and the ice cold feeling of his skin when he wasn’t within a certain proximity of (Y/n). He was something like Frankenstein, but the context seemed less science fiction and more fantasy. He had no clue why he had been brought back to life, just that he had been. (Y/n) and Kacchan always avoided the question when he’d ask how he’d died.

That’s another thing, it’s always the three of them. Even now, only Kacchan and (Y/n) were going to board the boat with him. Kirishima was only here to take them there and back.

His gaze pans away from the passing scenery outside to the body pressed against his. His cheeks warm as bright a red as they possibly can at the proximity, yet he can’t force himself to move away from the burning sensation of their skin touching. It hurts in the nicest way possible, making him feel way more alive than he thought possible. It’s why he thought he had just woken from a long sleep instead of immediately thinking he’d come back to life, the warmth too comforting for him to question anything at the time. Both of his companions joked about it being out of character for him.

He takes in the low rise of their chest and the serene look of their face. It’s one of the very few times he hasn’t seen them worried out of their mind since being brought back to life. He’s tried not to keep count of their smiles, one of his favorite aspects about them. If with their lips held in a neutral shape, he’s fighting the urge to kiss them until they swell.

He feels himself warm more at the repeated thought of laying a kiss on their unconscious form. He should be ashamed, but he’s been wanting to be intimate with them for a while now. It’s gotten so bad he gets a little jealous when he catches them and Kacchan away from him, whispering between themselves in a bubble of their own that he feels he won’t fit in.

That thought sours his feelings a little, especially when he knows he could never take them from Kacchan and he could never take Kacchan from them. The idea of them moving forward without him, leaving him out, and further pushing him away from the picture he'd perfectly fit in before his current state, gives him a deep pit feeling in his chest that he doesn't enjoy dwelling on for too long.

But right here… Right now…? He could just give them a quick peck and pretend it didn’t happen. No one would know… Unless they woke up from it or something…

He weighs his options, emerald eyes measuring and tracing the outlines of your lips. He has vivid memories of the one time he managed to get a kiss from them, in the dead of night when the only witnesses aside from themselves were the twinkling constellations. He doesn't remember how long ago it was, but he can perfectly picture the sight of them shyly smiling, their face warm, and (e/c) eyes dilated like a super moon. Their lips fit perfectly against his, slated and locked like they were meant to be attached for eternity, and delectably soft like fresh baked goods straight from the oven. He'd press his lips against them as much as he possibly could, suffocate against them even.

The cons would be them waking and beating the shit out of him... Or Kacchan catching him and beating the shit out of him...

Midoriya leans forward, hand burning as he cups their cheek. He rubs his thumb against their skin as his lips finally meet theirs again. It feels like home, his lips feverishly sucking against the plump flesh like he'll never be able to do so again.

He pulls away once he realizes he's being too greedy, too desperate. He sucks in a deep breath, the butterflies rising to his chest as his heart pounds against his ribcage. He can feel the warm honeydew in his cheeks, worsening when his eyes dart up and meet a certain pair of crimson ones. They stare at one another for a moment, but Midoriya can't read what Bakugou is thinking at all. Bakugou sends him a small smile, or something close to it. His lips quirk upward on one side before he turns back to the road. Kirishima is talking about something, but he's obviously not paying attention.

"'Zuku?" The soft call of his name has him looking down, meeting the dazed stare of (Y/n). They're still relatively exhausted from their overuse of magic, a bit of light missing from their pupils. They press their cheek into his hand, the bags under their eyes heavy, "Are we... heading there?"

"We're going to the dock right now, (Y/n). Kacchan's in the front seat and Kirishima's driving us there," Midoriya informs them, voice low as to not cause them any discomfort. He knows they typically suffer from headaches after too much use of their necromancy abilities, "I'm sure you should be able to rest a bit longer-"

"No, no," They begin to sit up, getting a grip on his shoulder and using it to push themselves up. They let go and force themselves to sit up on their knees, getting in a position where they can easily look out the window, "I have to check that... we're not... Not being..."

Their voice trails off as they grab their head, another splintering headache racking their body from the sudden movement. Midoriya is quick to grab hold of them, leaning their body against his. Gravity lays them back across his lap, their face pressing into the fabric of his shirt while they close their eyes. Out of instinct, he presses his fingers against the nape of their neck, slowly sliding them upwards to press at various spots in the back of their head.

"No one's following us, (Y/n). We made sure of that..." He murmurs, pushing their hair out of their eyes. His hand eases down the side of their face, fingers hooking under their chin and pushing it up so they can see him better, "Get your rest."

"Izuku...," They stare at him for a moment, different emotions flashing through their (e/c) eyes. One of their hands reaches up for his cheek, the flesh feeling as if it'll catch on fire at any moment. They pull away too quickly for his liking, the same stricken look reaching their eyes like every other time they touch him and they're reminded of their afflictions. He's heard them apologize to him in the late hours before.

With little thought, he grabs their hand and presses it back to his flesh. He feels just a little closer to being human again at the touch. He nuzzles into their hold, keeping eye contact with them and watching the confliction beyond their irises. He doesn't care about the way his body screams to flinch away from the heat, pressing more into it as opposed to as opposed to running from it. He tightens his hold when he feels them try to tug away from him.

“Izuku, stop. You’re hurting yourself-,”

"No, it's okay," He responds too quickly, leaning into their touch. He presses his ear to their chest, listening to the steady beating of their heart and the movement of their breathing in their chest. The heat isn't as excruciating, simmering to an addictive warmth adjacent to bodies entangled in a hug. It crawls over his skin and wraps around him like a blanket, "Everything is okay..."

He never wants to leave from (Y/n)'s hold, (Y/n)'s warmth, ever again. He doesn't know how he could ever live without it, especially not now when the cold is even colder than before...

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #this is based on a Horikoshi sketch from a year or so ago and a WEBTOON I was obsessed with at the time #there’s some Bakugou x reader and bakudeku x reader if you squint #original draft had them very poly coded and it might still be there whoops #also slight Yandere!Deku at the end whoops #erm here’s your Halloween special for the year 👉🏾👈🏾 #I will hopefully be back shortly with another piece ✌🏾 #I mean it bc I have a few requests I actually like that I’m working on and a big fic that’s been years in the making #the big fic probs won’t get any notes tho 🫣 #tumblr did not like this one 😭😭😭 she wouldn’t save it was crazy #thought my thing was too long but it’s only 4 pages on Google docs so #shawty was tripping #yes I did listen to Frankenstein the musical while I wrote this wdym

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: I haven't written anything for like, a week now? I mean, nothing substantial. I started this 4 or 5 days ago and dropped it until this morning where I finished the last 3-5 pages. Anyway. I never write "Asshole Draken" because I really just don't see him pullin' that shit. But we all have bad days. And I guess this was one of his. But don't worry, it turns out so, so good (I think).

C/W ::: Asshole Draken x F.Reader, saying mean shit to each other, without saying too much, he gets a teeny itty bitty bit physical with her but that's all. He doesn't hit her so don't be completely deterred by this if that's what you were thinking. Uh, M->F and F->M Oral. Slight face-fucking, name calling (but it's ... ok? Idfk. Shut up.) I proofed this once cuz I got a sick kid that wants me to play roblox with her so I gotta go do that. If I missed anything shoot me a message and I'll check it out. I hope you guys like this!!

WC ::: 3,314 *roughly 8 pages on Google Docs* Sorry not sorry it's so fucking long.

He sat in the corner of the garage, working in near total silence on his bike. 

You came over today because he invited you. You thought it was going to be fun, sitting in there with him while he fiddled away with the machine. Boy, were you wrong. 

He was quiet for the most part. But when he did speak, he had nothing nice to say to you. He was really short for someone who was so much fucking taller than you.

You looked over at him, watching as he pulled the old engine out of the bike. He had a rag in his mouth and grease on his face. His hair was messy and his eyes were focused on the task at hand. You admired that determination. Still, you couldn't figure out what the hell his problem was.

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms over your chest. A question sat on the tip of your tongue, threatening to pass the closed threshold of your lips and enter the shared space. God you wanted to talk to him. Maybe you could help him find out what was wrong with the bike. You knew a thing or two about mechanics. Sure, not as much as he did. But a second set of eyes and hands rarely did more damage.

But then, the question died on your tongue. Because you knew why he didn't want your help. You're not even sure he wanted you there. You stood and headed toward the door to the house. Then and only then, did he finally speak up.

"The fuck you goin'." He said quietly.

You turned around and glared at him. "What?"

He set down his tools and pulled the rag out of his mouth. "Said, where you going? You're supposed to be helping me. You said you’d come over today so you could fucking help me with this goddamn thing."

"Helping you? Helping ...? Ken, you won't so much as even look at me. You haven't smiled at me, you barely said hi when I got here. And you're pissed at me?"

Ken stood up and walked over to you, towering over you as he wiped the grease off his hands. "I asked you for help and you said yes. I didn't ask you to just sit there and look pretty. Speakin' of, what the hell you wearing today, anyway? Is this supposed to be cute or somethin'?"

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, I am just here to look pretty, Ken. I'm not here to do anything else. I'm not here to actually do anything."

Ken took a step back and scoffed. "Are you serious right now? Are you really just gonna act like this? You don't wanna be here. I can see that. You can leave, g'head. Get out."

You stepped away from him and squared your shoulders. "Fffffine." You challenged. "Your wish is my command, my King." Turned away from him now, you muttered under your breath what a dick he was being and how you didn't know for sure if he wanted your help today with this. If you had known, you wouldn't have dressed the way you did.

"Sorry? Did'n hear ya jus’ now. What was that?" He said it louder than he needed to. 

You spun around and met his gaze with your own. "I said, you're being a dick."

"Well, if the shoe fits, babe. And you're being a bitch. So, let's just wear these shoes, eh?" He shot back. “Let’s wear these shoes and jus’ walk away from each other.”

You were both silent for a moment. The air between you thick with tension. You could feel the anger bubbling up inside of you. Who the hell was he to speak to you like that? You came here to see him and he was treating you like shit.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to hit him. But you didn't.

Instead, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the garage, slamming the door behind you. He yelled at you to come back but you ignored him. You were done. Done with his shitty attitude and his shitty behavior.

Grabbing your jacket and your purse from the couch, you threw them both on and headed for the front door. You could hear his footsteps coming from the laundry room into the kitchen and sooner than you expected, they were right behind you.

"Jus’ gonna leave, huh?" He growled. "That's it? You're gonna walk out of here and leave me to finish this stupid fuckin' thing on my own?"

"You don't want my help, Ken! You don't even want me here right now! You've made that painfully obvious. So ... yeah. Yeah. I'm going to go. And you can call Mikey and have him suck you off while you two idiots do whatever it is that you do when you're toget---"

He grabbed you by the jaw and brought his face down to yours. "You … don't fuckin' talk to me like that. You understand? You're the only one who sucks this cock. An' right now I feel like you should be doin' a lot more of that than mouthin' off to me the way ya are. Gettin' on my las' fuckin' nerve righ' now, princess."

You looked up at him, shoving his hand away from you. "Ken." You said softly.

He pulled his hand away from your face and took a step back. "Mm? ... Ya got somethin' to say? There's a surprise."

You shook your head and bit your bottom lip. "I'm ... I didn't mean to ..."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you're ... what? You're sorry now? You always know the right things to say to me at the right times, don't ya? Yeah, yeah ya do."

You nodded. "Yeah. I guess."

He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "So, what? You're gonna come back ...? You gonna help me with this goddamn thing like I wanted ya to? You think I want you here now after ya actin’ like such a shit?"

"Oh my fucking god, Ken. Make up your mind, would you? This conversation is like watching someone on a swing that's out of control. I don't know which way to look and I'm getting nauseous. Just fuckin’ …tell me what you want." You rolled your eyes so hard at him it felt like you pulled a muscle in your socket.

"Tch. There go ya world famous eye rolls again. You look like ya do when 'm fuckin' ya real good. You're good at those." He smirked. "You're so goddamn dramatic. Always making a scene. Just come back here and help me with this thing. I'll even let you hold my big, heavy tools, k, princess?"

You stood there, arms crossed over your chest. You were ready to throw hands with him if he said anything else. But he didn't.

Instead, he walked over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. He kissed the top of your head down to your neck and whispered an apology. You could feel his breath on your skin and his body pressed against yours. You couldn't believe he was acting like what happened didn’t just happen between the two of you. 

"What the hell was that, Ken? You're such a ... a ... an asshole!"

He chuckled softly and kissed you on the lips. "I'm sorry, baby. You're right. I am an asshole. But you make me crazy, ya know? Ya little hissy fits irritate the shit out of me sometimes 'n I just explode."

You shook your head. "I don't want to be the one who makes you explode, Ken. Not like that, anyway." You giggled. "That's not why I came over today. I came here to help you. But I didn't even get the chance to. You didn’t give me the chance to. You were in a bad mood when I got here."

"We’ll get back in there and you can hold my tools like you always do. And I'll show ya what to do. Deal?" He looked down at you with a soft smile.

You smiled back. "Deal."

"Think you needa learn a little lesson about how you need to not take that bitchy ass little tone with me, hah? Follow me, now."

You watched Ken walk away and disappear around the corner into his bedroom for a second before what he was implying was registering in your brain.

"Oh. OH, shit." You caught up to him and found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his coveralls pulled down to his waist, he was leaning back on his hands. A vicious smirk set on his lips.

"Yeah, 'Oh shit.' Come here, brat." He reached back and took his hair out of its braid and tossed the tie onto the bed.

You walked over and stood between his legs. His hands were on your hips, gently caressing the  silky fabric of your dress. You were already wet for him and he knew it. It was written all over your face. The way your hips swayed when he touched you. 

"'M sorry I said what I said about what you're wearing today. You look really fuckin' sexy. It's distracting. I think you should take it off f'me." He gestured his hands downward, "C'mon. Get outta it."

You smiled and slid the straps off your shoulders one at a time. Then you slipped the dress down to your ankles, exposing your tits and pussy to him.

“No panties today, hm? You really had no idea I wan’ned your help with the bike?” His eyes were glued to your body. He stared at the roundness of your belly, rubbing it with the palms of his hands, sliding them around to the fattest part of your ass. He squeezed it gently and pulled you toward him, placing kisses on your stomach, moving down to your pussy.

His stubble tickled your skin as he kissed you. You sighed as he slipped his hands between your thighs and spread your legs apart a little more.

"What's this?" He dipped his fingers into your pussy and pulled them out, pressing them against his thumb again and again, holding them up to your face to show you how wet you were - like you were completely unaware of it at this point.

"You know what that is, dummy." You threw your head back, forcing your chest out a little bit more.

He laughed. "Yeah, I know what that is. What I don't know is why. Why ya so goddamn wet when you were just so fuckin' angry with me a minute ago. You like it when I yell at ya?" He was teasing, you knew he was. But his expression was anything but playful.

You shrugged. "It's not like I want you to be mean to me, Ken. But, I do … I kinda like the way you get when you're mad. It's ... hot."

Ken rolled his eyes. "Of course, course ya like it ... little freak like that. Just like when I fuck you hard and call you names." He licked his fingers and grabbed up your ass with a loud smack, making you yell out and jump closer to him.

You nodded. "I can't help it. I like it. And now? Well, now I know you like it too. You wanna fuck me like that, don't you? Fuck me hard and make me scream? Tell me what a perfect little slut I am for you? Tell me what a horny little bitch in heat I am? Fuck, Ken." You lowered yourself down and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. You could feel his hard cock strain against his clothes and he winced as you ground against it.

"Can't help it. You look at me an’I get wet sometimes. Can't fucking stop it. It's like my body is under your control." You whispered. "You know what I like."

He looked up at you with a wicked grin on his face. "Yeah, I know what you like. You like to be told what to do. You like to be bossed around. You like when I put you in your place, princess. An' I'm gonna do that. Righ’ now."

He stood, hoisting you up with him and turned around. Facing the bed, he lowered you down onto it. "Fuckin' slut. Startin' a fight with me just to get this cock. Tch. You asked for it, sweetheart. Fuckin' asked for it today ... 'n you're gonna get it." He shoved his coveralls down the rest of the way, leaving his boxers on and climbed down between your knees, kissing your thighs softly.

He rubbed your pussy with his fingers, ghosting them around your clit, teasing you, making you buck your hips up into his hand. He held your legs down with his other hand and sneered. "Did I tell you to fuckin' move like that?"

You raised your head off the pillow and looked at him, "N-no. Didn't."

"Sorry? N-no? N-no WHAT?" He mocked.

"NO SIR, you didn't tell me to move like that. 'M sorry." You smiled.

"Good girl ... learnin' fast. I like that. Good fuckin' girl. Keep it up, keep learning, keep behaving for me." He leaned down and kissed your pussy softly, moaning quietly into you.

"Hngh, fuck, Ken. Wanna move, please lemme move!"

"Mm-mm. No. Did'n tell ya to, did I? Hold the fuck still, princess." He smiled that smile at you and you could feel your cunt clench up immediately.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, Ken." You whined. "I w-, I want it, fuck, please."

He sat up and shook his head. "Nah, nah. Not yet. You're gonna have to wait for it. Be patient."

You groaned and slammed your head back down onto the pillow. "Ken, please. I can't wait. Please, please, please ... fuck you. Holy shit."

He laughed harder than you thought he should have. "F- ... fuck me? You come over here and get all uppity and have the audacity to say that to me. Goddamn it. I don't understand why you keep making me teach you these lessons, baby girl. It's like you need to be taught the same shit over 'n over 'n over again."

You couldn't speak. You could barely breathe. You were so worked up and so ready for him to fuck you relentlessly. But he wouldn't. Not yet. You had to wait. And that was driving you crazy.

"Fuck, Ken. PLEASE. Please fuck me, fuck me. I wanna ... ngh ... you ... so fucking bad. Please, fuck. Ken. PLEASE." You begged.

He chuckled and stood up, motioning for you to take his boxers and pull them down. "Fine, fine. Since you asked so nicely." Take 'em off." You sat up and pushed his boxers down with both of your hands and kissed your way down his abdomen until they were all the way off and his cock slapped against your chin.

You took it into your mouth and sucked on it, swirling your tongue around the tip and then taking as much of it down your throat as you could.

"Fuck, fuck ... that's it, that's it ... suck that cock, suck thatttt cockkkk baby." Ken growled. He pulled your hair back and held it tight in his fist, moving your head up and down on his cock. You moaned and choked, your eyes watering as he fucked your face.

"Mmmm, fuck, you like that, don't you? Like when I fuck this pretty little face of yours. Fuck, it's so fuckin' perfect. Fuck, baby. Look at me, look at me." He lifted your chin and forced you to make eye contact with him. He groaned as you whimpered.

He let go of your hair and backed away from you, standing at the edge of the bed. "Get over here."

You crawled over to him and sat up on your knees in front of him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.

"Suck that cock s'more, baby. I want to see that make-up fucking ruined on that sweet face of yours."

You took him back into your mouth and sucked him harder, faster. You moaned and whimpered as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock.

"Good girl, g-hah fuck-good fucking girl. Righ' there righ' there righ' there FUCK ... fuck yes."

He held your hair back and thrust into your mouth, making you gag a little on it. You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face. His eyes were closed and he was panting heavily. He was close. You knew he was close. You felt his cock begin to twitch against your tongue as you doubled-down on your efforts. 

He pulled out of your mouth and turned you around, bending you over the edge of the bed. He rubbed the head of his cock up and down your pussy, teasing you, making you moan and cry out for him.

"Ken, Ken ... ple- goddamn it! Ken, pleeeaaase." You whined.

"Mm-hm mm-hm, beg for it, bitch."

You both stopped and stared at each other when he said that.

It kind of surprised you. The both of you.

He furrowed his brows and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He couldn't think of anything to say after that.

You had never been more turned on than at the moment.

You jumped up and quickly positioned yourself over his cock, sitting down just enough that you were sure he could feel you as much as you could feel him. Both of you pulsing over the touch of the other.

"Ken, Ken ..." you whined against his lips.

He kissed you and pushed your head back with his hand, forcing you to look up at him. "Mmm, fuck, baby. What do you want? Tell me what you want, slut."

You moaned at that and sunk yourself down onto his cock, taking him all in at once. "Wan' this, fuck ... wan' you s'bad."

"Yeah, yeah ... you fuckin' do. You want me to fuck you so hard you can't fuckin' move anymore. That's what you want, right? That's what you want, sweetheart."

It was not a question. He flipped you over and onto your back and he began fucking you at a brutal pace. "Fuckin' wanna get wrecked by this dick. Gonna get so fucked out you can't do anything but drool. Fuckin' slut. Fuck ... fuck yes."

You could barely speak. You couldn't form a coherent thought. All you could do was moan and whimper and whine.

He fucked you so hard and so fast, you weren't sure how he was able to keep going. He leaned down and kissed you, his tongue in your mouth, his cock in your pussy. It was bliss.

You screamed out and he bit your bottom lip, growling at you, "Fuck! Fuckin' love it when you scream like that, baby. Keep doin' it, keep cryin' 'bout how good I fuckin' feel n’side of you."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and held onto him for dear life as he fucked you into oblivion. He was relentless and unforgiving. You could feel him tense up and you knew he was about to cum.

He groaned loudly and thrust into you a few more times. You could feel his cum rush into your deepest places. He collapsed on top of you and you both gasped for air.

"Holy shit, Ken. Jesus fuck." you said through deep breaths.

"Right." He chuckled. "Gonna have to be an asshole more often."

You reached down and pinched his ass between your thumb and index finger.

"Hey! The hell ...?" He kissed the tip of your nose. "Did'n mean it. I know better 'n that."

"Yeah, don't forget who this pussy is attached to, princess." You laughed and shoved him off of you so you could help him finish the work on the bike before the day was over.

@kazutora-kurokawa @ryuuc00chie @katkusuo @darkstarlight82 @viburnt @southside-otaku @arlerts-angel

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo revengers smut #tokrev smut #draken smut #draken #ken ryuguji #ken ryuguji smut #ryuguji ken x reader #draken x reader #draken x you #draken x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #ken ryuguji x reader #ken ryuguji x you #ken ryuguji x y/n #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x y/n

[douglysium]

Episode 6 TMP Quick Thoughts

Housekeeping and Prologue

Hello, this is Douglysium and you might not know me as that guy who wrote over 100 pages of analysis on the Eye (which can be read on Tumblr here (https://douglysium.tumblr.com/post/735599414228484097/the-relationships-between-the-dread-powers-the) or Google Docs here (The Relationships Between the Dread Powers: The Eye- Knowledge is Fear and Ignorance is Bliss)) or as that guy who wrote an article on the Extinction (which can be read on Tumblr here(https://douglysium.tumblr.com/post/717929126195003392/what-would-avatars-of-the-extinction-be-like-a) and Google Docs here(​What would Avatars of the Extinction be like?: A TMA Speculation)). Suffice to say I might be a bit of a TMA fan. Also, spoilers for TMP up until episode 4. You can read my ramblings on the last episode here (TMP Quick Thoughts 5).

However, Protocol offers a very unique opportunity and experience for me because I didn’t actually get into TMA until after it was over and I binged all of it. So this is my first time experiencing something even remotely similar to what the original TMA fans probably experienced when waiting for each episode week by week and slowly having to put everything together with the limited information they had. So I decided to throw my hat into the ring since this might be my only chance to do something similar. However, I’m working on some longer form TMA content so I can’t spend as much time on these articles giving a bunch of super detailed thoughts. I will try to keep these short and that inevitably might mean some could have questions about why I think or predict certain things and in those cases I would probably recommend you read at least some of the two articles I mentioned above to get a better idea of where I’m coming from. This also means I won’t be giving you a play-by-play of every single thing that happens in the episode so I encourage you to listen to or read them yourselves and feel free to comment if you feel something is important.

These reviews are probably going to end up focusing mostly on the Entities and their manifestations as they are what I have thought about the most and spent the most time interpreting and there’s been a lot of… interesting theories floating around about how the Entities are manifesting that I want to go over.

Finally, I’m just going to say it right now, spoiler warning for all of The Magnus Archives. I know that Jon and co said one could start with Protocol and be fine, and while that’s probably true, media like this tends to be made in conversation with or take into consideration what came before it in the irl chronology in order to connect them. While I’m sure you could skip The Magnus Archives, I don't really see the point of skipping over it when we are already getting characters from TMA showing up in TMP in Protocol. So to me it’s pretty clear that if we want to understand the full picture of TMP and all the things it is trying to say then we can’t just try to pretend TMA doesn’t exist or scrub it away. Just because you could understand what’s happening without the context in broad strokes doesn’t mean you're getting all the nuances.

These articles are meant to be quick and short so sorry if there’s typos and if I don’t address every possible question or possibility. I don’t want to repeat myself too much in this series outside of the prologue so be sure to skim some of my other articles.

Episode 6 “Introductions”

Like usual, we are perceiving the scene through a device (a computer in this case) to let us know something is watching the characters. It’s very obvious that with Sam’s talk of coffee and the commentary on getting curtains that this job at the O.I.A.R. has a lot of work hours at very odd or long stretches of time. The way Alice talks implies that she’s been in similar situations at this job, so it doesn’t seem like the extreme exhaustion Sam is experiencing is completely unusual or unheard of. Sam is so tired that he is struggling to stay awake and has dozed off at least once at his desk. Highlighting the O.I.A.R.’s stressful work conditions we hear of a new hire and Alice says “...but this job has kind of a high turnover rate, so Lena likes to hire a couple of replacements when an old-timer leaves.” This also contextualizes Sam’s hire a bit since it would imply that Sam was hired because a previous employee left. 

Whether they left simply due to stress and terrible working conditions or potentially something even more sinister and possibly even supernatural I cannot say. In TMA it wasn’t unheard of for Archival assistants (like Sasha and some of Gertrude’s assistants) to get killed or seriously wounded after some encounter with the supernatural due to the nature of their job. Even Michael ended with the terrible fate of somehow being merged with The Distortion and potentially also dying in a way in the process. However, based on how Sam’s job has been going so far there haven’t been any direct encounters with the supernatural due to the O.I.A.R. and we have yet to hear if the organization has some dangerous artifact storage and testing facility like the Magnus Institute did.

ALICE 

“Oh Sam. The sun is the enemy. It rules the world of light but we who dwell in darkness feel only its wrath. Get the curtains.”

And

ALICE 

“Then we draw lots and one of you gets eaten at the Christmas party.”

These do sound like concepts that could relate to The Dark and The Flesh so it’s possible that this could be some weird foreshadowing or dramatic irony or Alice is coping with vague concepts she’s heard before in statements by joking about them. But even I feel like this is really REALLY reaching here and I don’t think Alice is an Avatar or some secret double agent. There’s also nothing to suggest she is particularly aware of the possibility of Entities and if anything she is sort of in denial about the statements or believes them to not be real so I don’t think Alice knows what The Flesh is or something.

When Gwen is asked about the new hire she seems pretty confident that they aren’t sticking around which points to how stressful, possibly unhealthy, or potentially even dangerous, the O.I.A.R.’s job actually is.

The statement we get in this episode is interesting because it’s another one where the computers themselves aren’t reading the statements. This time it’s audio from an emergency hotline between an operator and someone the transcripts dub as “Needles.”

Describing what happened here is actually going to be a bit difficult but Needles calls the emergency line (999) and we are quickly made aware that Needles is with someone else. When asked for details about the situation Needles says “You’ll have to forgive him, he’s full of needles at the moment.” At first this sounds like Needles was just torturing this poor guy but we later hear

POLICE OPERATOR 

“Are you in any danger?” 

NEEDLES 

“(Amused) Me? Gosh no! No. I suspect he thought I was at first though. The way he postured and pulled out his little knife”

Which seems to imply that in actuality it was Needles who was attacked first. However, it is very clear that they are enjoying the torment of his assailant at this point and when they realize that calling the line didn’t immediately give away their location they say “Wonderful! I have longer than I thought. In that case, we’ll have a little natter at our end and call you back once we come to a decision about which service.”

After a weird and quick conversation Needles requests to get transferred to the police line and begins talking with a police operator. The description of what happened here is purposefully a bit confusing and vague. The way Needles puts it, the man postured and pulled out a knife (so Needles was probably being robbed or attacked) but they also say “Although I really wouldn’t go so far as to call him an attacker. In fact, in many ways it was an act of affection by the end. An embrace. A cuddle, even! Ha! Yes, let’s call it a cuddle.”

After being asked if they are in any pain Needles says “Of course it hurts, how couldn’t it? But I’ve come to rather enjoy the pain by now. All those teeny tiny holes bright and sharp… ” And when asked about the state of the man that attacked Needles we get.

NEEDLES 

“I doubt he’s going anywhere ever again.”

POLICE OPERATOR 

“Is he breathing? Does he need an ambulance?”

NEEDLES 

“Absolutely, but that isn’t the real question, is it?”

When Needles is asked for a location so that an ambulance can be dispatched we get-

NEEDLES 

“I know exactly where I am. I grew up here, you know. It was a decent place back then. Nice people lived here, you understand? Not like now. Now it’s a dreadful place. Not safe to walk at night. I take some pride in that, actually.”

POLICE OPERATOR 

“Sir, I need an address or a landmark. Tell me where you are.”

NEEDLES 

“Oh the land is definitely marked now, same as me, and it feels good. It satisfies in a way I never really thought anything would. It fills that hollow, lonely hole inside quite nicely. It’s not sadism, or masochism, I tried both of those already. I think it’s the fear, the look in their eyes once they realize their mistake, it just makes me want to hold them close, so I do.”

There’s been a common theory going around that the Entities are based on desire now instead of fear but Needles saying “It’s not sadism, or masochism, I tried both of those already. I think it’s the fear, the look in their eyes once they realize their mistake...” I think basically confirms that it is still the fear that is most important since if it was merely desire than sadism or masochism probably would have worked according to Needles. Additionally, we later see Needles trying to scare the police operator and get this exchange. 

NEEDLES 

“Do I frighten you? Mr. Operator.”

POLICE OPERATOR 

“Is that why you called? To try and scare whoever picked up?”

NEEDLES 

“Call it desert. But you’re not afraid are you? Unsettled, off-balance but nothing more. Why is that?”

POLICE OPERATOR 

“I guess I’m just not scared of needles. “

NEEDLES 

“(irritated) Not sca- This isn’t some poxy blood test, some little pinprick, this is hundreds, thousands of razor sharp points pushing into your flesh. We’re talking about the embrace of an iron maiden, an excruciating agony formed from a thousand tiny hurts.”

This isn’t any different than all the various Avatars from TMA harvesting fear for their Entities and draws comparisons to when Simon Fairchild asked Martin if he was afraid of rollercoasters for example. 

If we go back to the first quote, I mentioned that the comment about the land being marked is interesting. Usually, phrases like “marked” are used to refer to people who have been marked by one or more Entities due to an encounter or marking them as a target. However, there is a precedent for Entities having a strong connection to places. The Domains are an obvious example but there’s also the way Smirke’s architecture can interact with the Entities and the Entities themselves often physically manifest as places. It is possible to physically enter The Lonely or Buried through various means. We also know that The Web spent a lot of time around Hilltop Road making the gap in reality bigger and bigger. Maybe the place Needles is referring to has been marked as some sort of “hunting ground” for the Entities or maybe it is near the gap in reality / where the Entities emerged from in this universe. Assumedly, just because the Entities were pulled through the gap that wouldn’t mean it magically close.

Between the first and last interactions I mentioned the police operator tries to pass this situation off to his supervisor but Needles says “(suddenly sharp) If you leave this call I shall embrace him again and I sincerely doubt he would survive. (returning to jocular) You know what? I’d like to change my answer. I did stab him, yes. I certainly repositioned myself to 

make sure he got some in his face. In his eyes. Does that count? He keeps touching them like he’s going to be able to pull all the metal out but I told him it will only drive them deeper. It won’t last too long, thankfully, he’ll finish bleeding out any minute now, but in the meantime that fear wafting off him as he lies there, half afraid of death and half afraid of living with what has happened to him. It’s quite delightful. And it drowns out the aftershave nicely.”

With this Needles finally seems to manage to get a little bit of fear out of the police officer.

NEEDLES

“You don’t believe me. Yes, I suppose that makes sense. It is somewhat outlandish and that’s only exacerbated by the distancing effect of the phone. Yes, the more I think on it the more obvious it is that this call was never going to give me what I was after. I wonder, though, which of the police contact centres you’re hiding in Hendon? Lambeth?”

POLICE OPERATOR 

“Excuse me?”

NEEDLES 

“Lambeth, then and I am sure I could recognize your voice now.”

NEEDLES CONT’D 

“Ah, there it is. There’s the fear. Not much, just a little prick but we found it in the end, didn’t we?”

POLICE OPERATOR 

“I’m transferring you to my supervisor now.”

NEEDLES 

“Then I’ll be going. I’ve no interest in speaking to them, and besides, we agreed that if you left the call my friend here would have a last little cuddle before I go. I do hope speak again soon Mr. operator, see if we can’t find some other frightful little pinpricks we can explore together…”

And the victim of Needles is presumably left to his fate.

So what actually happened here? I don’t think we are going to get any straight concrete answers for a while but it seems like the gist of what happened is that someone tried to rob or attack Needles with a knife and somehow (in a rather confusing event) the assailant ended up hurt instead of Needles. Well, actually it does sound like Needles could’ve been stabbed since they say “Of course it hurts, how couldn’t it? But I’ve come to rather enjoy the pain by now. All those teeny tiny holes bright and sharp… ” However, there’s a bit of word play going on here so Needles could be talking about the knife sure but more likely it seems they are potentially talking about the Needles.

The two main possibilities I think is that Needles is referring to the pain the man is in or they are referring to somehow inserting the needles into themselves or experiencing it. They do mention that masochism doesn’t seem to have the result they were looking for (implying they may have tried it) and masochism is defined as “the tendency to derive pleasure, especially sexual gratification, from one's own pain or humiliation.” and “(in general use) the enjoyment of what appears to be painful or tiresome.” Masochism tends to refer to inflicting pain on one’s self so could it be that Needles is implying that they have experimented with inserting needles into their own flesh?

Either way it ends with Needles hugging the man and sticking him with a bunch of needles. I don’t know if Needles became connected to one or more Entities in the moment of the attack or was somehow messing with the supernatural before this event via something like an artifact, encounter, specific ability, etc. and just now realized that fear was the key or if Needles gained the ability during the attack and was experimenting with how it worked as he tortured the man. Needles does say “Now it’s a dreadful place. Not safe to walk at night. I take some pride in that, actually” which could imply he might have something to do with the night becoming less safe. Maybe he was attacking people in the night and experimenting with either his abilities or something else?

I’ve been a pretty big advocate for the theory that Smirke’s 14 (with the potential addition of the Extinction but that is more up in the air) are still around to some capacity and most if not all their fears are still applicable to all of the statements up until this point but this is by far the vaguest encounter so far. Needles shares many traits that could apply to multiple Entities for different reasons. The needles could easily be the influence of a fear like The Slaughter or even Desolation, and how confused everyone seems could point to The Spiral while Needles’ ability to magically know the police operator’s location resembles The Eye and Avatars like Jonah and Jon’s ability to magically know things. If this event is taking place at night The Dark could be at play and Needles mentions “Now it’s a dreadful place. Not safe to walk at night. I take some pride in that, actually.” even though the time and area at which this encounter is taking place seems unclear. There’s a possibility for The Flesh with themes of body horror. Needles notes that the needles dig deeper into the man whenever he tries to pull them out, which is probably the needles reacting to the fear present or trying to draw as much fear as possible out of the man desperately trying to pull them out.

Is Needles some kind of Avatar? Maybe, but it’s hard to say. As Jon in TMA pointed out the term Avatar, Monster, etc. in TMA can be extremely vague and nebulous and bleed into each other as they aren’t perfect little boxes. An Avatar seems to be a person who grows close to an Entity and becomes favored by them and is thus granted various abilities at the cost of being tied to the Entity. They tend to be stronger than the normal person but grow weaker if they don’t feed their Entities with the proper fear for a long period of time. Some might even die from “starving.” Jude Perry describes it as being akin to the idea of “Feed it, fearlessly and without hesitation, or it will feed on you.” Becoming an Avatar is stated to require an active choice and some sort of death be it literal or symbolic (so like an ego death I assume?). It’s also clear that while becoming an Avatar requires a choice it doesn’t need to be a well informed choice. That is to say it’s not like the Avatar needs to know what Entity they are signing up for or even that the Entities exist. Not to mention they don’t need to know exactly what an Avatar is. So it’s possible to become an Avatar without realizing it.

Monsters are basically actually part of a specific Entity. They are kind of like an Entity’s “fingers” or some other body part if those parts were actually sentient. The difference between an Avatar and Monster is that Avatars tend to be more like people empowered by and addicted to / reliant on an Entity while Monsters are actually an aspect of their respective Entity. 

Someone who is marked by an Entity is usually someone who has basically been marked as prey or had some sort of direct encounter or contact with the Entities.

Being aligned with an Entity seems to just refer to someone one or more Entities like or favor (as seen with Martin being favored by both The Eye and The Lonely. So much so that he got his own Domain tied to both Entities in the Post-Change world) and in the case of monsters and artifacts it just refers to the Entities they are tied to or come from. This can also get weird since while we usually only think of Avatars, Monsters, and Artifacts as having powers Martin was able to gain abilities from The Lonely despite not being an Avatar. Additionally, the position of Archivist grants a person in that position a specific set of powers whether or not they are an Avatar. For example, Gertrude was not an Avatar and still had powers granted to her by The Eye (even if she didn’t like to use them) and Jon had some powers even before he became an Avatar.

Of course, the lines between these concepts can get vague and debatable. Especially since some Monsters can take the form of humans or show human emotions (such as the Distortion) and when Anabelle transforms into a spider she seems to be more like what many would think of as a Monster, and The Web is presumably the only thing keeping her alive (since apparently the skull of her human form was caved in). There’s also certain characters like Agnes who would technically seem like an Avatar or person but becoming an Avatar requires a choice and it seems like Agnes was granted her state via a ritual from the Cult of the Lightless Flame and the choice of her mother not herself. However, we see with characters like Martin and Gertrude it is possible to have powers without being an Avatar. We also see with Jon that you can have powers due to being aligned with an Entity and then become an Avatar later. So in all likelihood Agnes became an Avatar later in life after she was born aligned with or favored by The Desolation. In fact there’s a pretty good argument for this when you consider that Agnes and Jon both have similar roles as being the lynchpin for the rituals of their respective Entities and Jon didn’t start out as an Avatar either.

I was originally going to have a segment where I go over what Entities Needles most likely belong to but I’m drawing a bit of a blank. If I was forced to choose I would probably say something like The Spiral, The Flesh, or Slaughter. Is Needles just someone aligned with multiple Entities or is it just some weird overlap multiple Entities share? Maybe trying to view this interaction through the Entities is itself an act of hubris but it also wouldn’t be the first time a more nebulous manifestation has happened. I would go as far as to say that if there was one encounter that could debunk all my previous points it would probably be this one, but like I said before I would personally argue that it isn’t any more or less vague than what we have seen of the Entities in TMA. 

Is it possible Needles is somehow connected to every Entity? I mean theoretically that’s not impossible? In order for Jonah’s ritual to work he needed every Entity in it (including the seemingly clashing ones like The Vast and Buried / Eye and Stranger so while it might be tempting to say that it’s not possible for them to coexist in such an alignment we know that even seemingly clashing fears can have more overlapping or synergistic aspects with each other). However, this is kind of a reach given the information we have since there’s nothing to suggest The Vast even if you could maybe argue The Buried with the idea of feeling trapped depending on where the man is and maybe the needles prevent him from moving or something. Still seems like kind of a leap with so little information though and I’m not sold on the idea.

When Sam notes that the case seems like it just sort of ends and questions Alice on what the deal with that is she says “I barely hear my own. You tune them out after a while.” Which points to the whole “ignorance is bliss” themeing I’ve come back to over and over and a philosophy Alice seems to take to heart. One of the themes of the Eye I have pointed out previously is the idea of “seeing too much” and how this can drive you mad or otherwise endanger you and potentially harm you mentally. Something that I don’t thibk I’ve done a good job explaining is that when I point these out I am not saying that Sam and Alice are secretly Avatars aligned with The Eye or something. What I am arguing is that the O.I.A.R. is probably somehow connected to The Eye and that in TMA the Eye and The Magnus Institute seemed to attract people with certain qualities or personality quirks (like how someone who tends towards violence is more likely to fall to The Slaughter). What I am arguing is that Alice and Sam might unknowingly end up in The Eye’s clutches in the same way Jon ended up becoming aligned with The Eye via becoming the Archivist.

We are finally introduced to the new employee Celia and both she and Sam bond over how weird the interview is. Something we heard in one of the protocol trailers was Lena asking if Sam had any previous supernatural encounters. Celia mentions “I’ll be honest, I thought there’d be more people working here given the size of the building?” Which makes me wonder if more people used to work for the O.I.A.R. at some point or if they were expecting more people. It could also just be some weird ominous stuff or other parts of the building are being used for some other (probably shady) purpose(s). Maybe they have their own artifact storage somewhere? Maybe there are other people working there but they are somehow isolated from each other? Who knows.

Sam says that it’s just him, Gwen, Alice, and the IT manager (Colin) to which Celia responds “Four weirdos in a basement reading scary stories. Dream job.” Which is a funny description and one that could probably also apply pretty well to the Archives of the Magnus Institute (at least with Jon being a weirdo reading scary stories in a (possible) basement along with his handful of coworkers).

ALICE 

“Yeah, you got that hardened killer look in your eyes.” 

CELIA 

“Damn, and here I thought I’d hidden it behind a sweet and bubbly demeanor. Anyway, I’d better go.”

I get the gut feeling that this interaction between Alice and Celia was some sort of ominous foreshadowing I don’t yet understand considering how… shady Celia seems later but I try not to skip ahead too much when talking about an episode. 

We get some of the nosier parts of Sam’s personality when he reveals to Celia that he knows about Alice’s secret stash of biscuits (a cookie for us Americans) and Alice even questions how Sam would know this. Normally, I would go on a talk about Sam’s parallels with The Eye via curiosity and knowledge and all that but the answer is a much more mundane “It’s literally the same place you did when we were students – back of the top shelf in the upper leftmost cabinet. Where you think people won’t be tall enough to see them.” Alice does warn him not to tell other people but with how much she’s joking it’s hard to take the warning that seriously and I don’t think she cares that much.

Conclusion

Yeah, idk, definitely one of the weirder episodes so Feel free to leave any comments or corrections and I may say if I agree or disagree with them and why.

#tmp #tma #the magnus protocol #the magnus archives #discussion

[jay-jp-art]

hey hey, do you mind sharing your akiyama headcanons? just saw ur tags talking abt how theyre dark and im very interested!!!! your fem ryuaki fuels me in ways i cannot describe and i havent even played dead souls FHKGJG and your tanimuras have my whole entire heart!!!

Oh wow first of all THANK YOU for the ask!! It's been only couple days since I've discovered I've had them disabled all this time so I'm very happy I noticed it before you found my blog (,:

I've already complained a bit on twt that when I've started to write down ryuaki headcanons, it prompted me to make a 35+ pages google doc with meta on both of them 😅 It pushed me to write more fun drafts tho, so all is well, but it won't fit in this post for sure ahbfght

But ofc, I will share a little about Shun specifically. (TW for implied SA)

Akiyama... I have complicated feelings about him, because on the one hand, he got betrayed by his closest people, lost all the standing in society and lived as a homeless person for a long time, and that's a big trauma to have. But on the other... He's got back up by a miracle, and now he's trying to recreate the miracle for others. He assumes the role of a judge for other people while himself being too young, too flawed, having black and white morals.

(In Y4 I downright despised Akiyama when he refused a loan to an abused woman on the basis that she didn't want to apply for sex work, but in the same substory gave some cringefail guy 4 chances to complete the test just because it was amusing.)

But I've just completed Y5, and it gave me lots of food for thought.

First of all, from what I see, Shun here was written (rewritten?) as a more sympathetic character. For example, now when it's implied that he's gonna make some woman "use her body" for the loan, it means he's sending her to work on the construction site. Well, alright. I'll take the bad taste joke over previous cases.

There's also an important quest when Akiyama meets his former boss, who not only initially fired him on false accusations, which started his downfall, but also married his ex-fiancée. And Akiyama finally admits that at first, he wanted to use his position as a loan shark to be selfish and to get revenge, but got disgusted with himself after seeing some humanity and principles in the former boss.

So, here finally comes self-awareness about his actions. Interesting tidbit.

Another big part of the character building we see now: when he is alone in Osaka, without Hana around, he's a complete mess. His new office is dirty, he barely eats some instant ramen and clearly just uses the place to escape Tokyo and the responsibilities he created himself. If in Y4 we saw him within his element, managing Elise and doing loan business (with a messy table because he's just soooo quirky and lazyyy \s), then in Y5 we get to see a bit of what's inside his head. And it's not pretty.

He's clearly distancing himself - from Hana and his new yakuza friends, because they have their own lives to care about. (Tanimura too mayhaps, but this is a separate friendship that I also like to talk about a lot)

Aaand he escapes to his ugly nook to have his ugly depressive thoughts. Can't let them witness it, can he? They'd lose all the respect for him.

At the same time, he throws himself into helping Haruka with passion, because that's the thing he actually cares about, for the first time in a couple years. (He also provides her with some much-needed parenting about the importance of being selfish, because, being raised by Kiryu, she's entirely too self-sacrificing.)

And suddenly - he's lively and energetic again, he's bouncing off other characters, he risks his life for what he deems right, he's helpful, organizing, charming. He's everywhere.

(But he's also afraid to acknowledge that he's got too close to people again. So he's ready to literally die for them and Haruka's dream, but avoids calling them friends, settling for "acquaintances")

Not much needed to imagine that, after everything settles down, he falls apart again. Because in his head he's never really needed or too important for the people around. They carry on with their life and plans. Such as Eri, Arai, Yasuko. Even Hana got fed up and left at some point, and has been keeping him at an arm's length since. (Good for her, that was unhealthy)

He's not only not that interesting, his trauma is "ugly" (by his self-admission). It's not heroic and it's very mundane. There's no clear villains to blame, like with Majima's torture in Y0.

It's just - waking up is hard. Akiyama can't see the point in much of what he's doing anymore. Money is just paper for him now, they might have bought him the freedom of choice, but somehow it didn't help. Even with all the financial help to struggling people he can't buy healing for himself. Most alive he felt actually was when he lost the money briefly in Y4 - it made him work to get them back again.

Now it gets a bit tricky, hence the TW.

I think that a lot of things about him actually make sense, if while living on the streets, he had it bad enough to the point of selling himself for food. Like, I don't want to make it into torture porn or downplay the traumatic experience of homelessness overall, but something for sure ruined him and his self-perception. That's why he's bouncing between playing a self-righteous entity and hating himself.

Aside from his crippling depression from all this being shunned deep inside and not addressed, there's the attitude about sex work I've mentioned he has in Y4. He is distancing himself from the situation yet again. A little bit of a trick to calm his mind: "If I treat it like every other job, it won't feel as dehumanizing applied to myself". And also: "Well, I was not above doing that! I was not too proud to do it! Why should anyone else be?"

Now, of course he doesn't want to subject his former boss (and, by extension, Eri) to the same hardships. Even though he is, actually, a bit of a cruel person.

So here's Akiyama in Y4-5. Not super pretty and kind of greasy, but nevertheless charming, gallant and crazy smart. Fighting and dancing and singing and networking equally well. VERY annoying, because he considers himself an expert in all things he read about even once (I also hc him eidetic memory, which makes it worse). And with every year getting more secluded and miserable.

That being said, fem ryuaki has slightly different tone even in all-fem AU because of gender expectations. Akiyama's upbringing for example.

I hc his parents seeing him as this very "proper" son, encouraging his risk-taking neurodivergent activity ONLY when it helped to build onto that image. They happily bragged about their son - with prestigious business degree, good banking job and pretty fiancée. But ofc, when it's all came crashing down, they didn't want to hear about him anymore. Nowadays they acknowledge his existance with some disdain, because they care about reputation more then about him or his wealth. And he has some "disgusting jobs, no respectable friends and no wife".

(It's all kinda complicated from both sides, mb I'll get deeper into it in fanfic that I'm writing)

(And forgive me for saying this, but fem Akiyama is more interesting for me to write in this narrative, because she needed to balance fitting "proper little quiet Japanese woman" with her loud banking career, and while she was always openly feminine, she was never proper or quiet "enough". And now she's "not enough" among actual living legends.)

Well, that's all I have to say for now!

I'm always open for further questions and discussions 😊

#jay's askbox #ryu ga gotoku #shun akiyama #headcanon #rgg meta #yakuza #akiyama shun

[silentprincess17]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

Tagged by my wonderful friends @zeldaelmo and @zeldadiarist

__

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

28 :)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

284,149!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Legend of Zelda :) My first ever video game series that still has me on chokehold from the age of 10 lol

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Sometimes Things Have To Get Worse Before They Get Better A Hero Indeed

Sometimes better is only an illusion

A fated meeting

Sugar

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try my best!! I write for myself and be free of those weird whimsical scenarios that enter my brain at 5 am lol but I post to share with everyone and interact with the fandom :)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ooh that is difficult. Lots of my fics end with uncertainty and deal with angsty themes throughout. Probably the angstiest is sometimes things don’t get better they only get worse (featuring Yiga Link realising who he actually is)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ahaha please see above 😂😂😂 But probably that’s my regency Arranged marriage Zelink fic Sugar

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I don’t think I’ve ever gotten hate hate you know? Most of my comments are super wholesome :)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

That is one thing I won’t ever write. Not because of some moral high ground or anything like that, mostly because I don’t really write fics that would make sense to have smut within them.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nope haha. I’ve referenced other fandoms in my fics sure (ten from doctor who my bae) but other than that no.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Don’t think so!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Another no! That’d be super cool though.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I did once! Nothing that’s published actually. It was before I wrote anything serious- my mate and I exchanged a google doc during the early days of the pandemic. Nothing much came of it but that’s actually what kick started my eventual fanfic writing!

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Let us examine my tumblr heading and AO3 page… let me know if this remains unclear 😂

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Sadly my series on what happened 10,000 years ago. I have written the next two whole fics (200k words lol) but nothing beyond that. It seems like too huge a project now with how busy life is.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Tough question aha I do like my dialogues and I think my plots are generally robust!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I can sometimes do too much telling and not enough showing. Working hard to try and make more balanced!!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Oooh that would be fun! I speak 5 languages and I sometimes incorporate bits and bobs but I’m always conscious of the fact that people generally may not understand it. And what is the reason for the alternate language?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

LoZ

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Gosh. You really ended this with a banger lol. Uhhhhhh Long fic is probably A Hero Indeed (mighty mental effort went into this lol) and one shot is An Eternal Darkness that Hides Echoes of a Time Past :)

#Tag game #haven’t done one of those in a long time!!!

[alovesongshewrote]

You Choke on His Blood - Twilight | Eddie Munson x Reader

Plot:  Kas!Eddie scenario but with a twist! a twist that will become very obvious very quickly. Anyway, a year before the events of season 4, Eddie takes you to a bar and things go very wrong very quickly- and they don't get better for a long, long time. [Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral!Reader]  Part 1, Part 2,

Word count:  9,219

Warnings:  BIG WARNING: this whole chapter can be read as a metaphor for date r*pe, and there is an attempted date r*pe at the end that very quickly fails. A main character is drugged, another is turned into a vampire without their consent. Other warnings include: blood and violence, gore, murder, and assumed character death. Please use caution while reading. If there's anything you'd like me to add here, please lmk

Disclaimer: Fuck netflix, fuck whoever came up with having a "stranger things experience" in a former n*zi prison where jewish and romani people were exterminated. that's an incredibly fucked up thing to do, and i do not support or endorse it.

A/N: jesus fucking christ this chapter is 22 pages long on google docs. anyway, there's so much preamble here and most of it is the warnings- can't wait to see if i end up writing that darkfic...

Tags: i'm so sorry, but i genuinely can't remember who asked to be tagged for what. if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this fic, please lmk

You’d never given much thought to how you would die. You just assumed, as most others do, that you would meet your end at an old age in a hospital bed, or drift off in your sleep without suffering. In all fairness, even if you thought about how you would die every day, I don’t know how you could’ve seen your death coming.  

Instead of passing on in the usual way, you were dragged behind a bar and murdered by a monster. Its venom flooded your veins. You grew fangs and claws. You lost the boy you loved. Your mortal life ended.  

One year later, you sat at the same bar, alone. An untouched gin and tonic sat in front of you, glowing slightly thanks to a newly installed ultraviolet light. You glared at the drink, tapping your fingers against the glass and trying to clear your mind. Your attempts were unsuccessful.  

It wasn’t like you could be blamed for that, though. Thanks to your new inhuman memory, you remembered your death as transparently as the glass before you- including the role this bar had played in your final moments.

Long story long, you’d spent most of your last human day in the bedroom of a dear metalhead friend of yours. You’d more or less taken over his bed, lying on it as you listened to him rant and rave about some bar he’d ventured out to the other night. That wasn’t too out of the ordinary. You and Eddie Munson spent most of your time ranting at each other about whatever the fuck you felt like, and you were no stranger to sneaking into bars. However, it was pure tradition for the two of you to break drinking laws together.

Maybe that was why this rant in particular was creeping under your skin. You couldn’t come up with another reason for it. Eddie wasn’t teasing you, or provoking you in any way, which was out of the ordinary. Whatever the true reason may have been, you could only sit in his room watching his perfect lips move for so long before you got sick of it.  

Eventually, you were forced to act- you sat up from your spot on his bed and threw a pillow at his face with all of your strength. He was mostly unaffected.

“Something bothering you, sweetheart?”

You threw another pillow at him. It was the best way to ignore how the pet name made you feel, “Uh, yeah, there is. You’ve been talking about this place all day, and I’m almost one hundred percent sure it isn’t as metal as you say it is.”

“Oh?  Are you doubting my descriptive skills, (L/N)?”

“Why, I think I am, oh great master of descriptions,” as tempted as you were to throw something else at your friend, you settled for nudging his leg with your foot. Hard.

He stood from his place on the floor, looming over you with his hands on his hips in a very half-assed attempt to be intimidating. Of course, he failed at that. As intimidating as the rest of Hawkins found him, he never managed to scare you. He was too sweet for that. His eyes were too big, too soft. Also, his smile was a dead giveaway. He tried to fight it, but it won out, practically yelling out to the world that Eddie wasn’t actually upset.

Still, he tried to sound wounded, “Harsh, (Y/N). Harsh, and cold.”

“Is that really the best you can do, Eds?” you scoffed, “I’d give those descriptive words… maybe, a three out of ten? It’s closer to a four than a two if that helps.”

“It does not,” he paused, and the smile he had been fighting took over his face. His eyes glinted, bright with mischief. That fucker had a plan.

“Eddie?” your question sounded like a warning, “What are you-?”

Before you could finish your sentence, Eddie let himself fall on top of you, effectively pinning you to the bed. You let out a squeak of rage as you struggled, wiggling around as you tried to free yourself from underneath him.

“You dick!” you screeched through your poorly disguised giggles, “Get off me, oh my god-!”

“Mm, “dick” isn’t the best descriptive word you could come up with, (L/N), I’d give it a three out of ten. Maybe scoundrel- or mayhaps villain or rogue would be better.” 

Eddie’s voice was slightly muffled, his face still pressed into his sheets as you writhed about. You tried to ignore the heat that flooded your body at the feeling of his weight on top of you.

“Oh my god, get off of me.”

“Mmm, I’d rather not. You make a good pillow,” he pushed himself up on his elbows and smiled down at you. A strand of his hair was stuck to his cheek, and you had to fight off the urge to brush it away. Instead, you planted your hand in the center of his face and shoved him off of you. He gave out half a yell as he lost his balance and collapsed to the floor.

You dragged yourself over to the edge of the bed and looked down at him. The smile on his face matched the one on yours.

“Thou art a cruel and unmerciful wretch, (Y/N) (L/N).”

“Oh, bite me, Munson.”

“You wound me! And to think I was planning on taking you to a certain bar tonight.”

You rolled your eyes and extended a hand down to him. He accepted your hand and let you pull him up. As you did, you made a bit of a show of sighing and groaning as you said, “Damn, I guess that means I have to keep you alive for the next few hours.”

“You doooo,” he almost cooed at you as he returned to his seated position at the side of the bed, “Otherwise, who would watch your drink when you got distracted by something shiny, huh? And who would drive your ass home after you have one too many?”

“I’m gonna… bite you,” you grumbled, running a hand through Eddie’s hair, messing it up as much as you could.  

You knew he was right. Whenever the two of you ventured out with the intent to commit the lovely crime of underage drinking, he was the one to have your back. Of course, you had his

“I’d like to see you try,” he grabbed your wrist, pulling it away from his hair and towards his chest. He didn’t seem to notice the effect that small action had on you. Instead, he just continued to ramble on about whatever came into his mind.  

That was just how the two of you were. Your friendship was a mix of relentless teasing and genuine affection. And you loved it. You loved him, as deeply and truly as any one person could love another. He loved you the same way- even if you did threaten to bite him on a regular basis, which you absolutely did.  

Of course, all of your feelings were felt in silence. You never told him how you felt, and it was one of your greatest regrets. If you had known what was going to happen to you that night, you would have told him everything. You would have gotten him to stay home with you. You wouldn’t have left his trailer.  

You didn’t know what would happen, though. You had no way of knowing. So, you stayed silent, and you didn’t think about it too much.

Now, as you sat in the same bar he wanted to take you to, you desperately wished you could go back and make better choices. As your fingers traced shapes through the condensation on your glass, you mourned your past self and all their bad choices. After a moment of silence for your past actions, you let the memory consume you again.

The day passed quickly. Soon, you were ready to leave. Eddie draped one of his jackets over your shoulders as you stepped out of his trailer. The leather smelled like him- like warmth, spice, and weed. He ran a hand through your hair and messed it up, laughing as you grabbed at the offending limb.

“Munson, you asshole, I’m going to bite you.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he said, trying and failing to hide his smile, “Look, in return, you can pick what we listen to on the way there.”

That was a high honour- one that was very rarely offered to anyone other than you. A smirk crawled its way across your face as you looked between the car and your friend, “That’s more like it, pretty boy.”

“Pretty boy?” he questioned as you climbed into his van.

“Don’t judge- you keep calling me ‘sweetheart,’ I have to at least try to compete with that.”

“Well,” he shut the door behind you and got into the driver’s seat, “You aren’t doing the best job of that.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re winning now, whatever,” your reply was absent-minded, your attention now focused on the cassette tapes scattered throughout the organized disorder of his van. You picked up a tape and examined it before returning it to the pile, “But I will make a comeback.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I will!  I’m gonna kick your ass, trust me.”

“Sure thing, man, and right after that, I’ll kick your ass.”

“You could never, I’m too adorable.”

“Damn,” he smacked the steering wheel without much force, “I think you’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” your focus returned to the pile of tapes, and the van fell into silence.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was also focused on the tapes- or more specifically, the way you looked as you picked a cassette from the mess in his van. Your bottom lip was drawn between your teeth in deep concentration, and for an embarrassingly long moment, he wished that it was his teeth biting down on your lip instead. 

He tried to ignore that, fighting the thought off and hoping that you didn’t notice the red dusting his cheeks. Suddenly, the silence of the van was far too loud for him.

“Hurry up and pick a damn tape, will ya? Pick one, or I’m pulling over, 'cause I’m not about to drive all the way to the bar sitting in silence like a serial killer.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, right. You might look scary, Cupcake, but I don’t think anything could make you into a serial killer.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I think you’d be surprised, (L/N).”

“Okay, then, tell me. What would make you, Eddie Munson, into a serial killer?”

He paused for a moment, staring straight at the road, pondering your question. As you fell to pieces laughing at him, another bigger question crossed his mind.

“Did you just call me Cupcake?”

“Would you kill me if I did?”

He sighed and stared out at the road again, choosing not to dignify your question with a response. It was a wise choice- but of course, it was one you couldn’t accept.

“So that’s a no? A no to my murder? Okay then, baby girl.”

He turned to you, his concentration on the road nearly shattered. His head was cocked to the side slightly in a very cute way. He smiled, though his eyes betrayed his utter confusion, which, really, you couldn’t blame him for.

“Sorry,” you said, tapping your fingers against the dash, “I was trying to come up with something to match ‘sweetheart’ again.”

“And the best you came up with was ‘baby girl?’” his composure was quickly slipping as he descended into giggles.

“I’m sorry! It was the first thing that came to mind!”

“The first thing that came to your mind was ‘baby girl?’”   

“Oh my god,” you shoved his arm, setting off another round of giggles. It was your turn to sigh and look away.  

A few moments later, when his laughter had subsided, you opened your mouth again, “So, should I go back to calling you Cupcake? I liked that one.”

He wheezed, completely unable to answer. You were thankful that the road was empty because he probably would have crashed the car. When he finally recovered, he sat up straight, wiping a fake tear from his eye, “That’s up to you, sweetheart. Just like the music. So pick something.”

“You got me,” you threw your hands up, trying to act exasperated- though the look on your face gave you away. You leaned over in your seat and returned to the cassette pile, finally choosing one.

Of course, it was a mix that you had made. There was nothing you enjoyed more than gently bullying your friend by making him listen to your taste in music. You let yourself relax in your seat as the first song on the track blasted in your ears.  ‘The Chain.’ Fleetwood Mac.  Musical excellence.

The setting sun cast a warm glow over your world, painting you and Eddie in gold. You watched him, a smile crossing your face as he ranted to you about some D&D thing over the music. His eyes were so bright, so alive- and you were entranced.  You couldn’t look away, and you didn’t want to. If that one moment could have extended on forever, you would’ve been happy, your destination be damned.

Of course, that wasn’t the case. The sun set, the van stopped, and you arrived at the bar. Still, a year and a monstrous transformation later, that moment continued to shine like gold in your memories.  

You found yourself relaxing slightly, leaning against the bar, your hand supporting your chin as you thought about it- as you thought about the way the sun lit Eddie’s hair, giving him a sort of halo, and as you remembered the way the sun changed his dark eyes to the colour of honey.  

The sweet memory was quickly shattered, however, by a flash of those same brown eyes, confused and terrified, watching as that thing attacked you.

You took a sip of your drink.

Behind you, a few people entered the bar. You turned the slightest bit, taking them in without turning your head too far thanks to your belothed inhuman eyes. Among them stood a couple- one in leather, and one in a battle jacket.

You took another sip, trying to ignore how much that couple resembled you, pretending you didn’t notice the burning sting in your eyes as you remembered walking into the bar with Eddie, oblivious to what was about to happen.

Your body was tucked under his arm, distracting you, for a moment, from the fact that the bar smelled pungently of metal. You couldn’t exactly place what it was at the time- though now you knew that the smell was iron, or more accurately, rust.

Still, at the time, you paid it no mind. You were just a little distracted by the sight and sounds surrounding you. Lights flashed, drenching the dance floor in darkness before blinding you with light. The entire room was filled with people, talking, dancing, drinking, all of them densely packed into the space like metalhead sardines. You didn’t notice then, how many of them were staring at you.

You couldn’t be blamed for that. The bar was mildly overwhelming, drowning out your senses in a sea of screams and shouts and songs. Still, you couldn’t help but grin. Something about the noise made you feel particularly alive.  

“Are you thirsty?” Eddie asked. He didn’t wait for an answer before he continued, “I’m thirsty. Come on, sweetheart.”

You let him take you by the hand and pull you towards the bar, stopping a few seats down from where you would sit one year later. He didn’t ask you for your drink preferences- he’d always known your tastes well. You trusted him to choose for you.

You could practically see your former self now, sitting at the bar, drink in hand, looking around with wide eyes, trying to take everything in at once and failing. You could see yourself turning back to Eddie, catching his smile as he watched you.

You spent a few hours like that, talking to each other, drinking, and simply taking in the revelry around you. Then everything started to go south.

Somewhere behind you, a fight broke out. The chaos stole your attention from the bar and the drinks in front of you. The fight took Eddie’s focus as well. He put an arm in front of you, protecting you from the edges of the fray. It was a valiant effort, and you appreciated it, even now- but maybe getting punched would have been better than what came next.

The fight ended quickly. The instigator was asked to leave, and the other man involved in the brawl was left behind, nursing what looked like a black eye. And that was that. You shared a glance with Eddie, your eyebrows raised as he grimaced. You swallowed your laughter and turned back to your drinks, not realizing that your fatal mistake had already been made.

You brought the glass to your lips.

Eddie brought his glass to his.

You both took a drink.

Your drink was fine. It didn’t taste any different than it had before. There was no powdery substance swirling around the liquid. Nothing had changed. It was fine. You were fine.

But Eddie? Eddie was not fine.

It was easy to see that something was wrong- especially when, out of the corner of your eye, you watched him take a sip of his drink, make a face, take another sip of his drink, and spit that sip back into his glass.

“Eds?” you said his name like a question, “Are you-”

“Shit.  Shit-” instead of responding to you, Eddie held his drink up, trying to see it in the low light of the bar. He squinted at it, trying to focus on the liquid through the condensation.

Then he dropped the glass.

It shattered on the bar’s surface, spraying glass fragments and alcohol in every direction. A few people jumped back, and you joined them with a yelp- but not before a shard managed to slice your hand open.

Your focus wasn’t on your own pain, though. Nope, you were entirely focused on how Eddie had barely moved. It looked as if he was slumping forward slightly- like he was off balance, uneasy on his feet.

“Eds?” your voice and hands shook as you reached out for him. Before your hand met his shoulder, he bolted upright, his hands braced against the bar.  

“That was too quick. It shouldn’t have happened that fast-” his words were quiet. He wasn’t talking to you.

“Eddie, what are you talking about-?”

“Something’s wrong. We should leave,” he sounded so serious in that moment- almost scared.  You’d never heard him sound that way before.

“What’s- what’s going on?”

“Someone put something in my drink,” he turned and tried to smile at you in what you had to guess was an attempt to keep you calm. It didn’t work. His movements were off- slightly subdued and sluggish. He looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

And, in fact, he was. He was dizzy, drowsy, and overall experiencing the effects of what he had to assume was some kind of date rape drug. Someone must have slipped it into his drink while he was watching the fight- and he had a feeling that they’d missed their intended target.  You.

He wasn’t exactly thankful that he had been drugged, but at the time, he was thankful that it was him and not you.  

He wasn’t sure which drug it was. Sure, he was a dealer, but not for this.  His general knowledge suggested that it was probably roofies thanks to the sudden and bitter taste in his drink, but his general knowledge also reminded him that roofies didn’t work this fast. He’d taken one sip, and within seconds he was seeing symptoms. That wasn’t normal. None of this was.  

It scared him, honestly, and it should have.  He didn’t know what was happening to him. He didn’t know what was going on in his own body. He didn’t know what was in his system. And on top of that, he couldn’t protect you from whoever did this. He was too out of it- too dizzy, too drowsy. The world around him was too fuzzy for him to do much more than get the two of you out of there. 

“It’s probably just roofies, but, uh- we need to go,” his words were slurred slightly, but you understood him just fine. As you pulled him from the bar and towards the exit, one thought lingered in his blurred, distorted mind.

The person who had done this to him was probably targeting you.

That thought scared him more than anything else that night- more than the drugs in his system and more than the unknowns that circled his head. It was sweet that he worried too much- but in a way, it was also a waste. It wasn’t like he would remember any of this the next day.

But he didn’t know that. He was just focused on getting out of the bar with you. He put all of his effort into walking normally, trying to make the process easier, taking as much of the burden as he could off of your shoulders.

He wasn’t great at that. It was nice that he tried, but he almost fell into you completely, swearing under his breath as you moved to support his weight. You did your best to avoid getting blood on him, but it was a difficult process considering the blood was coming from your hand. The two of you swayed slightly, entirely unsteady as you moved back through the bar, making your escape.

And you almost did it. You almost escaped. You were just a few feet from the door when someone stepped in your way, blocking your path.

You recognized him. Eddie was too out of it at that point to register the man’s face, but you knew him. He was one of the men who was fighting earlier- the one left in the bar. Oddly enough, there was no bruising on his face. There was no blood, no damage- just a sharp grin cutting across his cheeks. The man had a beautiful smile, you had to admit- beautiful and off-putting.

“Need some help there?” he offered, reaching out a hand. On the surface, it was a kind gesture, but something in your gut told you to run. The scent of metal was stronger around this man.

“I think we’ll be fine, thanks,” you tried to keep your face neutral, all the while gritting your teeth.

“No, no, I insist.”

“So do I,” you growled, clutching Eddie’s body tighter to you, “We’ll be fine. Thanks.”

The man’s smile grew wider. You tried to step around him, but he walked, again, into your path. When you turned to take another route, you almost walked into another man. You recognized him, too, as the man who had started the fight. He must have made his way back into the bar, but you barely registered that. You were distracted by the grin on his face, just as sharp and intimidating as the smile on the other man. 

You tried again, in vain, to bypass this man, but you found yourself walking into someone else’s body. You looked up to find yourself encircled by strangers, all of them with sharp, cutting smiles. You were surrounded. Your stomach dropped.

“Come on, let us help,” the first man said, taking Eddie from your grasp by force.

“Hey! Stop-!” you called out after him, trying to keep up with his lengthy steps.

“Stop! Let him go, you asshole-” you raised your fists, pounding on the man’s back, trying to get him to stop. You failed. What’s more, your effort was cut short by another two men grabbing your arms and pulling you towards the exit.  

You struggled in their grasp, not really caring if you made a scene. You writhed, screamed, and fought, but you made no impact on your situation. Somehow, none of the bystanders even seemed to notice.  

To be fair, you almost didn’t notice when the men pulled you into the brisk night and behind the bar. It was a dimly lit space. Night had fallen, and clouds covered the moon. That left two lights attached to the building to cast the space in a sickly yellow light. You were almost glad that they did such a shitty job.

What you could see of the concrete behind the bar was covered in odd stains. Two dumpsters were covered in a similar substance. Each of them reeked with the smell of rot- in fact, the whole area did. Flies buzzed nearby, humming an elegy in tune with the dull static sound of the wall lights.  

Before your surroundings could make you spiral any further, Eddie’s voice hit your ears. He groaned out your name, breaking your heart into a million little pieces. You did your best to keep your eyes on him despite the situation, and the horror around you. You had to focus on his limp frame, his arms twisted behind his back in a cruel, unforgiving hold by the man from the bar.  

Seeing him hurt just made you fight harder. You snapped at your captors, spitting and biting, snarling like a feral beast. You screamed, too, begging them to let him go, begging any passers-by for help. No one came. No one helpful, anyway.

In the midst of your frenzied fighting, a figure emerged from the shadows. Its eyes were white pinpricks in the dark, gazing at you, eating you alive even at a distance. Your body froze when you finally noticed it standing there. It took a few steps into the light, and a chill ran through you. He was just a normal man. A little older than you, relatively handsome, and with a grin as sharp as any other. You didn’t know who he was. You didn’t recognize him from the bar. But something told you that he knew you, that he’d been waiting here, for you.

You wanted to keep fighting. You wanted to break from your captors’ hold, grab Eddie, and escape. You didn’t do any of those things.

Instead, you stood, trapped as the Stranger advanced on you. You watched him with wide, terrified eyes as he took your injured hand in his. He examined the wound, inhaling the blood that stained your skin.

“I told you they’d be a catch, didn’t I?” he finally spoke in a deep voice that chilled your blood.

“Mhmm, but are they really worth the hassle?” one of your captors spoke up, “They’re rather intent on causing a scene- and extensive damage to my face.…” 

“You deserved it,” you barked, a bit of fight returning to your bones.  

The shadow-drenched Stranger seemed to like that response, “See? They’re a fighter. They’ll last longer than the others, and when they do break, well-” he dug his fingers into the wound on your palm, drawing a scream from your lips, “It’ll be more fun for us, won’t it?”

His hungry eyes met yours as he brought his blood-soaked digits to his mouth. Again, you found yourself frozen, like a deer trapped in headlights, watching as he licked the red from his fingers.  

“Oh,” the Stranger purred, leaning closer to you, “They’re delicious.”

The Stranger’s smile grew wider as he turned his attention to your throat. He took his time drawing closer to you, casually taking hold of you in place of your captors. You strained against his grip, but your efforts were futile. His strength was inhuman- his grip on you left bruises that would never truly go away. It finally dawned on you that this was not a man that held you like he wanted to destroy you- this was a monster that wanted to toy with you until you breathed your last.

And in that moment, you understood. You were his prey. You were a rabbit between the teeth of a predator. A deer staring down a fucking bus. You were going to die- and things were only going to get worse from there.  

The Stranger grabbed your face and pulled you in, teeth bared. He was mere seconds away from piercing the thin flesh of your throat when the sound of a scuffle broke his concentration.

“Let them go, you bastard-”

Eddie.  He was up and struggling, fighting against the man holding him despite the drugs coursing through his veins. Your heart screamed in your chest, desperate for him to help you- and for you to help him. But there was nothing you could do.

“Did you hear me? Let. Them. Go,” his voice trembled, and his words slurred together, but it didn’t matter. He was fighting and he was doing it for you.  

It was incredibly stupid. It was incredibly brave.  It spared you for a moment, but it cost you both in the long run, and that didn’t matter in the end, because fuck, you loved him.

The Stranger also loved Eddie, but he loved him for a much different, much more entertainment-based reason.

“Ohhh, isn’t this cute?” The Stranger released you, throwing you back to the other men. His eyes set upon his newest fascination with an unsettling joy engraved within them.

He grabbed Eddie by the chin, forcing your friend to meet his gaze. The Stranger studied him for a moment, taking in the honey brown eyes that you were so fond of before he placed both of his hands on Eddie’s face, almost cradling it. His grasp almost looked gentle. From experience, you could tell that it was anything but. It would only take a jerk of the Stranger's hands to end the boy you loved- and you were powerless to do anything about it.

A sob escaped you as you thrashed, helplessly. Eddie was drugged and defenceless, and you couldn’t help him. You couldn’t see his face, but you could practically feel the panic burning through him.  

“Don’t cry, little one,” the Stranger said, casting a glance at you over his shoulder, “Don’t waste your tears on this fucking failure.”

“Fuck off-” you hissed, but the Stranger paid you no mind. Instead, he turned his gaze back to Eddie, tilting his head and humming a bit. The world fell silent for a few moments as dread built in your chest. Fear grew inside of you, eating away at your soul like a parasite.  

“It’s kind of sweet, you know? How much he cares for you. How much he wants to protect you. Oh, he’s going to be so much fun.”

“Stop!!  Leave him alone!” you begged, “Please, don’t hurt him!”

“Don’t worry, little one,” the smirk on the Stranger’s face could not be described as anything but malicious. His eyes glinted in the low light, and as he spared you another glance, your heart dropped to your stomach, “I’ll leave most of the hurting to you.”

Before you could process what that truly meant, the Stranger tilted Eddie’s head back and drove his fingers into your friend’s temples. You watched, petrified, as the light faded from his eyes. He stopped struggling. His limbs fell to his sides as he went limp in the Stranger’s hold. You could barely hear the apology that fell from Eddie’s lips- a small, pitiful “I’m sorry,” that was undoubtedly meant for you.  

A milky white sheen covered his eyes before they slid shut entirely. Then, as quickly as it began, it was over. The Stranger let Eddie’s body fall to the floor. Everything stilled. The world fell silent.

You screamed.

The sound echoed through the parking lot. Your pain and anguish bounced off of the brick walls of the bar, and the stained concrete below. You strained against your captors, praying for some secret strength to help you free yourself and get to your friend.  

But there was nothing. You were trapped. And you were certain that Eddie was dead.

“Will you shut up?” one of the men growled.

“Master, I really think this one is more trouble than they’re worth-”

“Let’s cut the crap and slit their throat. It’s not like we really need another servant,” another of the men entangled a hand in your hair, pulling him towards you by the roots. He used the leverage to pull your head back, exposing your neck to the men around you, “Especially this one will be so fun to break.”

You felt hands on your wrists and on your waist. It felt as if a thousand men had suddenly gathered, manifesting from the shadows to tear you apart. No matter how hard you thrashed, you couldn’t shake them off. A sharp pinch hit your neck- teeth. Fangs threatened your flesh, digging in, moments from drawing blood.  

They were going to eat you. You were going to die, and all you could think about was the life leaving Eddie’s eyes.

“Enough,” the Stranger’s voice rang in your ears, blocking out the sound of your screams. His footsteps filled your mind as he approached you, stepping away from Eddie’s body, “Have patience. You’ll have your turn to drink as long as we stick to the plan.”

He stopped in front of you and held out a hand, “Give them to me.”

Without another thought, you were thrown into his arms. You weren’t sure whether you should be relieved, or afraid. Before you could make up your mind on that one, the Stranger took your injured hand in his. His hungry eyes bore into yours as he ran his tongue over the wound.  

The second your blood hit his tongue, he shifted, slightly. His eyes sharpened, glinting in the low light like an animal’s as if he had a tapetum lucidum of his own. His teeth grew slightly in length and in sharpness. You already knew that this man wasn’t human, but now you could see it. And looking just behind him, you could see that every other man surrounding you was the exact same type of creature that he was. They were monsters, all of them.

You whimpered, wounding your pride slightly. Still, you found it in yourself to ask, “What did you do to him?”

“You’ll find out soon enough, sweet one.”

A shaky breath filled your lungs. In your last moments, with your last breaths, you asked another question- one that you already knew the answer to, “What are you?”

He didn’t answer. Before you could understand what was happening, you were knocked back. The Stranger held you in midair against his chest, between him and the ground. As he set his teeth against your pulse point, your eyes fell to Eddie. His crumpled form lay where the Stranger had left him. His eyes were shut. He looked dead.  

Despite the imminent death, you couldn’t help but wonder- what would happen to him after these monsters were done with you? After they followed their plan and ate you, would they kill him? Would they do to him what they were doing to you?

Tears spilled down your cheeks even before you felt the Stranger tearing into your throat.  

He made no effort to show mercy. His jaw clamped down on you, tearing through flesh and vein until he was satisfied. Your body burnt with pain so violent that you could not help the tears that fell from your eyes. Your vision blurred and tunnelled. Everything around you turned grey as your hands began to shake. The rest of your body began to convulse.  

Each and every sensation you felt intensified tenfold. You could feel the beating of your heart in your chest, the pulling of your muscles, and the grating of your bones against your flesh.  

It was fucking sickening.

You heard a sound. A scream, a broken plea, faint but full of fear- the cry of a dying thing. For a moment, you thought it was something in the woods, a deer or a rabbit caught screaming as something big tore it apart. It took you a minute to register that the sound came from you.  

Other sets of teeth pierced your skin as the rest of the men joined in on the murder. Someone’s lips lapped at your wounded hand, and someone else’s fangs carved into your thigh. You could feel the smiles on their faces as they ate you alive. Time seemed to slow down as they ripped you open and drank you to death. A sickening lightness took your mind as you recognized what was to come.

With even your desperation drained, you succumbed to your fate. The fight in you was gone. The last thing your human eyes saw was Eddie. The pain crescendoed, and the world went dark. You were dead. Your life was over.  

But that wasn’t the end, was it?  

No. No, it was not. You were dead, yes, but then you noticed that you could still feel everything. All of the pain, the anguish, the panic- it was still there, running through your body, eating away at what was left of you.

In the haze of sightless experiences, you could feel something pressing against your lips- something hard, dripping with what had to be blood. The taste of metal flooded your mouth as a thick, hot liquid rushed in. You could feel it coursing down your throat, changing you as it went. As you drank, you grew stronger. Whatever it was that they had given you, it brought you back from the abyss. The pain lessened. Your senses sharpened. And everything felt wrong.

Your teeth were too long for your mouth. You could smell the ichor that stained the ground beneath you, and what was undoubtedly the scent of corpses radiating from the dumpster. The buzzing of the flies and of the dim yellow lights screamed in your ears, creating a cacophony of sounds that you could not escape from. You could feel your blood, hot and steaming, dripping down your cold flesh where your assailants had decided to waste it.

And what a waste it was.

From the outside of the building, you could hear the heartbeats of every single patron of the bar. You could smell their sweat and practically taste their flesh.  And you were so hungry- suddenly, the trickle of dark plasma down your throat wasn’t enough. You needed more.

With new inhuman strength, you gripped the thing against your mouth and sunk your claws and teeth deeper inside. You drank from it, hungrily, viciously, like an animal drinking in the viscera of its kill. You could hear a laugh, feel the limb, an arm, twitch between your jaws, but you didn’t fucking care. The new hunger that gripped you was vast and relentless- you couldn’t get enough.

You were still clinging to the arm when the Stranger pulled you away by the back of your neck. It was his other arm that you’d been tearing apart, but he didn’t seem to mind. Another of those nasty cold smiles was plastered across his face, and there was almost a sort of pride in his eyes when he looked at you.

“That’s it, sweet one, that’s it,” he cooed, “You’re thirsty, aren’t you?”

You didn’t want to give him a response. Instead, you strained against his hold, trying to bite his arm again. He was bleeding- dark liquid dripped down his fingers, beckoning you to taste it. And yes, his blood was weird. It was bitter, and it wasn’t completely satisfying, but fuck, did you want more of it.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” his smile widened, “Well, I can tell you where to get more. Do you want more?”

Your gaze broke from his arm, snapping to his face. You were desperate, so fucking desperate, inhumanly and monstrously desperate.

The Stranger seemed to know this. His eyes glinted with malice and excitement. He knew that he had power over you. He knew what was coming next, and he loved that you didn’t. He rose up slowly, keeping his eyes on your quivering frame, and with a flourish, he gestured to Eddie.

“Drink up, sweet thing.”

…

You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

And yes, you were conflicted. Yes, you wanted to eat Eddie Munson, your longtime friend and overall protector- the man you’d loved since you knew what love was, but for obvious reasons, you also did not want to do that.  

And yet, despite that, you found yourself crawling towards him, eyes set on his body like a hungry animal stalking fresh meat. In many ways, you were. 

When you reached him, you took a moment just to stare. He still looked sick- an after-effect from whatever the Stranger had done to him. Somehow, though, he managed to look beautiful. He was angelic, even in this filthy hell. You brought a hand up to trace his jaw. Your fingertips traced over his porcelain skin until they hovered over his neck, setting themselves atop his pulse point. For a moment, you thought you felt a heartbeat; slow and faint, but present.

You told yourself you were imagining things.

He was gone, you knew that, and the knowledge burned you.  It cursed you, inside and out.  Loss weighed heavy in your heart, calling you to make bad decisions and do things you’d regret.  Why worry about tomorrow when your world had just ended?

But something stopped you- something deep inside you- the little rational part of your brain that still remained- screamed for you to control your impulses.  And you did.  Dead or otherwise, you wouldn’t be eating Eddie Munson. 

Instead, you leaned down, bringing yourself closer to his throat. Your lips hovered over his pulse point, but you didn’t bite down into his sweet skin. Instead, you placed a short, gentle kiss on his neck- a soft goodbye.

Then, with a final look at the boy you loved, you stood. Your body shook terribly. Your vision swam, and the world seemed to shift underneath you. Despite all of this, you managed, and you stood tall and proud as you faced down the Stranger and his monsters. Blood-soaked and broken, you did your best to look confident and unafraid. You were a fool for what you were about to do. You did it anyway.

It was time to be brave.

“I can’t do it.”

“Oh, why? Because you love him?” the Stranger mocked you. You refused to react.

You remained silent.  

A sickening smile spread across the Stranger’s face, “Ah, humans. So simple. Don’t worry, darling. We’ll fix you.”

With a flick of his hand, the Stranger ordered one of his monsters to come and investigate your claims. You watched as the man moved forward, his hungry eyes fixed on you and on Eddie. Before he could get too close, you darted forward with speed that surprised you. You greeted him with a solid punch to the face.

Your assailant hit the ground, clutching his face with a hand. You had done that. You had knocked him down. You hadn’t been able to knock any of these monsters off of you before, but now… Your new strength was a definite surprise, but a welcome one to be sure.

Another few blood-suckers were sent your way. You punched the first one in the stomach, sending him back to the ground. Another fist flew towards your face, but you managed to dodge it, grabbing the wrist of the thing that attacked you. You threw the man away from you and caught the fist of the next man. For all intents and purposes, you were winning.

And then that ended. A knee met your chest, knocking the wind out of you and sending you stumbling towards the concrete. A boot collided with your ribs, followed by several more blows. You could do nothing but curl in on yourself, trying to protect the more fragile parts of your body. You could practically feel the bruises forming, though your skin remained unblemished.  

The beating continued for a few more minutes. You could do nothing but lie there and take it. You were already weakened- what could you do to fight back?  

“Enough,” you could feel the Stranger’s voice in your bones, “Get them up.”

Hands gripped your arms and pulled you up from the floor. Another hand gripped under your chin, forcing you to gaze up at the man who’d caused all this suffering.

He stalked towards you. For once, his face was expressionless. He looked you up and down, taking in your weakened form. An awful grin took over his face as he reached out to stroke your cheek.

“Like I said, fun to break. Let’s be off, now. There’s still much to do before the sunrise.”

And, unfortunately, there was- and it never seemed to stop. For a year you were kept as a prisoner, a thrall to the thing that turned you. You witnessed horror after horror, and you did what you needed to survive. You bided your time, though, and eventually, you gathered your courage and your cunning, and you tore the Stranger- your vampiric master- limb from fucking limb.  

You drank him, consuming his foul blood until there was nothing left. It felt good, freeing, to see the fear on his face. It brought you indescribable joy to watch the light drain from his eyes. And when, finally, your killer lay dead before you, 

After that, you found yourself relatively lost. You’d lived the last monstrous year of your life dependent on the Stranger and his coven. With them dead at your hand, you weren’t sure exactly how to live in the modern world as a creature of the night.

Your former master’s bank account was a good first step.

Yeah, it turns out that decades, possibly centuries of murder can turn a bit of a profit. Between general theft and contract killings, the Stranger definitely wasn’t hungry for money. He was just hungry for blood- and now, he wasn’t hungry for anything. Just dirt, if you had to guess.

Anyway.

You donated a solid portion of the money to various charities. It was blood money in the purest, most literal way, and keeping it would only weigh you down.

With the rest of it, you bought the bar you’d been turned at. A surprising number of the staff had been dangerous monsters in one way or another. You quickly corrected that. The staff you had now were much less monstrous- they were a safer crowd, human or otherwise. They also had a solid benefits package, so that was nice.

You had also purchased yourself a home near Hawkins. You weren’t directly in the town- no, you were easing yourself into returning. For one thing, people would have questions for you. It wasn’t every day that a young adult for a year before reappearing miraculously and with assloads of money in the bank.  

For another thing, the memories of your human life stung you. It hurt you to think back, to think of everyone you left behind. To think of Eddie, whose death still weighed heavy in your heart, and whose absence left a deep ache inside of you. It was almost nice, the agony that he left behind. It was just nice to know that you could still feel hurt, emotionally or otherwise.

So, that’s where you ended up. One year later, at the same bar, your bar, watching patrons mill about, dancing and drinking. Your eyes fell back, again and again, to the couple- the one in the leather and the one in the battle jacket. 

They were leaning against the bar, drinking together, all loving smiles and adoring stares. You embraced the stab of pain the image sent to your heart.

Taking a sip of your drink, you continued to watch as the one in leather stood and headed for the bathroom, eyes distracted as she seemed to sulk away. Your eyes turned, then, to the one in the battle jacket. You were glad you did. It meant that you got to watch him shatter the illusion that he was anything like Eddie.

You watched, eyes widening, as the man slipped a pill into his date’s drink. He looked around, his own eyes wide, looking to see if anyone had noticed him. Of course, he didn’t see you. He sat back down, shaking his hands out and pretending he’d done nothing wrong.

You knew better.

You knew you would be eating tonight. 

You turned to the bartender- another monster with a story similar to yours, and placed your hand on the bar between you, “Jen, we’ve got a bit of a situation.”

“I know,” she said, leaning towards you, “Should I-?”

You nodded, adding, “We might need a car, as well.”

“On it, boss,” Jen gave you a mock salute before she turned to face the battle jacket-wearing animal. She leaned over the counter with a wide grin and asked if she could get him another drink. He accepted with a wide, lusty grin. Pig.

You turned your attention back to the washroom, waiting for the leather-clad girl to re-enter the room. You saw her before her date did, and as she made her way to him, you stepped into her path.

“Hey there,” you said, voice low, “I just thought you should know- your date slipped something into your drink.”

A thousand emotions showed on her face- shock, anger, fear.

“That shithead, I- I don’t know how I’m gonna get home. He drove me here, I-”

“Don’t worry, cupcake. Ask the bartender in the black to call you a car,” you pointed to another bartender- not Jen, who was busy dealing with the pig.

“I- I don’t know if I have enough,” the poor thing was starting to tear up. A pang of sympathy ran through you, and you revelled in the emotion for a moment, clinging to the small fragment of humanity you had left.

“Like I said, don’t worry. The bar will cover it for you, no charge.”

“I- are you sure?”

“Of course, dear.”

“I-” her relief turned to suspicion, “Why would you do that?”

You shrugged, pulling a smile onto your face to hide the memories that crossed your mind, “It’s important to us that our patrons make it home safe. Go on now.”

You bowed, slightly, as you made a rather grand gesture in the direction of the bartender. The girl turned away from you slowly as if she was hesitant to stray from the modicum of safety you provided. You didn’t blame her. The world you lived in was a dangerous place.  

The girl’s asshole date would learn that very soon.

As she reached safety, your eyes fell from her frame and slid towards the situation unfolding between Jen and the battle-jacket date. She had him now, hook line and sinker. It was almost comical the way he stumbled after her as she led him through a back door. You followed, pausing for a moment at the door.

Outside was the back parking lot where you and Eddie had died. The lighting was still shit, but you’d gotten the place cleaned since you came to own it. The buzzing of the flies wasn’t nearly as loud as it had once been. It was almost a pity, really, that the pathetic attempted date-rapist wouldn’t feel the fear you felt that night.

Oh well.

You could hear music playing from inside the bar: ‘The Chain.” Fleetwood Mac.  Perhaps it was an odd choice for a metal bar, but you didn’t mind it in the slightest. It was familiar, and it had so many memories tied to it. Besides, how could you come to mind anything when there was such a meal in front of your face?  

Your steps fell in time with the music as you stood next to Jen, taking in a very confused man who’d just been thrown to the ground. The man at your feet was a predator to be sure; one used to getting his way and hurting whoever he felt like in the process. In that moment though, he was prey.  He was a rabbit staring into the vast, waiting jaws of a much bigger, much scarier creature. Those jaws smiled, opened, and bit down.

Blood always had a different taste. The Stranger’s blood was bitter, like the drugs he used as a weapon. Your blood tasted sweet and a little spicy, like cinnamon, sugar, and cloves. This man’s blood tasted like the beer he’d been sipping inside your bar. It wasn’t the best thing you’d ever had, but it would do for your needs.

Your teeth split flesh and broke veins, and you drank down the warm liquid that spilled out. Beneath your hands, the bastard battle-jacket boy was freaking out, losing his absolute shit. You were pretty sure that he didn’t think his night would end like this.

Of course, you didn’t give a shit. You were much stronger now, so his struggling didn’t affect you that much, and his begging was met by an explanation from Jen on how exactly he’d ended up in this position. You tuned it all out, focusing instead on the blood in your mouth as the song played out.

The man fell limp in your hands, but it mattered so very little. You were too busy pulling your head away, savouring the bliss that fresh blood brought you.

Now, you didn’t kill the man. Killing people usually caused more problems than it was worth. There would be a police investigation, and you would have to cover it up, and that his poor date would probably end up with survivor’s guilt of some kind even though she didn’t deserve it. So, no, you didn’t kill him.

Instead, you shared his blood with your more monstrous employees and then left him, unconscious, in a ditch by the side of the road. Someone would find him. Eventually.

For you, though, it was time to call it a night. You returned to the bar to find your lovely staff closing up. After checking in with the bartenders (and ensuring that the leather-clad lass made it home okay) you sent everyone off for the night, ensuring them that you would be fine cleaning up on your own. With nods and smiles, everyone was on their way.

It was a strange feeling to be in the bar when it was empty. The place held so much pain in its walls that you could practically hear the screams if you were quiet for long enough. The suffering was palpable here, in the mirror behind the bar, and in each and every table and chair. Hopefully, under your control, things would change.

For the moment, though, you decided that music would cover up the screams well enough- like patching up walls with Mud (which is, very much, a real product you can patch walls with.) With a bit of a flourish, you turned the bar’s sound system back on. Broom in hand, you swayed around, cleaning to a very familiar song and successfully keeping the memories away.

#this is so fucking loooong :') #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #x reader #stranger things x reader #pay attention to the warnings #if you'd like me to add anything to the tags lmk #eddie munson x you

[rhaaclaws]

HI rhaast ^_^ throws these numbers at you 9, 25, 30, AND 56 :]

9. Fave fight?

KC AND METALLICA MY BEST FRIENDDDDDD listen its gross but thats one of the things I love about it. like the bullshittery and the thought process from each fighter AND MY FRIEND KCCC WOOOOO its so good I rewatch it so fucking often [and then cry at ep28 to humble myself] Another one of my fav fights is Bites The Dusts and Made In Heaven because these two terrify me sooo much like THE HORRORS. BTD with how I was constantly worried shaking and crying over who was gonna die [and listen. you didn't hear it from me but when I thought rohan was gonna die I was CRYINGGGGG like tears down my face it was kind of gross] and MIH is just auauhghghghgh the HORRRORSSSSSSSS like what the fuck.... it did everything it had to do RIGHT but it hurt so fucking much and that damn ending. makes me want to explode anyways teehe "you daughter is your weakness" Dies

25. Stand ability you think wasn’t used well enough in the series?

Sorry for focusing so much on diu and va I'm just silly BUT. Love Deluxe, Purpy haze and Spice girl. first off ik this is more of just the character instead of stand but shhhhh Yukako could've bodied fucking everyone in that damn cast she'd get kira in one hit as she should! PURPY HAZEEE this is obvious but Please pelsepolease I need to see him again I'm so devastated WITH THAT COOL ASS THEME TOO..... BRUH... anwyays Spice Girl my best friend he could've also done it all but noooo. Whatevers.

30. Rank your order: Jojo main villains

ok im exceptionally bad at ranking things BUT I have two lists, villains I Like and how much they scare me. In terms of who I like

Diavolo [toxic slutch privileges]

Dio [sorry hes just such a bad bitch]

Kars [she's my best friend, not really a villain but deserves to be on here]

Pucci [Many thoughts but I trust my friends like Quintus to do him justice, pucci is funny though but please go to therapy instead of projecting]

The bitch who shall not be named

I JUSTS RELAIZESXD IO FORGOT KIRA. I PROMISE ITS NOT ON PURPOSE I WAS JUST LIKE HMMM WHO AM I MISSING FROM HERE BUT PKFSDFKJHGSDFLKGJSFGJKHSFG IM SORRY I DONT SEE HIM AS A CHARCATER HES LIKE. AN ENTITY BUT NOT IN A FUNNY KARS WAY HE ONLY SCARES ME I DONT CARE ABT HIS CHARACTER anyways these r the ones that scare me [With Kira]

Kira [i think hes the best jojo villain in terms of playing his role and bringing that awful unsettling feeling that shit is WRONG]

I'm gonna be honest everyone else is under here in near the same level because I'm only really scared by kira. pucci isn't scary for me bc i was raised around Catholics, whats he gonna do? preach to me? kars is my friend and everyone else id have no way of meeting bc I'm in Mexico yall stay safe though 🙏

56. Any headcanons?

LITERALLY SOOOOOO MANYYYYYYY im only gonna mention some that im obsessed with rn bc its so much dude I have a google docs just for the main p5 cast and its like. 4 pages long

anywaysssss

Akira and Yukako are siblings its true to me it happened and its real like they're SOOO SIBLINGS. they are going to the powerlines and throwing bricks at it and causing electrical damages I could talk about them for hours

I RLLY LIKE THE ONE where the reason Jolyne can turn her midriff into a Mobius strip for the strings is that Jotaro was so traumatized from seeing Kakyoin having a hole in his stomach he passed that trauma onto her and it was a form of protection so she'd never have to go through that again. there's this one post from a couple years ago that says this beautifully but i don't think i can find it

anyways. funny one next: Tiziano almost exclusively uses toxic paints because "theyre the best quality" best friend that's mercury you're snorting

Fugo cut those holes as a way to 'stay clean' from self harm and as a reminder that he's not touched. victim to victim communication

ALSO i rlly like that idea that stands will manifest if the user is experiencing strong emotions [ex Giorno gets super excited and starts growing flowers around]

another stand based one is that when you get your stand they change something physical abt you [like Yukako's hair got wayyy long and thicker bc of Love Deluxe, Diavolo's eyes turned into that shattered green bc of King Crimson, shit like that]

Abbacchio had one hell of a gender adventure. the 'well I'm fascinated by femininity but I'm not a girl' to 'well i like being called a girl but by strangers by presumption' to 'Wait.'

I was talking abt this to Raph earlier but Reimi likes to scare ppl in the alley like that scene in Beetlejuice with the fucked up faces

She tried it on Yukako and she was like. Holy shit can you do that again?

This is bc Yukako is a horror fan through and through. her gay awakening and first movie crush was the girl from the ring SOBS

Also I see Yukako as a lesbian because her arc literally reminds me so much of comphet and the fucking lengths I've gone to be like 'wellll i Have to like men'

This is stolen from a rlly good fic but Akira was struck by lightning as a kid

Fugo is a fucking HATER. this is just canon but whatevs

I think its be fun for Mista to experiment with the Genderisms through drag

Trish and her punk album can be something so personal

Ok tahts rlly long but im always willing to give hcs on fucking. Anything bc my brain is so fat and juicy with intelligence 24/7 its so hard ANYWAYS THIS WAS FUN

#long post #fav #ask game #rhaa talks

[tendousthoughts]

OMG YOURE BACK

i used to check every day to see if maybe you came back but after a while i lost hope and even after you posted about why you’ve been offline i still checked every day but then i gave up BUT YOURE BACK AND IM SO HAPPY

i though about sending something to see how you’ve been doing but i didn’t wanna bother you in case you wanted to be alone and have some time to yourself

anyway hru?

- 🍍 anon

OMG DHDHDH okay i keep checking in randomly so i’ll probably do that more in case u answer. tbh i thought u forgot about me so i’m glad ur still here <3333. idk when this was sent but u don’t know how happy i am too see this.

ANYWAYS. im good hbu??? i love fall season sooo yk, being able to dress up and everything is so nice.

anyways what have u been up too???? i missed talking to u sm. hopefully ur well <333

OMG I FORGOT TO SAY SMTH.

alr alr i am working on this NON fanfic related story.. it’s like 20 google doc pages already and i’m not even halfway done. as always it is bxb and uh it is angst bc yk how much i love to make people cry. it is focused around two people mainly, one being a ghost and the other being his ex lover. it is told in the ghost perspective. the basics follow how he has to watch as his ex lover falls in love again, and all the misery that has followed his death. including how his ex lover blames himself bc of the mc death, and how he reflects on how badly he had treated him while he was around (even if that reflection was due to other people forcing it into his head). it shows therapy visits, fights with new lovers, gravesite visits, and much more. SO IF ANYONE IS INTERESTED AND SEE THIS PLZ TELL ME SO I CAN KNOW IF I SHOULD POST IT HERE. i promise my word choices and my actual writing is better now <333.

UPDATE:

i feel so bad the last time i posted/checked in was 3 months ago. i need to do it more. i’m so sorry :( don’t be mad plz.

ANOTHER THING I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT:

alr heres one of the rare times when y’all get a inside of my life. there is this dude who me and him liked eachother last year but nothing happened. he got this rlly big glow up this year but that’s besides the point. anyways so he has alr had like 2/3 girlfriends in the last 4/5 months :((( and like every time he breakup with them he hits me up. and my irl friends tell me to literally block him bc at this point i’m there just as a rebound but like whenever we talk it’s strangely nice yk? anyways i don’t ever talk to him in person even tho i see him like a lot :( maybe bc last year we ended with nothing happening. i do not want to date him bc i know how that will end but yk at the same time we only talk when he breaks up with a girl and that’s just idk. too much for me.

another guy: One of my friends is also like seemingly rlly into a guy who i had a past fling with. we ended bc we fought over smth important to me, but he still doesn’t see a problem with.. he went to ask my friends what’s happening in my family bc i didn’t want to tell him.?? lucky my friends just pretend not to know. (it was smth else btw.) anyways but we have yet to talk again and i’m pretty sure he’s gonna ask out one of my other friends.

- xic (i forget how i used to sign off sorry :(((( , y’all don’t be disappointed it’s been so long)

#tendousthoughts #xic.answers #🍍.anon #oml i missed u #ily <333 #alr alr #anyways plz answer

[serendipitous-magic]

What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?

If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.

-_-_-_-

1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.

_-_

2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.

Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.

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3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.

However, here are the rules you must follow:

-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.

-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.

-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)

-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.

... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.

That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...

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4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.

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5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.

Here’s how I cheat that:

Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.

Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.

Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.

Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.

And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.

You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...

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6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.

“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”

You won’t.

Write it down.

Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.

And then, once you have it written down somewhere...

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7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.

Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.

Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.

(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)

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8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.

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9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.

But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.

Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”

Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.

Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”

This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.

If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.

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10) You don’t have to write in order.

Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.

But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.

Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.

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11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.

If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.

If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.

When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.

This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery. 

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12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.

Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.

Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.

Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.

Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.

They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.

Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.

Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.

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13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.

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14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.

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15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.

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16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.

I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”

And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.

Here are the things you must know about your character:

a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?

And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.

b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?

Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story. 

It also informs character behavior and personality. 

Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.

Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.

These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.

Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.

In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.

Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.

Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.

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I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.

Best of luck!

Edit: I forgot an important one:

17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.

What do I mean by that?

If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”

Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.

Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.

#asks #anon #writing advice #writing tips #writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction #character creation #plot development #character development #my advice #original writing

[evilphrog]

Watching Wheel of Time without reading the books: Episode 5

Wow. Damn. That was a powerful episode. I needed some time to recover before I could write this up. This one hit home for several reasons. Advance warning, this is 4 entire pages long on my google doc, and much less funny than previous ones.

So we start off with the burial scene, which for some reason these people bury their dead about 2 inches below ground level? Why???? Is there an in-universe reason for leaving corpses completely accessible to the local wildlife? Is this some sort of eco-friendly thing? Is the ground too frozen to dig further, even with magic? Are they afraid of digging too deep and accidentally awakening the Dark One? Is that why the Dark One had followers in the mining town? Is his power stronger in places closer to the core of the planet? Did the set designer just think it would look cool on camera? This really broke my immersion, but then I was brought right back in when the guys actually had visibly longer hair after a month of travel. Yes, thank you! But also, this bit of world building confirms that Rand isn’t capable of growing facial hair. Don’t worry, Rand. You’ll get there in time.

The way they could introduce a character halfway through last episode and then dedicate the majority of this episode to his emotional battle, and have me actually care and then be devastated when he died? What fucking brilliant acting, brilliant scriptwriting, brilliant direction, just wow wow wow. Kudos to everyone involved, because I think this is a super rare thing for any TV show. You could see Stepin’s pain reflected in Lan and Moiraine, who we already cared about. But that wasn’t the only reason I cared. He gave such a realistic portrayal of grief in the early days. Just the absolute, shell-shocked numbness, the monotone recitations of his memories that conveyed so much emotion. The way all the other warders came together to support him because he was currently living their worst fear. He was so lost and scared and hopeless. And on the outside, his friends see him start to reach out for support, and think “Hey, he’s getting better.” But it’s just an illusion because the reason he feels better is that he has made his decision.

“Love is usually a bad idea. Still, we allow it to happen, or this life would be intolerable.” And then he kills himself. That isn’t someone who thinks he will never be happy again. That is someone who understands his capacity for healing and moving on, and makes a deliberate choice not to, because he never wants to feel further away from the person he loves. He isn’t scared of losing someone again. He is scared of finding peace and comfort, and that doing so would be a base betrayal. He is choosing not to let himself love again, knowing that it will mean his life is no longer worth living. Grief and loss are done so badly so often in media, but this show really gets what it means to everyone left behind.

Moiraine got a lot more depth in this one. I said to my husband “Oh wow, so Moiraine has a sense of humor. Is that new, or is it just because this is the first time I’ve seen her not actively dying?” He said that was actually the part of the show that had been bothering him most. He thought Moiraine was too serious, and is now relieved to see that was an intentional choice to drive home how badly hurt she was. As a nonreader, that didn’t really translate for me. I just thought she was a doom and gloom type person until now. It’s good to see her a bit more comfortable, even in a setting where she says she is least comfortable. I loved her interactions with Nynaeve juxtaposed with the other Aes Sedai. She may act like she doesn’t pick up on subtext or human emotions at all, but that’s not true. She is just way better at one-on-one interactions than in groups. No wonder she ran away. Her scenes with JK Rowling were so hilarious because JK is just trying her best to give backhanded compliments and keep everything as subtextual threats, and then Moiraine just drops a lead brick through the entire conversation like “You hate men, and my new bff thinks you’re a loser.”

She told the green Aes Sedai who I’m deciding to call Polly (genuinely, Moiraine is the only one I’ve met so far with a unique name. The rest of them were named by someone filling a bag with Scrabble tiles that only contain vowels and the letters N, L, D, and R, and then just drawing at random. I swear at least 4 of them are named Allana.) that she read about a way to break a bond between an Aes Sedai and her warder. That seems like foreshadowing. She and Lan really care about each other. I think that, as much as she wants to spare Lan the pain of potentially losing her, she also wants to spare herself the pain of losing him. Bad news for you though, Moiraine. Breaking your psychic bond won’t break your love for each other. You are going to be devastated either way. As a side note, everyone is saying it’s rare for an Aes Sedai to die before her warder. How long is their life expectancy? Because I have not seen a single woman over 50 here. Do they age more slowly? Are all these ladies actually like a hundred years old? Is this conversation hinting that Moiraine is actually dying? Or is it just that she’s the reckless one of the group, and therefore voted Most Likely to Die Violently in the Aes Sedai yearbook? She and Lan are in tears at the end, and I am wondering if they know something about each other’s fate/health status.

Seeing Lan express his emotions more openly was fantastic. I don’t just mean the screaming at the end. I am not sure whether that was part of the ritual or not, so I’m not counting it. I mean him talking about how he feels, hugging his friends, crying in front of others, etc. He isn’t Mr. Stoic all the time. He just focuses on the task at hand when there is one.

Perrin and Egwene’s arc:

Damn, lots going on there. When Aram led Egwene and Perrin off to run I was scratching my head at how they could possibly not be noticed running through such sparse woods dressed in bright rainbows. Then they were immediately intercepted and I was like "ah, yep. Not a plot hole after all."

Perrin is finally starting to share his thoughts, rather than just asking more questions to get more data/context. And all it took was literal torture. I knew it was coming, but Perrin begging to die because he thinks he deserves it was so sad and hard to watch. I adore Egwene’s ability to absorb all that information in .05 seconds before coming to the response of “No, it wasn’t your fault, and I’m going to make sure you live long enough to believe that.” And Perrin thought she meant she was going to sacrifice herself, but she had a Plan.

I can really see now why Nynaeve thought Egwene would make a good Wisdom. She too gets absolutely feral when she needs to, but has the self-control to turn it on and off as the situation demands. Props to her for learning the lesson of strategic non-truthing right out of the gate.

Egwene: Look at me trying my best to channel this tiny little fireball. I’m so helpless and pathetic. Oh, and I also freed my very pissed off best friend who could easily kill you. Oh, but I am also going to go ahead and be the one to kill you because I know his conscience couldn't handle having to make that decision. And now I have successfully taken care of the problem and am going to take this moment to fall back into panic mode.

And then the Wolf Friends came to the rescue, and I may have scared my husband a bit by gleefully laughing and cheering every time a Whitecloak got brutally torn to shreds. "Haha that's what you fucking get! Go wolf friends!" I typically cry when anyone dies, including villains, so that can tell you a bit about my opinion on the Whitecloaks.

Perrin has clearly been observing and thinking about this mysterious connection to his wolf friends for quite some time, without communicating it. He ran from the wolves with Egwene earlier, but only because she wanted to run. He was still processing and thinking about what it all meant. When he first had his hidden leg wound and the wolves were being so friendly to him, I was a bit worried he was slowly turning into a trolloc. They seem like they could be the type of species that propagates similar to zombies. Get bitten by a trolloc, the trolloc poison turns you slowly into one unless you get treated. But this appears to be a wrong conclusion. The cut was maybe a red herring, and Wolf Friends are just a coincidence? Is he like Aquaman but for wolves? His eyes glow gold when he’s in distress, but it doesn’t seem to unlock any superhuman strength. He’s strong, but just regular “My day job is blacksmith” strong. Is that how he channels the One Power? By psychically shouting for help from all nearby wolves? Does this work on other animals also? Are wolves the only ones we see because he has a special connection to them specifically, or are they just in a place where wolves are the most common species?

Mat and Rand: Dumb and Dumber but with more gay subtext.

Mat may say he has been stealing to try and get home to his family, but I’m now 90% sure he is actually just starting a Cursed Objects collection. Items in the collection so far: demon knife, magic crystal, dog figurine, doll that definitely isn’t possessed. Hard to say which one is affecting him the most right now, but my money is on the knife. He pushed the little kid, and my initial reaction was “Hey, no, Mat would NEVER” but then I realized he is terrified of himself because he thinks he will black out and commit murders. Rand is the only one allowed near him, and I do not think it’s because he trusts himself to not hurt Rand. It’s because he trusts Rand to beat the shit out of him if he tries. His broken little voice as he asks Rand to tell him he wasn’t the murderer, and Rand emphatically assuring him that he saw the Fade kill the family when he in fact did NOT see any such thing just drives home how strong Rand’s loyalty and faith in his friends goes. He knows full well it could have been Mat, but just like Egwene and Perrin, he knows the only possible way Mat would have done it would be if he wasn’t in control of his own body.

When Mat makes Rand promise to kill him if he goes mad, I get the feeling Rand did not realize what he was agreeing to. I think Rand interpreted it as “Keep me sane and protect me from being caught” instead of “Murder me so I don’t end up as a sad caricature of all my worst traits.”

Rand meeting the ogier person, fantastic bit of levity that was desperately needed. Loial reminds me of my grandparents explaining American culture to us. He’s very passionate and excited about learning a new culture, but he’s also a bit condescending, and that leads to gaps in knowledge that have hilarious results. “Oh, you are missing a girl from the Two Rivers? I saw this girl with a braid, she is obviously who you’re looking for!” This is now the second hint at Rand being an Aiel, so I’m wondering about some things. We don’t know too much about his parents at this point.

The reunion with Nynaeve and the boys was so beautiful. Rand is so overjoyed and relieved, and I think a large part of that is “Oh thank the Light, finally there’s an adultier adult. Nynaeve can handle this!” He is not someone who is used to keeping secrets, or being the responsible one in the friend group. Props to him for doing the best he could, and even more props to him for asking for help the second he found someone he could trust.

Watching Nynaeve interact with these kids she grew up with versus the Aes Sedai and the warders is really beautiful. She slips right into Mom Friend mode and provides comfort and support. I am wondering how old she was when Egwene was sick. She tells the story as though she was an adult at the time, but she was 15 tops, maybe younger if she or someone else was lying about her actual age like I suspect. Must have been horrifying for her to watch a close friend nearly die, and I wonder if she unconsciously used her healing super powers for the first time then. Or maybe even consciously. Maybe she knew all along she had that much capability, but either didn’t know how to access it, or was warned not to ever use it because of the risk of burning out or something. Rewatching the end of episode 4, her facial expressions look less like “Holy cow I can’t believe I did this” and more “Oh shit, now things are going to suck forever.”

I adore the way this show portrays healthy platonic relationships. This entire culture seems to be very tactile with displays of affection. Holding hands, hugging, etc. It’s all just the way people show they care. That makes a lot of sense for a world where bisexuality and polyamory are so common. There would be less rigid distinctions between types of affection. Lan and Moiraine aren’t necessarily oddballs for this. Nynaeve and Rand can hold hands. Egwene can hang off Perrin’s arm. Rand and Mat can snuggle at night. Sometimes these are romantic, sometimes they aren’t. It depends on the context. Everything is so structured around community bonds and mutual aid. Men express their feelings and nobody mocks them for it. People ask for help when they need it, and actually expect to receive it because they have consistently received help in the past. It’s basically a giant middle finger to self-sufficiency. I love to see it. I want to live in this world.

Other episode reviews

#wheel of time #wot prime spoilers #nonreader #liveblog #meta #evilphrog reviews

[btsandvmin]

BTSandVMIN update: On “Spring Day analysis”, making videos and creating a Patreon

There are a few things I would like to talk to you all about, and things I have been thinking about for a while. I thought it was time to give you all a bit of an update on the things I am doing, want to do and how I might have to do them.

Ok, so first of all, as you know I have been working on the Spring Day analysis for quite some time now. In fact I have been working on it for so long it has long since stopped being just about Spring Day. Rather than being about Spring Day and Vmin it has become a collection post where I go through many similarities in Vmin’s (in particular Taehyung’s) songs and discuss themes and topics with Spring Day simply as the main foundation of inspiration.

The text kept getting longer and currently it is around 24 000 words long + images (130+ pages in google docs). I honestly don’t think Tumblr will be able to handle it. I have been thinking about what to do with longer posts for a while, especially after the Vmin analysis - 4 o’clock which didn’t show up in the tag, loaded very slowly, took a long time to re-make in tumblr format and also didn’t get that many notes. You all know I have struggled and complained about longer posts here on tumblr many times. Thus I have wondered what to do if I want to keep making them in a way that works. In particular even longer pieces like this “Spring Day analysis” or my even longer “Big Vmin analysis”, which might be very difficult to make here on tumblr in a way that you can all read properly. (Several of you have even told me about your app crashing when trying to read some of my posts and honestly Tumblr just isn’t made for very longs posts with many images.)

After looking into it a bit I decided to make a Patreon just to try, and I could literally copypaste the whole post with images and all in just a few seconds. (WHY IS IT SO HARD TUMBLR?)

Another reason I finally decided to make a Patreon is so that I could create a small community space for me and you; a discord. Through Patreon you get access and I can talk to you guys more freely, and you can also simply use the discord as your own place to enjoy and discuss BTS and Vmin with other Vminies that join my Patreon. I thought this seemed like a fun idea since I can’t properly talk to you all in more conversational ways here (even less so since this is a side-blog), and by having it through Patreon it also limits the discussions from possible toxic outsiders. Basically a safe space away from the haters and antis.

There were also the reactions I got after making my first Vmin video. I talked about that a lot, in many posts:

A personal dilemma What kind of power to influence shippers into becoming delusional do I really have? I don’t know what to do… Making videos…

The concerns I got about me making Vmin videos made me question what to do, and if I should stop making analysis all together if people really worried about what it might lead to. I want to do more good than bad, for the community and for BTS. I am hoping having this space and the discord might make it feel easier for me to keep doing this more comfortably.

I also got some really really sweet messages from so many of you that honestly warmed my heart so much. I mean, there is little I can say to truly let you know what those messages mean to me. Just as one example:

Thank you, to every single one of you for not only sending me love but also understanding and respecting my worries. It means more to me than you will ever know.  💜

The thing is that I don’t want to stop. I still very much enjoy writing and gushing about Vmin, and I also really kind of want to try making videos. So back when this all happened a few of you suggested Patreon, as a way to limit who sees my videos. And after thinking about it I decided to make one, for several reasons.

It might help me to have longer analysis. It keeps away unwanted attention and hate. I can moderate more and have better control. We can talk with each other more freely. I can post things I feel a bit unsure about sharing to the general audience. I could do videos without worrying too much. (And it might also help me with an extra income?)

Don’t get me wrong, I won’t stop posting things here for free, but I think I will post longer posts and perhaps more “analysing” types of videos if I ever get to that point on Patreon. Likely I will post shorter versions that Tumblr can handle, or divide posts into parts here, but keep longer versions intact on Patreon. So the idea is not to stop doing things here but rather to add some other things and extra stuff on Patreon (basically some bonus material, maybe some behind the scenes, sneak peaks and polls).

Right now my Patreon only has one tier “I purple you”, but if things go well the plan is to create a second tier if I ever decide to make videos more frequently and perhaps add some bonus material like Q&A videos where you can ask questions and I talk about them. (I am not sure yet, I don’t even know if videos is something that people will like.) 

I’ve set the price at 15 SEK, which is a bit less than 2 US dollars/month. I don’t know what I might do further ahead, but for now basically it will mostly be some bonus stuff, a way to read longer texts in full (because I will have to divide it into parts here on Tumblr) and a community platform (and of course also a way to support me).

I hope you will check it out and join me! I am especially excited about the discord and getting to talk to you all in a new more casual way!

https://www.patreon.com/btsandvmin

Right now I have the Spring Day analysis posted (I will post it here too, but I need to figure out how to divide it in parts in a good way.) and I also have 2 chapters of my Vmin fanfiction “The last color is our spring”. (Seriously, I suck at naming fics, it’s honestly one of the hardest parts.) Again, I do plan to post some updates, and basically “first edits” of posts or things I feel a bit unsure about talking about here (like more analytical videos), but for now mostly it’s a way to support me and join the discord so we can share our love for Vmin together. 💜

Also, even if you don’t join I will still appriciate you all and the love you give me here. Seriously, this is mostly meant for you, and only if you want it and like it will there be any point to have it. I feel it is worth giving it a try. 

Become a Patron!

#btsandvmin #btsandvmin update #vmin analysis #this blog #my post

[longlivefeedback]

I spent three months working on my fic. The art is also amazing. And just 7 kudos. Shortly after, a fic appeared, that was literally a copy of MY fic and badly written, and just 1000 words, and this fic have more kudos now. I really want to cry

I’m sorry Anon. This may sound like impossible advice and is really just random words from a stranger on the internet that doesn’t know anything about you, but the best thing I would encourage you to do is to stop comparing your worth to others.

We live in a world of numbers where “value” is measured by views, likes, clicks, and any other metric companies can think up and put on a UI. In a world of Instagram influencers, Big Name Fans, and the Twitter-famous, we’re being told that bigger is better, more likes means more love, and the more interactions you have, the more important you are.

Do not do this with your writing. I get it. The AO3 stats are Right There. Front and center. Unignorable. Writing is lonely. It feels like screaming into the void, and after all that work, surely someone will give you the validation you deserve, right? After all, that other writer and their work got it. So why not me?

It’s not wrong to want that, Anon. It’s not wrong to love and share and want that love reciprocated. I would argue that it is very very human, and a very beautiful thing that you are reaching out, labouring over something you love, putting a bit (a lot) of yourself out there, hoping for some of that love back.

But as long as you’re always looking over your shoulder, always wondering why them and not you, why do they have more more more, why why why...you’re never going to be happy. And if this is the situation you find yourself in with your writing, I’m afraid that it will destroy your love of writing.

I’ve seen it happen. Writers turning bitter. They get angry. They get disappointed. They start asking questions. “Why can’t readers comment?” “Why don’t readers say anything?” “How do I get more kudos/comments/hits?” And sometimes they stop writing. They stop doing the thing they love. They stop creating. Why write and post when no one is going to appreciate it?

There’s really only one person whose answer matters: You.

When it comes down to it, You, the author, are the only person that should matter. How do you feel about your writing? Did you tell the story you wanted to tell? What did you learn?

No one is going to love your story more than you. No one knows your story better than you. No one knows the bits that made it in, and the bits that didn’t. No one really knows which parts you struggled with, which one caused you the most tears, which ones you’re the most proud of because it was so hard for you to write.

Every time I see a fic I’m in awe. Because it’s a labor of love. It’s something someone tried, something someone wanted to do, regardless of the writer’s skill, experience, or English proficiency. It’s something someone created, for fun or as a way to heal. It’s part of them and their own personal journey in this funny thing we call life. It’s something they decided to spend what precious time we all have in this world on and it’s what they’ll leave behind. It’s beautiful because it exists and You made it. And if you are the only one who sees and appreciates that. So be it. It’s your writing. It’s a bit of you. Will you really be happy if everyone else loves it except you?

So find your reason to write. Try not to let it be something that is dependent on things you cannot control and the numbers attached to it. Aren’t you a little tired of being constantly measured, compared, and criticized because what you did isn’t big enough or loved enough or good enough? Why can’t the pure act of writing just be enough?

If you’re still reading this and are thinking to yourself, “easier said than done” or “it’s all very well for me to say these things, but what can you actually do about this” then maybe here are some things you can try to distance yourself from the addicting pull of the numbers popularity game:

1. Take a step back - Try to be self-aware and realize what your expectations and goals are when you post a fic. I would refrain from an outcome that you cannot control. Number of hits/kudos/comments are things you cannot control. Who reads your fic and what they say are largely things you cannot control. What other writers post and what their readers say are things you cannot control. Realize that there’s always going to be a “bigger” and “better” fic by the numbers. There’s always a bigger fish. Don’t fall into the trap of measuring the worth of a fic, and by extension yourself, by numbers that you cannot control.

2. Find a friend - Someone whose feedback you cherish and who can laugh and cry with you and give you that feel good feeling we get when we share things, the communal creatures that we are. Share your love with them and have fun!

3. Participate in an exchange - Much easier to feel happy about a response to a fic when it’s specifically made and targeted to one single person. As long as that person likes it, mission accomplished! Also, exchanges usually have a community (fellow participants, mods, betas) for the event who can give you feedback as well. It’s a pretty good way to make some new fandom friends too!

4. Get feedback from the right people - If you are looking for feedback to improve on your writing, try to find someone whose opinion you respect and who you can build a relationship with. Constructive criticism is often very personal and takes a lot of trust between the giver and the recipient. It will take some time to build enough trust with a beta/friend/reader, so be patient with them, yourself, and the process. If you are able to build enough trust with someone you want feedback from, I find it helpful to be specific when you ask for feedback: “The pacing feels off here. What do you think?” “Can you help me show XYZ? I want it to feel like ABC.” “Does A seem to be too childish here?” “Is B acting out of character?” “Is there too much description on this page and did you lose interest?” Take their feedback at face value and try to keep an open mind. Communication is key to any relationship and it is no different with something like this.

5. Write, but do not post - Write your fic. Create. Put it down in words. But if you can’t stop yourself from constantly comparing yourself to others, don’t put yourself in that position. Just don’t post your fic. Let it sit in google docs, Word, or whatever word processor you used to bring your thought to life. Don’t gamble your happiness on things you can’t control. Find another reason to write.

Be honest with yourself about why you write. Try to stop comparing yourself and your fic to others. Don’t let something that should bring you joy be a source of sorrow.

#llf asks #long post #well this turned out long #hope this helps even a little bit anon

[dykefoosh]

My New Purpose Transcript: 8/4/21

It's the entire thing! Heres it on a google doc if thats easier!

T: Hello, Big Q! Hello?

Q: Ah! OH, oh, sorry sorry sorry sorry, I was just just making sure that they went- they left hehh

T: Are you alright?

Q: That was ha-heh

T: That was, that was pretty

Q: No no no yeah that was interesting huh

T: Yeah I didn’t expect that- but they seem to be a lot more you know like… agitated then I thought. I didn't think this was gonna be too much of a big deal hehe

Q: Ha ha well yeah it's just what happens when people start you know.. when people start competing against you…

T: Yeah yeah

Q: And Tubbo here’s the thing, the saying I’ve always heard… is people will root for you until you are doing better then them alright?

T: Really?

Q: When you start doing better than them, that's when everyone turns on you and starts getting jealous and all that… you know um so I think this is a situation where maybe I don’t know Wilbur was rooting for us until

T: Until

Q: We started doing better than them?

T: Heh yeah I mean we know, you know we haven’t really made any burgers yet and we’re not quite doing better yet but we should- we gotta work on that

Q: Oh Tubbo, Tubbo you shouldn’t even worry about that, I have so much trust in you to run this place, you know, I- this, this place ah has had the possibility of having many employees and I thought you were the best, and you, you were telling me telling me this whole thing about how you needed to find purpose, how you needed to do something

T: Yeah

Q: And um, you know this, this I think this is a good place to start!

T: I just want to say thank you so much for letting me work here man I feel like I’ve not had much to do ever now since I’ve had this job like its nice to finally have a purpose, something to do, a reason to do stuff

Q: Yeah Tubbo listen, it doesn’t have to end here, a lot of things are happening in the country you know there’s a lot of people in here um

T: Yeah yeah

Q: Things move forward in a really really good way and Tubbo I- I trust you I mean we were comrades in Lmanburg and all of that so this is, this is great this is really good

T: Thank you I appreciate that

Q: But

T: Especially after that little blip we had

Q: Yeah, thats what I was gonna say- but

T: Yeah

Q: I don’t want to ruin, I don’t want to ruin the moment but there is something we have to discuss

T: Yeah yeah maybe we should head over there, yeah okay

Q: I, listen I’m putting a lot of trust in you

T: I appreciate that as well

Q: But we ah

T: This is a really nice- this is really exciting

Q: I do want to talk about that one thing um and we never really discussed it

T: Yeah we kind of yeah we left it, I kind of didn’t want to jeopardize my chances of getting the job you know?

Q: no and at the end of the day its not even about the job Tubbo it's more that our friendship and the history we had together

T: Yeah

Q: I think that's the most important part to me because you know what? Um jobs come and go, you you are meant for so many bigger things, this is where we’re starting Tubbo but you know um

T: Yeah you know, first this, tomorrow the world I guess

Q: Yeah absolutely - waha I’m just, I’m gonna be straight up with you wh-a

T: Why the fuck is there a duck on it? Haha

Q: What what's this tubbo?

T: I’m gonna be honest thats not me- I didn’t I didn’t do that one

Q: So the cookie outpost, we had a discussion, you and me we were fighting

T: Yeah it was getting pretty heated

Q: And so what is this really for tubbo?

T: It was to mainly sell cookies if i'm honest, I - I just I- I wasn’t myself that day

Q: Tubbo… Tubbo….. Tubbo….

T: Yeah?

Q: What was it actually for?

T: I- uh just wanted to keep an eye on you I wanted to see what everyone was up to, it wasn’t a sign of aggression or anything I kind of wanted to see what everyone was up to and me being nosy, I wasn’t acting like myself, I’m sorry

Q: I- I it just felt super uh out of nowhere and build this whole entire thing

T: Yeah this complex

Q: In Front of my country so um, you know what uh, it still feels a little weird, it it feels like a needle poking, I have no problems with you but there is something there that keeps me uneasy

T: Yeah, I 100% understand that

Q: Tubbo, I don’t think , this is a really nice structure, this is a really nice structure.

T: Aw I appreciate that

Q: You have full ownership of this place right?

T: More or less yeah, Started it all out under my name, definitely, I mean I’d like to leave the past in the past you know and just work on building from there

Q: I- I can’t figure out any other way to do that than probably to take- no no you know what Tubbo? You know what?

T: What?

Q: Clean slate clean slate. I don’t think we should take it down because at the end of the day, you, you built it and I think its uh

T: I think it also helps show my initiative on what I can bring to the burger shop as well.

Q: Of course, of course but I have an idea, how about we integrate this land, this structure into Las Nevadas?

T: Wait, you want it to become part of Las Nevadas?

Q: Yeah yeah!

T: That could be cool

Q: Yeah you know what we can- forget about everything in the past forget about everything in the past, we can integrate this beautiful place into las Nevadas its built close its built in proximities,

T: It makes sense it's on the outskirts and maybe-

Q: Yeah, yeah yeah yeah so we can integrate it into the las Nevadas outskirts and we can do you like that idea? Are you down with that? We can just make it part of las Nevadas

T: Well yeah yeah I mean

Q: It’s your structure, your property

T: Yeah i'm a little apprehensive but I mean as long as I get ownership, it's just that you own the land

Q: Yeah yeah yeah! I own the land, its like rent but you’re not going to be paying rent obviously

T: Yeah yeah yeah

Q: I just can't make sure this can be part of Las Nevadas and so there’s no confusion and stuff. Is this cool with you?

T: Yeah its cool with me just like keep it as it is, keep the pond keep the farms

Q: Yeah it's your ownership but yeah it does have to be a part of Las Nevadas land and everything. How about we make it official?

T: You want to make it official?

Q: Yeah yeah yeah I have a book and quill

T: Oh, okay I wasn’t expecting you to move this quickly already. Could we sign it up to the top of the needle so we can have a look at it while we do it, you recon?

Q: That is a wonderful idea, let's go there right now.

T: Yeah I mean it makes sense, its where we first had our first discussion about this, it only makes sense to you know cross the t’s dot the eyes, put the past in the past

Q: Yes yes especially since its part of las Nevadas

T: Yeah It makes sense to sign it in one of the most significantly important buildings in las Nevadas here I'd say

Q: Absolutely Absolutely tubbo, hey I think it's great you’re taking steps to move your life forward um wow- how you know, I haven't really spoke to you properly after everything that happened in Lmanburg

T: Yeah everything with Technoblade… Damm

Q: Yeah we talked about this whole project and you and me but um you know what I want to know a little bit about your insight of what happened in lmanburg and all of that

T: What happened with Lmanburg? Oh yeah I didn't see you after Technoblade left, to be honest I haven't seen much of Technoblade either, I barely have seen anything or anyone, like yeah I kind of have been isolated on my own just hanging out, like I said no kind of purpose, just walking around, drifting kind of you know living in the past mainly and im trying to move that behind me, uh well what happened with- uh after um well you went Awol in lmanburg well its all kind of a blur, all the values just changed away um like we lost our core values and the country fell after that. Which is really, yeah that's more or less it.

Q: Yes, yes sorry I feel like I’m not paying enough attention, im writing the thing im sorry my bad

T: No its fine

Q: We will insert the coordinations later but yeah, just yeah really fast just sign that

T: So “Tubbo cookie outpost proper is now part of las nevadas land and is under its rules and constitution.” Yeah this um

Q: yeah we’ll well insert the coordinates later

T: I- I sign on the second page right?

Q: Yeah yeah yeah go ahead and sign it on yeah the second page there

T: Okay done and I still feel like I own the property there, everything still belongs to me it's just part of las Nevadas which is cool

Q: Right which, right it's just part of las Nevadas, its territory,, its rules constitution and all that, but you inergreating into the country is that first big step and Tubbo,

T: Yeah?

Q: I just want to say thank you for your disposition to just to just you know help out with las Nevadas and everything it- it means a lot you wanting to manage the place and again I felt like it was the right thing for you

T: Aw thank you man.

Q:I mean briefly you told me about how much you miss Lmanburg, how much you miss those times….

T: Yeah it's been, it's been I’m gonna be honest it's been a little bit upsetting as of late especially, I’ve just been missing it as it was a year ago yesterday… it all started and I've been there since the beginning of it and to see where its all come now has been a bit upsetting

Q: I- yeah…

T: but it's really admirable with what you’ve done here,

Q: Thank you tubbo, thank you tubbo

T: It’s got a solid foundation, you're really inspiring I feel very inspired just looking around

Q: Thank you, thank you tubbo. You know, I uh, thank you, that means a lot man

T: It’s alright man

Q: It's been uh, things can, things can get difficult, but I appreciate that Tubbo, but at the end of the day, you know whatever you need from me, whatever you need or require anything at all from me tubbo, just let me know. That restaurant you managing it now, you have a project to go off on

T: Yeah

Q: And there’s a lot of opportunities so if there’s anything you need, anything else you need you can cem talk to me

T: Will do,

Q: And we’ll figure stuff out

T: Will do yeah, I think it's about time for me to get back to work, I wanna scope out - they apparently they said they had a burger shop they said so yeah

Q: Yeah

T: I wanna make sure we are taking strides in the right direction for the competition, i'm gonna make burgers that will be remembered.

Q: Right, would you want me to go with you? Would you want to-

T: I- I think I’ll go alone I think I can see it just actually, is it that little thing behind the pool area, by the penthouse thing?

Q: Yeah yeah I like to call it a market study

T: Yeah yeah

Q: Yeah I usually do that alone, so Tubbo, Tubbo, I’ll. Be up here

T: Yeah when I’m done with my market study we can come up with some groundbreaking material for the burger shop!

Q: Oh yeah absolutely, actually you know what, just meet me at the burger shop, I’ll be there working on it, making some changes doing some redecorating and stuff

T: Alright, sounds amazing! Again, thank you so much for the job!

Q: Of course Tubbo!

T: Thank you!

Q: Oh Tubbo you shouldn’t be thanking me, I should be the one thanking you- you you are a great, you are like a gear in the machine and you are one of †he most important gears in the machine, you know when the machine loses a gear and it- Tubbo you’re a pillar you’re like a pillar to our structure is what I’m saying

T: Aw thank you man I do appreciate it

Q: Alright

T: Catch you later mate

Q: Alright cya

T: Ohh I thought he was gonna be more upset about the cookie outpost, I thought he would be a bit more upset, Alright let's check out the burger shop, I think it's gonna be nice, I think it's gonna be really really nice because the way Wilbur described it it was a really nice place.. oh oh! Ranboos here!

Hello!

R: Oh! Oh uh - hel- hell- hello

T: Hi Uh

R: Uh ho- how are you doing?

T: Um im I’m doing alright

R: W- what were you up to?

T: Well I- I was just talking with Quackity over the burger business and stuff you know

R: Well is everything okay with that?

T: Yeah, Yeah I'm pretty sure it's fantastic!

R: You- you sure?

T: Yeah 100% I think it's going really well. Can I come inside? I kinda want to have a look at your place!

R: Sure- I mean its it's not all done we are still uh me and Wilbur are still working on it and stuff

T: Why do you trust Wilbur so much?

R: Hmm?

T: Why do you trust Wilbur?

R: Well, here here’s the thing, basically I I don’t trust trust Wilbur yet but I do have more trust in him then you do

T: Yeah

R: But I mean 13 years I mean a guy is gotta change throughout all of that right?

T: I mean I suppose so I don’t not think he has changed, I just think he has to have the opportunity to prove it because- trust

R: Yeah thats why, why I am here so when he does something that does redeem himself, then someone can be there that will be able to see it and everything and honestly I rather it be me the person, rather it be me than someone else. So um

T: I guess I guess that makes a lot of sense I guess, I I don’t know I guess I don’t think I feel I can put my life in his hands again if you know what I mean.. heheh..

R: Well this isn’t this isn't putting my life in his hands this is just making a little little burger shop and everything… Are you okay with all of this right?

T: Oh yeah I yeah its fine its fine

R: okay that's that

T: Yeah it's enjoyable, yeah I understand it all it makes a lot of sense

R: You sure you understand? Because like- if if you need me to stop, then i'll stop

T: Yeah yeah, I noticed, is there a reason that you haven't told Wilbur about the tax reasons.. marriage hehe

R: Yeah yeah thats just because from what I’ve heard from Tommy and everything the Wilbur that thirteen years ago at least used stuff against Tommy and everything so you know just incase I mean I still trust Wilbur not super fully just at least a little bit

T: Ahh, I can fully completely understand that honestly

R: I like working with him as well its nice it's just nice to do something

T: Yeah, fair enough, I think the competition will be good yeah I mean i'm very excited I haven't felt this happy in quite awhile, I feel like I finally got something under my belt, something I can you know really sync my teeth into and be apart of, it feels like I am part of a bigger cause now, like-

R: So, so you’re sure now that this is the - you’re all okay with what’s going on?

T: Yeah yeah it's just friendly competition man, it's gonna be awesome, if anything it will just be better for consumers which means its gonna be better for everyone

R: Yeah yeah that makes sense at least

T: I mean are you alright?

R: How did you bury the hatchet with Quackity though? That's what I don’t get…

T: Bury the hatchet, what do you mean by that?

R: I mean, how how did you make peace with him because the last time we spoke with him you were talking about how he had a roll in your… unfortunate uh removal of life

T: Yeah he did, but to be honest, this, it's a lot… Well no I’m not even sure it is as much Quackity’s fault as Wilburs, I don’t like- I was gonna die no matter what that day, it just happened. I mean, I I dont have much quarrel with him, he seems to uh I mean look at what he's built, he seems good

R: yeah

T: I mean I managed to also clean up all the ruckus over the cookie outpost and stuff as well so that's in the past now.

R: Wait, he's all okay with that now?

T: Yeah he promised me a good life,

R: What do you mean? Was your life not good before?

T: No- no no no no it was, he talked a lot about Lmanburg and he

R: That wasn’t really much of a good life for you though was it?

T: Oh no you- you’ve only heard the bad bits of Lmanburg, lmanburg was amazing

R: So he promised you the good bits?

T: Yeah yeah basically yeah which is awesome

R: Thats good thats good

T: Yeah so I- I figured out how to get rid of the tension regarding the cookie outpost, I signed a contract, dotted the t’s and the i’s put the past in the past I’m excited to uh keep moving forward its exciting

R: Okay… a-a awesome. So he's Okay with the cookie shop now?

T: Yeah hes 100% okay, we basically came the agreement,

R: Awesome

T: I wasn’t being myself like before when I was working on the cookie shop, I- I was

R: MHm

T: upset and sad and I - I was like I just wanted to have something to feel part of something bigger again but then I realized that instead of fighting the thing that would of given me that feeling I tried to make my own, I dug my heels in, it wasn’t really the right thing to do I-

R: mhm

T: So we signed a contract, so the cookie shop is owned by me. It just exists in las nevadas now and.. yeah, it follows its laws and regulations.

R: Okay So is, is everything everything, um everythings everythings… w- wait so how exactly sorry did you make Quackity okay with it all?

T: We went up to the needle, we just talked it out, we wrote up a contract, we talked it out, basically agreed to have the cookie shop become part of Las Nevadas. Because I mean-

R: Wait, you gave away the cookie shop??

T: I didn’t give away the cookie shop away, I still own it, its just now part of las nevadas,

R: part of las nevadas which is owned by quackity,

T: Well yeah, but not entirely

R: Y-yeah entirely,

T: no.. that's not how it works at all it it's still owned by me just exists in his territory

R: Which is property of las nevadas which is owned by quackery…….

T: Noooo it's not like that at all

R: Okay…. It seems like you just….

T: No there’s a lot more than that, it's not black and white like I just “gave it to him” I still own it I still have full control over it, it follows his laws which is fine

R: And his rules- ……..

awesome cool um that's great oh which would you look at that the bread is stale, it was nice um it was nice uh talking you to, I’m gonna go throw this bread in the river

T: Okay

R: Alright thanks for stopping on by, ill ill talk to you later alright?

T: uh okay, buh bye

R: bye

T: That was….. that was um uh I wasn’t expecting that to go uh quite like that, I didn’t think it mattered that much. wuhhh… uh that was I was not expecting to- he seemed, oh god that felt a little awkward, I I didn't, I mean it's mine to give away I built the entire place, I built all of it, that's so weird…. Okay I’m gonna come up with some burger recipes I didn't actually manage,

I probably should've done some research that would of been nice- OHFUCK

Q: oh god holy shit

T: Sorry honestly

Q: You fucking scared me

T: I didn’t notice you just then

Q: Tubbo tubbo you were supposed to be here uh work has already started your a little late

T: Oh sorry

Q: you’re a little late tubbo

T: sorry sorry, I’m sorry

Q: Remember we can’t build a kingdom here of fast-food burger- sorry sorry I got like 10 things in my mind right now uh tubbo

T: Yeah

Q: You can’t keep arriving late okay

T: Okay?

Q: We gotta make sure you- this place runs very well, listen I have an idea help me take this thing down

T: Oh, okay…

Q: You’re gonna love this tubbo, when Wilbur sees this because I know hes gonna be fucking spying around hes gonna freak out, hes gonna finally realize what an idiot- Wilbur is for whatever he decides to do

T: Why do you care so much about what Wilburs is doing?

Q: Check this out check this out

T: I’m excited for it

Q: That guy really thinks he can go in and blow up the godam restaurant, who does he think he is? Who does he godam think he is?!

T: I thought you weren’t that bothered?

Q: It’s so fucking annoying that he does this shit its annoying man. Check this out Tubbo, you ready?

T: What's this what’s this? Oh my gosh,

Q: What do you think?

T: That's awesome dude what the hell??

Q: I cant wait to see the look on- what his stupid fucking face is gonna look like- im gonna absolutely, Wilbur’s gonna see this and realize he messed with the wrong fucking person Tubbo and that I am no one you want to mess around with and his little buddy Ranboo is oh- oh sorry I don’t know if you, guys are friends-

T: Yeah yeah we are

Q: but for fucks sake they FUCKED up Tubbo

T: Did they?

Q: They fucked with the wrong person, he is going to regret what they did to me

T: What did they do?

Q: And to my fucking country

T: What did I feel kinda left out?

Q: What what?

T:What happened?

Q: I’m sorry, I'm sorry , ignore me, I'm just rambling, I'm just rambling, you know what we gotta do, besides selling burgers we gotta sell more shit, we gotta do this NFT, did you hear about these NFTs?

T: Yeah yeah, the turburgers NFTs?

Q: The tuburgers NFT system they have a system, we are gonna make a system too

T: Not just one, but TWO

Q: Yeah yeah, I need you to try this out, its Wilburs burger

T: Oh okay,

Q: It’s smelly— Tubbo, do you see this fish tank?

T: Yeah?

Q: It looks normal to you and it looks normal to them, but to them, they left a huge crater in my goddam restaurant and they could think they could fucking get away with that but this fishtanks means much more then that

T: Does it?

Q: IT means much more than that, this fishtanks is not who he thinks he is right? He used to be slick and all this powerful guy in lmanburg, he's not the same guy.

T: Do you think he's changed? Hes- old age I guess?

Q: Changedd? Haha Tubbo you think Wilburs changed? Comeon, Wilbur hasn’t changed one bit and Im excited, I’m excited once he realizes everything we are doing and everything we are up to its not gonna be the fucking same, I am going to destroy him, we’re gonna destroy him

T: woahhh

Q: WE”RE gonna destroy him in

T: friendly competition of course?

Q: yes yes of course

T: We aren’t gonna hurt them right?

Q: No no no no I’m sorry I get. Little startled

T: Financially maybe

Q: I’m sorry I’m sorry I just like completion

T: Competition is good for everyone, friendly, the only people that win here are the consumers and that's what matters. That could be our motto, “the customer is all that matters''

Q: I love it I love it, let's do that, lets do that Tubbo uh I apart from this, sorry I got a little startled I think it is important to recognise we need competition at the end of the day

T: Oh of course we can’t exist without them

Q: This is your place this is your place now its set in stone

T: That is such a cool sign

Q: You’re the manager, what's the next boss?

T: Do you want to hear my three step program? I have a three step program for this

Q: Oh sure sure!

T: Well be in the kitchen woohoo I thought of a couple of ways to make burgers quick and not sacrifice the flavor so from what I can see in their place they don’t have smokers and you still get the quality, we can smell smoked steak burgers

Q: Oh really??

T: We can sell the wagyu burgers if you know what I mean?

Q: Wait actually???

T: I think we are doing wagyu burgers,

Q: I love that I love that, Tubbo, based on what you’ve told me this means a lot to you.

T: Thank you

Q: Resources, items, what farms, what do you need, you say it's an important project, what do you need to make this thrive?

T: We need grain we need a lot of grain, we need a way to make fresh dough, our supplies are a little dire

Q: Just, just close that chest

T: This is like my first actual day

Q: We will get you the best of the best products

T: When will you get the grain farm down?

Q: Is grain different to wheat?

T: nonono its the same just we take the grain from the wheat and grind it to make the dough

Q: Tubbo, come with me… look at this!

T: WOAHHH

Q: I thought you had seen this

T: I must have completely overlooked this!

Q: Yeah!! And we also have a spot for meat. They are grass-fed tubbo. Look at this Tubbo listen, I want to emphasize that this is all you man, this is your project. The sign out there says tub burger so as far as i'm aware you are incharge of the restaurant. I know there’s also food regulations that are put down and stuff

T: Oh yeah yeah

Q: If you need any way around the constitution let me know

T: I noticed the kitchen is a little worse for wear, I noticed the kitchens a little, we are gonna have to get that cleaned up because it's probably a health violation

Q: Yeah yeah we will get that cleaned up for you

T: Yeah its really gunky its genuinely, it's really strange

Q: Ah I had a friend who lived there for a little while

T: In the kitchen……?

Q: Yeah he kinda was like yeah.. he left the place a little slimy, I’ll get it cleaned up

T: How… what?

Q: He he actually uh -

T: When was the last time he showered?

Q: You know what, you know what man? You should meet him one day

T: Does he still live there or does he have a place now?

Q: He-he's around I think, I haven't seen him in a bit but he can…. I haven't seen him in a bit of tubbo…. Besides before

T: You haven't seen him?

Q: He should come back soon

T: Well if you ever need anyone to lead a search if it gets to that point, I can do that

Q: No no no don’t worry

T: It’s not like a big deal- no?

Q: focus on your project instead of worrying about these other issues others may have…

T: Let's get started on naming the burgers shall we? Do you have any signs or. anything?

Q: Well for original or classic tubbo? The tubburger right?

T: Oh defiantly, we should number them so it's easier to order them and on this side we do like… gold, I’ve seen your city

Q: Ohhh so you’re thinking more than fast food

T: No i'm thinking we can account of the masses like the people who want that find dining and the people who want the quick bite

Q: That's genius

T: Do you want to know the second step in my three step program?

Q: Yes, yes tubbo of course

T: We need a drive through on this place, we need drive through wagyu beef

(Goes to break a wall down)

T: Wait- uh people live there

Q: uh I try to act impulsively its-

T: No no it's okay

Q: I really really

T: It makes sense

Q: I think it would be really badass

T: Yeah yeah, do you think we could get like a road going through here for the drive through, do you think that could work?

Q: Oh yeah yeah

T: They got a burger van, they are on the roads, we are in the roads if you know what I mean

Q: 100% tubbo, 100%, Tubbo you’re coming up with all of these great ideas I- I couldn’t of chose a better person to run this place then you tubbo

T: Aw thank you man

Q: I think that's one of your more underrated features

T: I’m gonna be honest I’m just enjoying a place to feel like I’m doing stuff again

Q: I don’t know if anyone has told you this Tubbo but one of your most underrated features is your creativity and drive to do good things, I dont think I’ve ever seen you tubbo and thought on this is a bad person

T: Oh… oh the fish may have just offered itself….

( A couple of beats of silence, then quackity goes and eats the dead salmon

Q: One of the most underrated features Tubbo and I don’t think anyone has told you this

T: Yeah?

Q: That your drive to do good things

T: AW

Q: I dont think I’ve ever seen you and thought oh this is a bad person, I think you are inherently good

T: Aw thank you so much mate

Q: Yes tubbo build up the menu

T: I will I will get on it

Q: I’ll make sure everything works well, the wheat farms…

T: Oh what the hell have you seen this book? “YO SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH YOUR DOOR YOU SHOULD PROBABLY CHECK THAT OUT I THINK YOU GOT THEM HALF OFF AND I DON'T MEAN PRICE WISE” Sorry I mean

Q: That- Wilbur, fucker that guy… that guy thinks hes so fucking funny “Yeah big q don’t you think there’s something wrong with your doors you should probablyy check that out I think” shut the fuck up, fuck you fuck you how the hell do I get rid this this I will spit on it and throw it in the fucking garbage can

T: Woahh woahh

Q: What the hell is wrong with that guy

T: Who wrote that, how do you know who wrote that?

Q: WHO DO YOU THINK “WROTE IT”

T: What Wilbur?

Q: Of course it was fucking Wilbur wanna know what he did to this place he fucking came and blew ahhh oh my god

T: Yeah I heard about the explosion, I never got to see it though,

Q: It doesn't matter it doesn't matter, you know what Tubbo, don’t ever even like bring it up in front of him don’t talk about it it never happened

T: Okay so we,- we just are better than that. We just

Q: We’re better than that, bigger and better and everything good

T: We don’t need to resort to staboutouge

Q: 100% 100% I - ahh whatever man, listen tubbo, I’m gonna go back to my office and count how much money I have and then I’m gonna come down here for a quick lunch break and then, I’m gonna tell everyone to start helping with your wheat farm, your grain farm, your bread farm

T: uh huh

Q: And we’re gonna up the production with cow meat

T: And I’m gonna get more recipes down thank you so much, thank you so much im gonna get on and start working on that

Q: This is all you tubbo, this is all you

(Sam logs on, maybe to ellude quackity is going to torture dream in the vault who knows)

T: This is unbelievable , I can’t thank you enough honestly

Q: I can’t thank you enough tubbo, I’ll go back to my office and get some work done, and how much money we have

T: I’ll get to the kitchen. Goodbye mate cya later!

Q: Not gonna lie tubbo, that fish was some bad shit

T: hah ahha, ohhh

Q: my stomach I really have to go I really have to go

T: Oh god i'm so sorry I’ll get the fish water treated, bye mate

Q: Yeah… yeah- bye mate!

T: Yeah okay, time to get off and work. I'm gonna start working on some new recipes, let's be excited, it feels so good to have this new job finally.

#dsmp transcript #transcript #tubbo #quackity #c!tubbo #c!quackity #las nevadas #tubburger #wilburgur #ranboo #c!ranboo

[sincerelyella]

Darlin’ (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart (AU)

Pairings: Ethan x MC (Ella)

Song Inspiration: Darlin’ by The Beach Boys

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Dela Cruz belongs to me

A/N: It’s my darling @aestheticartsx​​‘s birthday, and I know you didn’t want a big fuss or anything, but you’re an amazing person and friend. You support everyone and you have the biggest heart. I wanted to write this little fluff piece just for you ❤️ love you tons!

Warnings: Just pure fluff

The moodboard of Ethan and Ella was made by the birthday girl and I want to thank her for all her beautiful aesthetics

PSA -> today is not her birthday, I am just moving over all my writing from my old blog.

Words: 1592

Ethan Ramsey had an earworm. He found himself going about his day, seeing his patients and humming a melody that had popped into his head since he opened his eyes this morning. As he approached the nurses at the nurse’s station singing under his breath, Danny reached out to take the charts in Ethan’s arms.

“Hey, Doc,” he furrowed his brows as he stared up at him. “Are you … singing?”

Distracted, Ethan shook his head. “No, I don’t sing.”

Danny chuckled as he turned back to stare at the computer screen. “Sounds like you are,” he mumbled.

Don’t know if words can say, But darlin’ I’ll find a way

To let you know what you meant to me, Guess it was meant to be

Ethan stared up at the assignment board, skimming all the names until his eyes stopped on Ella’s. “Danny,” he called out as he made a mental note as to which room’s Ella was rounding on that day. “Can you page Dr. Dela Cruz for me, please? I’ll be in my office.”

“Doing it now.”

Ella was in a bad mood this morning, and he could only assume it was because of that time of the month. However, he knew better than to bring that up in conversation, so he just left her alone and let her do her rounds. Ethan wandered down the hall to his office and unlocked it quickly. He tossed his key onto the desk and let out a long sigh as he sank into his leather chair.

Ethan nodded his head in time with his humming, not even realizing the corners of his mouth had curved up. He thought he would never be vulnerable with someone; he had been careful in that aspect. The trauma and abandonment he felt when his mother left was something that he always thought about; it was the entire reason why he kept people at a distance. The only person he let in was Dr. Banerji, and even then, he still retained some things to himself. Ethan absentmindedly reached into his lab coat’s front pocket and wrapped his fingers around a small box. He slowly ran his thumb over the top of the soft velvet, and his smile grew. He had bought the 4-carat diamond ring months ago, and every time he thought it was a good time to bring up their future, something would distract him. This morning he was already distracted by the song he kept humming, and the fact that Ella was snippy with him didn’t help matters.

“Hey,” Ella stood at the doorway with her arms folded across her chest. “You paged me?”

“Oh,” Ethan stood and walked around his desk to greet her. “Are you okay? You were a little-”

“Bitchy, I know,” she sighed and buried her face into Ethan’s chest. “I’m sorry, I was running late-”

“As usual,” he murmured into her hair as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He tugged her fully into the room and shut the door behind her.

“Mmhmm, I was running late and …” she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Ethan’s heart suddenly skipped, and he felt a tightness in his chest. It was an overwhelming feeling of dread that washed over him within seconds.

“I was running late and … I’m actually late,” she finished, her voice barely a whisper.

Ethan tilted his head and stared down at her. He was mentally prepared to hear the worst news – someone died, she was ending their relationship …

“Ethan?”

He shook his head to clear it. “Uh, you're … late? As in-”

“As in … I’m pregnant,” the tears began to roll down her face, and Ethan’s eyes widened. “I was stressed out this morning, we never talked about our future, I don’t even know if you want kids-” her voice hitched, and she began to cry harder. “I’m so sorry.”

Oh darlin’, I dream about you often my pretty darlin’

I love the way you soften my life with your love, Your precious love

“Ethan, are you listening? Are you singing?”

“I-I’m not … I don’t sing,” he grabbed Ella’s hand and led her to the couch in the corner of his office. He gestured for her to sit, and he got on both knees in front of her. “I know we never spoke of the future, Ella. I’m sorry about that, I … you know I’m not a man of many words. Fancy words are-”

“Not your thing, I know,” she finished for him as she chuckled.

“They’re not, I can’t give you magical words that sweep you off your feet. It’ll be so awkward.”

Ella nodded.

“Truth be told, I never saw myself with a family,” he stared into her eyes. “That all changed when we began our relationship.”

“So, then that means-”

“That means that I’m so happy,” he cupped her face in his large hands. “I’m thrilled, and I don’t want you to cry over this, okay? I love you.”

She flashed a watery smile. “I love you too."

2 am

Ethan lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling fan, willing himself to go to sleep. Ella had already passed out at 8 pm after a large dinner of pad thai noodles, four spring rolls, six pork and chive dumplings, and half of his spicy drunken noodles. He lay in the dark going over the day’s events – was going to be a dad – with the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

I was living like half a man, Then I couldn’t love, but now I can

You pick me up when I’m feeling sad, More soul than I ever had

He frowned. What blasted song was this? He had been accused of singing twice today, and he got strange looks from all the nurses. He turned to grab his phone on the nightstand and quickly googled the lyrics that kept running through his mind. His eyes widened when he realized what song it was. Darlin’ by The Beach Boys was a song his dad regularly played while he was a child. He remembered his parents laughing and happy together when that song was on - which was all the time. Automatically, he turned to look at Ella, who was peacefully snoring on the other side of the bed. It’s a sign.

Ethan quickly stood and quietly tiptoed to the other side of the room, where he hung his lab coat. He reached into the front pocket, took out the small velvet box, and opened it. The diamond shone like a bright star in the dark sky, and he couldn’t help but get nervous as he studied it. He picked it up out of its cushion and admired the studded in small diamonds around the circumference of the ring. Ella was a simple girl that didn’t like too much flash, plus he didn’t want her losing the diamond in a pair of gloves at work. Ethan shut the velvet box, and it made a loud snapping sound. He cringed, held his breath, and closed his eyes while Ella grunted and turned over in bed. Once the coast was clear, Ethan tiptoed to her sleeping form and slowly slipped the ring onto her third finger on her left hand. He stared down at the ring as the diamond seemed to wink at him in the moonlight; he resisted the urge to take it off. This was a stupid idea, he admonished. The worst proposal of all proposals! He scowled at the ring, then tiptoed back to his side of the bed. We’ll see what happens in the morning.

9 am

A loud squeal startled Ethan awake as he sat up quickly and noticed Ella wasn’t in bed.

"Ella? What’s wrong?” His early morning shenanigans were forgotten in his sleepy haze. Ethan saw her come into the bedroom with his large shirt on and widened eyes. “What?”

She held up her left hand, the diamond shining brightly in the morning sun that was streaking into the bedroom. “Did you do this?”

“That … depends.”

“On?”

“On whether you want it or not,” he chuckled nervously as he studied her shocked face.

“Ethan,” she walked around to his side of the bed and sat on the edge. “I’m not sure how you got a ring on such short notice, but … you don’t have to do this just because I’m pregnant.”

“Wait. What?” Ethan shook his head. “No, I’ve had that ring for a while. I have been meaning to propose, I just … always got distracted.”

“You … so you really-”

“Yes, really.”

“Ask me.” Ella’s grin grew wider as she tried to hide her giggle.

“Ella Vivenne Dela Cruz, will you marry me?”

“Wow, Ethan … this is all so sudden,” she sucked her lips between her teeth to stifle her laugh.

“Unfunny,” his deadpan glare made her roll her eyes.

“Yes!” She lunged towards him and straddled his hips.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re celebrating,” Ella bit her lip as she took her shirt off. “It’s not like I can get more pregnant.”

Oh darlin’, I dream you often my pretty darlin’

I love the way soften my life with your love, Your precious love

#Darlin #Ethan Ramsey #Ethan x MC #Ethan x Ella #open heart #open heart fandom #open heart au #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #happy birthday Preet #OH #OH AU #OH fanfic #OH fanfiction #OH fandom

[macgyverseries]

rebutting and debunking frequently used arguments against macriley

I made this 10-page google doc rant a while ago, but I never ended up posting it. Today, however, I woke up and chose violence. So here it is: my thoughts on frequently used arguments against macriley.

I took some quotes and arguments that people put online (reddit, tumblr..), and I debunked them all :p I feel like I always see the same arguments all the time, and I’m honestly getting a little tired of hearing them. I’m here to settle this once and for all.

and yes, i did manage to cut down the google doc by 3 pages :D (but it's still long af so rip my brain)

1.”Mac and Riley are siblings because Jack is their father”

I can (mostly) get behind the argument that Mac and Riley shouldn’t be in a romantic relationship because of their super strong friendship. Some people really value that sole platonicness, and I get that.

But the argument that I can’t get behind is that: Mac and Riley are siblings because Jack is their father figure”

If you google the definition of “father,” the first result that comes up is: “a man in relation to his children.”

Now, Jack was definitely the father figure to Riley, and I would consider her his child. He raised her. He helped shape her ideals and upbringing.

Mac only met Jack when he left MIT. So it was pretty much after Mac was raised (by Bozer’s parents haha), that Jack really came into his life. Mac already became his own person. (also, I always saw Mac and Jack as more of a bromance)

So because Riley and Mac met Jack at different periods of their lives, and they were raised differently, I wouldn’t say that they were siblings who were raised by the same father.

2. “The show writers left the impression that there was a huge age gap between them”

I understand this a little. I do think Riley was introduced as pretty young and idk naive? Because she was literally in highschool, and then she went to prison, and then she got released into the wild. Personally, when I started watching the show, I googled the whole cast. So I started the show knowing that they were the same age.

And also, the more I got to know Riley, the more that I thought that Riley was more mature and had an old soul herself. I think it was because she was just a dynamic and round character, who is well-developed.

But, I get first impressions. I feel like once you get stuck on an impression, it’s hard to go away from that.

Also, Jack would’ve totally shipped macriley, and you can’t change my mind.

3. "Riley isn't ready for a relationship"

I honestly think that this argument should be more geared towards Mac. He needs to figure himself out and go to therapy ffs. However, this person targeted Riley (the literal queen), so I shall defend her:

I understand wanting Riley to take some time off, and figure herself out before going straight into another relationship with someone. But here’s the thing. Throughout the first few seasons Riley’s character was very well established, and she didn’t have any partners during that time. She has proven that she is a strong, well-rounded, independent woman (with or without a partner). So i think it is valid to say that she isn’t just some girl who only has boy toys. She is much more than that.

My next point is that Riley has made it clear that she wants a lasting relationship with someone who will support her. When talking with Mac in 4.04, we see her express her interest in a stable, healthy relationship. It’s not wrong to go out and look for that potential partner. This applies to everyone (not just fictional characters): It’s going to take a few relationships and self-discovery, to find a good relationship, and people shouldn’t be shamed for searching for that.

Riley has only ever had two major boyfriends that I remember. First was Billy; she took that relationship very seriously. She really did seem happy with him. It was a shame that he cheated on her. Second was Aubrey. She also took that relationship very seriously. She had been living with him for six months (and they even had the cutest date nights!) So I wouldn't say that Riley only has boy toys. She has meaningful relationships.

Lastly, I think this was written when season four started airing, but it’s been over a year (and a pandemic) since Riley has dated. I think enough time has passed.

*4. I had to split this one up because, oh boy, there is a lot to unpack here.

4a. “If that was the direction they’d chosen to take with that relationship from square one… My issue with it is that Mac and Riley were presented to us as friends/ found siblings for three years. There were NO romantic vibes to speak of between them..”

I actually felt the same way about macriley. The thought of them being together in season one, made me want to throw up. I don’t think the writers intended on having macriley, and I was perfectly fine with that.

I know that people look for different things when they ship. Some really like having instant gratification with the spicy, hot, sexy parts of a relationship, like macdesi (which is why I was fine with the idea of shipping macdesi in the past).

I always wanted to see macriley do more: have hot, flirtatious banters/interactions. it can be hard to ship people who seem to be missing that part of the love equation. So i agree. It's definitely strange. And I understand if you genuinely have a hard time seeing the romantic potential of macriley, when the writers have only dragged out and shown us the platonic potential of them.

Also, the reason why it is difficult to see macriley as romantic, was because they ALWAYS PRIORITIZED AND WERE DRIVEN on their friendship. A partner should be friends first, and then makeout buddies second.

But just because people start off as friends, doesn’t mean that they still don’t have that potential to be lovers. Because guess what?! Feelings change. It’s now canon that Riley has feelings for Mac, and Mac always had feelings for Riley (but never acted on it).

I'm sorry, but you like a boomer when you say “bAcK iN mY dAy, tHeY dIdN’t HaVe fEeLiNgS fOr EaCh oThEr.” like okaAAAyyYYyYY????? We are not “back in your day” anymore. We are in the present. We are in today. And today, macriley is real :)

4b. “There’s the incredibly tired trope where long-term coworkers suddenly catch feelings for each other out of nowhere”

Personally, I will never get tired of the friends to lovers trope. I think the fact that Mac and Riley had such a strong friendship and foundation is what makes them perfect. Again, I know that some people just like instant gratification, but I love when a couple can take their time to have depth, emotion, and realness in their relationship.

Obviously I am biased because I have so much love for this trope, it's my favorite trope, but I don't see why you would use the “it’s overused” as reasoning to hate a ship. Just because a trope is used a lot, doesn’t mean it is bad (that’s probably why it is so good lmao). I can understand getting tired of it, and growing a dislike towards a trope. For example, I have grown an extreme dislike towards the love triangle.

A bit of a tangent: But the difference between overusing love triangles and overusing friends to lovers, is that love triangles aren’t just commonly used tropes. They are cliches. They cause unwanted drama and unnecessary hurt to one character. Whereas friends to lovers doesn’t involve as much drama and pain for a character. It is more of just angst between two people. And we know that they will get together eventually with a happy ending. So it was never really problematic.

And even then, the great thing about overusing or utilizing tropes, is that they can act as a guide. It allows the show writers and cast to make it personal, make it their own, adding their own special flair to it

I just don’t see the “this trope is used a lot” as a valid reasoning for disliking a ship .It just seems like this commenter doesn’t like the friends to lovers trope for the sake of not liking it.

I could be very wrong in my assumption of this person’s thoughts on friends to lovers, maybe there is a deeper reasoning as to why they don’t like it, but the tone that i interpreted when i read this section, was that they don’t have a real reason to dislike it, it’s more of just because.

4c.“then there's the fact that Riley had a mostly single Mac in her life for 3-4 years and she never even considered him romantically until he was with someone else”

First: Riley didn’t CHOOSE to fall in love. You may recall that “emotions aren’t a science. You can’t control them.”

Second: Mac was broken up with Desi when she caught feelings for him. Plus, the moment Riley saw that Mac and Desi were getting happy together, she moved out and gave them space. She sacrificed her own feelings for his happiness, despite the fact that her heart was breaking.

4d. “and finally, Mac not only still doesn't seem to even have Riley on his radar in that way but he literally told another woman that he loves her just last week. Neither of them look particularly good here if they get together now.”

I'm assuming that this was written when 4.12 first aired. I'm also assuming that this comment was more directed towards the idea of Mac and Riley getting together immediately at the end of the season, rather than later down the road. I always saw of macriley as more of endgame material. That i would see them get together sometime in the future. So I agree. Macriley getting together during that time period, would be too rushed and unsatisfying.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So those were most of the supposed arguments that I saw for people who were against macriley, but I also wanted to provide some really good examples of people who were very respectable, and actually had valid reasoning for disliking them.

1. they just don’t like shipping in general

Ships can be annoying af. Seeing people ONLY focus on the ships is sometimes tiring. I, myself, even feel a little guilty making this post, because I need to chill and mind my own business lmaooo. I really should let people do whatever they want to do with their lives, and not get caught up in the ships, but here I am :p

Anyways, I know that there is a lot of unnecessary drama that comes with shipping, and it's tiring to see people constantly go on and on about romance, when there are other perfect things about the show.

2. No matter how hard they try, they just feel it.

This is literally so dumb (and a little hypocritical/self-contradictory), but if you have a gut feeling, and you just can’t get yourself to ship it, I get it. If you truly and genuinely believe that they are best platonic friends, I can't change your opinion. And I have respect for you (if you say it in a kind manner).

Here is a nice example of a person who expressed their opinion in a nice way, with no BS.

So the moral of the story: I can't control your deepest thoughts. I can't control your gut feelings. And that’s okay. But the moment that you start backing up your thoughts and insights with BS reasoning, is the moment that I lose respect for you.

#macriley #macgyver #sorry that was so freaking long

[swiss-cheeze]

French Road, East || Spencer Reid

Request: YES/NO: Hi! Do you take requests?? If you do, can I please request a Spencer x Reader (Including the BAU), where they are dating and the reader is a year or so younger than spencer, but just as smart and very loved by the team, and one day she has to save the team from an unsub and gets really hurt and after everyone is safe they are all really worried about her?? Idk if that made sense at all. Love you work!

A/N: OKAY SO, myself and a few other tumblr accounts got sent this exact same request from the same requester. I have spoken with all of the accounts i know of that have gotten the request and we have all mutually agreed that we will continue with our own fics in our own way on the basis/sense of ‘every writer is different and it's cool to see how others interpret the same request’, please go check out their fics too but please also dont message any of us about this little thing thats happened or saying one was better than the other because that's not what we’re doing here.

We write because we love writing and we love making worlds and being creative, this is a mutual agreement, yes we’re not too pleased with this happening but we are fine with going ahead with both of our fics.

Thank you.

A/N: I also got a little carried away with this little thing and kind of forgot about the ‘they get hurt’ part and instead left the end open for angst purposes; possibly a second part if requested? I don't know. This is also 10 full pages on Google Docs.

Words: 5727

Gender: they/them, none.

Warnings: descripton of people being beaten, kidnapping, mention and use of drugs, previous trauma of the BAU team brought to light, mentions of sexual abuse and assualt, mentions of possible rape.

Description: when 6/8 of the BAU team gets kidnapped, it's up to you and Garcia to find them before it's too late, but what happens when an old nightmare may consume someone's life again?

PART 2: https://snitchthewitch.tumblr.com/post/626602019637149696/french-road-east-apartment-23-spencer-reid

------

Spencer had slept over at Dereks after they had both consulted over their paperwork while you had gone to yours and Spencer's apartment alone, normally you two would arrive at work together with coffee ready for the day but today it just felt...off. Coffee in hand you entered the elevator and checked your work phone for any missed messages.

Derek Morgan phone (4)

Derek Morgan imessage (6)

Spencer Reid phone (2)

Spencer Reid imessage (4)

Okay, that was a bit weird. They normally called once, maybe twice, had your phone shut down last night? As you entered onto level 6 you stepped off to the side of the opening on the hallway, out of people's way, as you opened your phone for the messages, Derek first.

‘Going out with Spence and Pen’

‘Spencer misses you’

‘Pen says she wants to hug you’

‘We’re fucjlkeddd’

‘I don't think somethings okay’

‘Pick up’

Fuck, okay, maybe they just encountered a mugger? Spencer next.

‘mISS YOUUU’

‘Derek ssaysys he doeessdnt frrl ojay’

‘Someoned follow us’

‘French road, east’

What the fuck? So apparently they got followed? And then? What the hell is french road east? Was it an actual road to the east? Maybe the voice messages would help.

“HEY (Y/N/N)!” its Derek, “WE’RE HAVING OUR BEST TIME! WISH YOU WERE HERE!” the music was as loud as Derek was shouting in your ear, you couldn't help but smile.

“(Y/N)!” Spencer, “I MISS YOUUU!” you laughed at his drunk talking, “SHOTS!” and it finished.

“Hey (Y/n), we’re uh,” a laugh, it's Derek, “we’re walking back to my place now, with Pen and Pretty Boy over here,” you heard a faint shout of your name before laughter and the call ended. There was one voice message left, “someones following us. Under six foot, black clothes and looks disarmed but I can't tell from where we are and it's dark. I'll update you later (Y/n), i'll keep Pretty Ricky safe. I promise” and that was it. You brought your phone away from your ear and looked at it skeptically, Derek's story was backed up by Spencer because they both said they were being followed, Garcia hasn't messaged you though, she probably got cut off from her phone before anything happened, probably in Derek's pants pocket. Maybe they were playing a prank? No they wouldn't, Derek’s voice was too certain to be a prank. You shook your head from the thoughts before walking into the Bullpen and dumping your bag at your desk and looking around, Anderson, Mike, Daffey, even Esmerelda was at work today and yet you couldn't spot a single one of your teammates.

Okay, maybe they all slept in? You walked up to Hotch's office and knocked before putting your head through the door; looks the same as it was left. Funny. Hotch was always the first one in, if he ever left at all. You walked to Rossi's office and yet this was the same as Hotch’s; untouched and unmoved. Okay, this was a little scary, you made your way to the conference room with quick feet as the creek of the door being opened sent a shiver down your spine as no one was waiting for a case or even grabbing coffee, but you did notice the one folder that sat alone in the middle of the table. Cautiously, you made your way over to the file, picked it up and opened it, the photos inside the folder almost made you throw up.

Hotch, Emily, Derek, Spencer, JJ and Rossi were all sitting against a wall, beaten, bruised and dirty, arms positioned behind their backs. Underneath the photo was a piece of paper with bold red writing, almost blood like.

YOU WERE WRONG.

Your throat constricted as your breathing increased, you started hyperventilating as you heard the click clack of a certain pair of heels.

“(Y/N)!” Garcia yelled, she was running as quickly as she could with her platform, a file and laptop in her arms, “the-the team they've” she took a breath, “they've been taken, captured, abducted!” it took Garcia a few seconds to realise that you were close to fainting. Garcia put her things down on the table as she directed you to sit in a chair, got you a cup of water and started the breathing exercises that she remembered Spencer teaching her, he taught everyone tricks to help those when having a panic or anxiety attack as its something they would definitely encounter during their time with both agents, victims and unsubs, a few minutes passed and you finally calmed down.

“T-they, they tried to contact me” you said quietly as you looked at Garcia who was red eyed.

“And i was there (Y/n), they dropped me off home and where going back to Dereks, i didn't know if they made it or not because i had already past out by the time my head hit the pillow” Garcia reminded you, it took you a moment to realise but you where both in the same situation, and you nodded as the plan started coming together in your mind.

“Okay,” you stood up as Garcia opened her laptop, “when did you find out?” you asked, you needed to determine how long each of you knew the team was missing.

“I unlocked the batcave and I had the same file on my desk, when I saw the photos I ran up here and then to you,” you nodded as Garcia spoke.

“Okay, I want cameras of every place each of our team members have been, bars, apartments, anything and everything. See if there are any recurring cars or bikes or vans that drive past the streets, do facial recognition on anyone following them like with Reid and Morgan, see if it's happened to all of them.” you took a breath as you called in someone from the bullpen and handed them both the files you and Garcia had been given, “Get this to the lab for fingerprints, this is top priority; we have a team missing” you'd told them, they nodded slightly scared and confused before walking off as Garcia started talking.

“I've got the filters on and they're searching but it's going to take some time,” Garcia said sadly.

“Look up previous cases the BAU has had including the words ‘you were wrong’, ‘French Road’ and ‘East’, possibly other words like ‘it was wrong’, ‘they are/were wrong’ that type of thing, date it back to Rossi's days,” you ordered Garcia.

“(Y/n), a lot of those files are physical if you go back to Rossi,” the tech analyst reminded you.

“I know but still, set filters for that and go as far back as you're able, tell me if you get any hits, i'm going to go down to the file room and i'm going to go back as far as Rossi's days for the physical copies until he started going digital,” you told Garcia, she looked reluctant to let you go so you moved to where she was sitting and you gave her a large hug, “we’ll find them Pen, i promise” you mumbled into her cherry scented hair.

“What about Spencer?” she asked softly as the two of you let go of each other.

“He sent me a message saying ‘french road east’, that has to mean something,” you smiled, “i'm going to try and find that road through all of DC and if there's a hit i'm going to go there and see what's up with it, it might be where they were taken or a street Spencer noted as an important thing for us to know” Garcia nodded and quickly sat back down and started typing on her laptop as you left.

God only knows what your teammates are going through right now.

-----

“YOU SON OF A BITCH” Derek yelled as J.J. was dragged to the middle of the floor and repeatedly beaten.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT” Hotch yelled as J.J. started to whimper, the people stopped at Hotch's comment and left J.J. on the floor, Emily and Spencer scrambling with their hands bound to get to their teammate, making sure she was okay.

“What do we want? We want you guys on our side!” one of the people said, he was happy, how could this make anyone happy?

“FBI agents in our group? We’d rule the world!” another one exclaimed as the rest of the group laughed.

“It obviously took a lot of time and planning didn't it? To capture all of us” Hotch said cooly, though on the inside he was boiling.

“Six months,” someone said, it was a new voice that came from the entrance of...the sewers? Poor Spencer was probably having an attack with all these germs.

“Hey boss! We got ‘em” another one said, god there was too many to remember.

“I can see, you missed two though” the Boss said as he looked at the team, a few of his men dragged Emily, Spencer and J.J. back to the wall they all sat at, “genius's lover, and the black guy's girlfriend” the man noted as his men became eerily quiet.

“The blonde girl was with that skinny guy,” a man pointed to Spencer, “And that one,” he pointed to Derek, “but they kept going to crowded places and bumping into people that we couldn't get them, and the other...one”

“The sexy one?” the boss's voice rang out with a grin.

“YOU LEAVE (Y/N) OUT OF THIS YOU BAS-” Spencer yelled before one of the men kicked him in the stomach, causing him to cough harshly.

“Shut it druggie” the Boss said, the looks on the teams faces gave him all the pleasure, “oh yeah, we know all about you guys; how Hotchner lost his wife, Rossi has had 3 divorces, Morgan was sexually abused, Prentiss has had an abortion at 15 and J.J., sweet little J.J. had a miscarrige” snickers from the men could be heard as the team looked away, embarrassment? No, just confused as to how these people knew such intimate things about them.

“And that little lover of yours, genius?” another voice questioned, the voice came toward Spencer, gripped the poor boy's hair and ripped his head up to look up at him as a pained expression came over the doctor, “they’re in for it big!” he cackled, ��gonna have a lot of fun with them when we get them later,” and with that he threw Spencer against the wall, Spencer groaned as a few of his teammates called his name but he didn't register it, only the pounding in his ears and the feeling of blood rushing down his head. And with that, the men and their boss left, the door to the sewer room shut and the click of a lock echoed around the room, the silence the team heard afterwards was loud, deafening.

------

“What’ve we got Garcia?” you asked the analyst as you walked back into the room, placing 3 files on the table in front of her.

“Okay, very few cases including those words you gave me, a lot of the cases were only one unsub or two and I highly doubt there were only two unsubs so I crossed them off and? I got nothing,” the girl sighed as she got rid of the tabs to continue working, “the facial recognition software and car registration is still going, i've got hits for all of our friends being in the places that they mentioned, all of them had unfortunately been walking at the time but they go from one camera to another and then suddenly they're gone,”

“So our unsubs are sophisticated, this definitely took time to plan and get the right things for,” you mumbled as you looked at the victim board Garcia had hastily made up on the clear plastic, each member of your team's faces were up there along with a few other colour pieces of paper for the unsubs, and that's it.

“I haven't gotten any hits on the cars either” Garcia mentioned softly, you nodded.

“Okay well, i've got three cases here that all mention those words from before. First one is a group of five unsubs from Rossis and Gideons days but a lot of them are in jail if not all of them, the second is a cult group from Missouri and the last one is a gang of over thirty people; and not all of those thirty people had been found, prosecuted, jailed, killed and etcetera you get it” you fanned out the files and opened each of them.

“Which one do we think it is?” Garcia asked, we had no leads of which one it really is, so you took a breath and read over the files.

“Okay well, the five unsubs are all in jail and only two have been let out of prison in the last six months and it wouldn't be them because they only have two people in their gang, they’re loyal so they wouldn't start a new group without the originals” you closed the file and pushed it away and moved onto the other one, “the cult is rather big but they’re based in Missouri and i don't think they’d travel all the way over here to kidnap agents. This isn't religious or anything and they are so, definitely not them” you closed the file and landed on the last one, “okay, this one,” you looked over the file as Garcia started typing away, “fifteen have gotten out of jail in the past 2 years, five where never found and the rest are still in jail” you looked to Garcia, “this could be it”

“AH HA!” Garcia exclaimed, “i have a hit on three of those people who are in the system and they are following our lovely friends” Garcia typed another second as multiple video cameras came up showing your friends walking (or stumbling depending on who it was) along with one of three people following behind them a few feet.

“It has to be them then,” you said, “i'll go back down and find the rest of the files, Garcia i want you to find every bit of land, buildings, warehouses and houses they have ever bought, i want to know what they ate for breakfast on the third of january last year, i want to know what plumbing system they used in 2016; i wante everything” you said, albeit forcefully, as you walked out of the room and towards the file room again as Anderson walked back into the conference room and handed Garcia a few papers.

“Thank you Anderson,” Garcia mumbled as he looked over the paper, and sure enough there was fingerprints that matched one of the people who followed your teammates, Garcia then pulled up the video surveillance of the BAU and the facial recognition was quick to find the man enter the room, place the folder down with glove-less hands before walking out, he had a visitors pass.

-------

The scraping of metal against the floor awoke each member of the team slowly as a few people walked into the room, placed food trays on the ground in front of each team member, uncuffed the team and then walked out. The team looked to each other as a voice floated through a P.A. system above them.

“It isn't poisoned, and if you don't eat it then that's up to you but you will starve,” and the system shut off with a harsh beep.

“Hotch?” Derek asked.

“Eat unless you want to die,” was all their unit chief said before he moved forward and started eating the sandwich he had. Emily followed suit and gave a throaty moan as she drank the water from the goblet on the tray, the others soon followed.

-------

“There's nothing,” Garcia said as you entered the room again, “they don't have any land or anything,”

“Well find something then,” you said harshly, Garcia jumped slightly at your harsh tone but started typing again as you pinned up photos of each of the members out of the prison, “have you done a deep search on each person that's out of prison and that wasn't found?” you asked Garcia.

“Yes! Yes, five of the fifteen have alibis from the night our friends got taken and i can't find the rest nor can i find those other five that were never found, they really are off the grid (Y/n)” Garcia said as her fingers flew fast against the keyboard, you looked at the clock on the other side of the room.

“Ten hours,” you muttered, “god only knows what they’re going through,” you rubbed your hand over your face and paced slightly, “we have 15 persons of interest and we can't find them, do the ones with alibis have addresses?”

“They all do, three have work and home and the other two dont work and are stay-at-home-dads, all of their names and addresses have been sent to your phone” Garcia told you as a ping from your phone sounded.

“Okay, i'm going to go and check out that place Spencer gave me before he got taken, i'm gonna grab a few other people to go to other addresses because it'll save time and then regroup back here,” you said as you pulled your phone to your ear and started calling a few people.

~

You parked the car and made your way to French Road which was, as Spencer did say, to the east of the FBI headquarters. It looked like any other little street, a few cafes and a few empty blocks, it wasn't in the city but it wasn't in the suburbs; it wasn't deserted but it wasn't crowded, you noted this. Spencer and Derek weren't taken from here because they were in the middle of the city at the time of abduction, so there has to be something here that Spencer saw to make you come here. You looked in every alleyway on both sides of the street, doing a shallow dig in the dumpsters, opening a few cafe doors and asking a few questions but ending up with nothing. You let out a huff as you looked up and down the street again, until you realised something.

This was a dead end street. The end was a large circle so cars could do a U-turn and go the opposite way, stationed at the end of the street is a path to some sort of forest/secluded jogging track, this had to be a lead, it has to be. The leaves and sticks crunched as you walked along the track, your gun positioned next to you in your hand, ready for action whenever needed, that's when your phone made a large shrill and scared you half to death.

“What is it Mike?” you asked into the receiver after realising it was the other team who was out asking questions.

“We have a lead for the group from one of the stay-at-home-dads; they’ve been planning this for awhile but haven't put effort into it except for the past six months. We couldn't get a name because the guy was too loyal and was convinced they’d come after him but he did tell us that they tried to get in contact with him to regroup, he obviously refused but they left him alone after that, one phone call and nothing else,” Mike said, you could hear the slam of a car door as he got into one of the SUVs with his partner.

“Okay, that's good Mike, get that to Garcia and see if she can try and trace that call and what tower it's pinged from,” and with that you hung up as you heard Mike say ‘got it’ before the line went dead. You looked as far down the path as you could from where you stood but didn't go any further, if this was a lead then you would need backup and probable cause as to why you're there.

~

“All five of those men checked out with the same story, they each got a call asking them to rejoin the team and they refused, the caller disconnected right after that but they haven't gotten any threats since then. Unfortunately i couldn't find a tower it was pinging from and the number was from five different burner phones too,” Garcia said as you looked over the victim board.

“Background searches with those ten we had earlier?” you asked, “found anything else?”

“Um one, he's only 26 and but its a loose thread,” the picture came onto the screen, the man looked like he could pass as 16, “James Micheal, 26, the only thing i could find was that his credit card has weird transactions over the past six months so it fits our timeline however, i can't find the account it's going to so it must be a bugged one or fake or something similar” Garcia said as she brought up the transactions.

“Found him on the streets?” you asked, Garcia grinned and brought up a video feed, and upon further inspection, plus audio, you now had a profile.

-------

“Right-o,” a voice said, the metal door screeched open causing the team to wince as he and 2 other men stepped in, “who wants to go first?” he questioned, the sickening grin could be heard through his speech as the sewer was way too dark to see 3 feet in front of them.

“Grab the kid, he had the addiction,” another voice muttered before the men moved forward.

“HEY FUCK OFF,” Spencer yelled as two of the men tried to pin him down, Derek started scrambling towards Spencer to help but after a nasty blow to the jaw he backed away with guilt.

“Get the needle,” one of them said, this caused Spencer to tense, fuckfuckfuckfuck, this can't be happening, no way are they gonna inject him again.

“Look nerd, it's your old friend!” the first man said as he shook a small clear bottle in the slim stream of light from the roof, and sure enough there was a label with the one word that caused Spencer's fight or flight to make its appearance, Dilaudid.

“NO, DON'T YOU D-” a punch to the jaw caused Spencer to splutter and breath heavily as his arm was grabbed roughly, tied and the needle entered into his skin and vein, he sobbed. The team heard Spencer whimper as he felt the liquid inject into his veins and bloodstream, the telltale shortness of breath was quick to take its mark along with the immediate drowsiness as the men walked out without saying another word.

“SPENCE” J.J. exclaimed as the man in question fell into a slumber and the team crowded around the twitching boy, it was just like last time.

“Protect him,” Hotch said, “don't let them take him in this state, fight, bite, kick, i dont give a single shit,” the team looked at Hotch and nodded as they all took a silent oath to protect their friend.

------

“Our unsubs are up to ten people, possibly fifteen or more if they have recruited new people,” you started the profile with Garcia standing next to you, “we have one person of interest as of right now, James Micheal, we have video evidence and audio evidence of him speaking to each member of the BAU team trying to proposition them, as you all know a few of our team members would have ignored him, and a few would have talked or said a simple no; those who didn't say anything he continued to walk next to and annoy until that team member said something,” you took a breath, “we have evidence of James stalking the BAU team for the past 4 months from their work, to their home, to where they go for dinner on a special night or the bar; this includes both myself and Garcia in this stalking pile, we have added extra security to our own homes.”

“James has been making up to five thousand dollar transactions to some bugged account for the past six months and another two thousand dollars to a seperate account 2 months prior to those first six months,” Garcia was now delivering the digital trail, “this means he has been with this team for at least eight months, possibly more, he is most likely new, shy and unsure of what he is doing. James is being used and he knows he is but he has no way out as our unsubs keep saying things like ‘ill kill your family’, ‘you're nothing without us’, stuff like that,” Garcia used her hands to talk as she also pointed to the victim board to the photo of James’ driver's license.

“This team on unsubs are highly dangerous and we must proceed with caution around and with them, they all have gotten out of jail in the past 2 years and they obviously have a vengeance plan, please remember this. We also have a lead to where this team of unsubs could possibly be hiding but until we have James we cannot infiltrate the area. There is a fake missing person report out for James so we can hopefully get him into questioning, thank you,” and with that the people around you filtered away back to where they were meant to be going. You turned to Garcia.

“Do you think that was enough? What if we don't get to them wh-”

“Garcia stop, we cant think like that, we are the best of the best even without the team, okay?” you held Garcia enough to ground her as she nodded and wiped her tears.

“SSA (L/n)?” a new voice asked, you looked to the glass doors and sure enough, James Micheal was waiting there.

“James,” you said as you walked towards him.

“I saw the flyers and I just have one proposition,” James said, his voice was deep and definitely didn't match his face.

“What is it?” you asked as you walked to the interrogation room and allowed James to sit down in front of you with your back to the mirror, Garcia and Anderson were already standing in the small room before the interrogation room.

“I want protection until those guys are back in prison, i don't want them anywhere near me and i don't want them to find me,” James said, his voice was ridden with anxiety, you nodded.

“We can do that James, it's alright,” you reassured the man in front of you, “can you tell us who is in this group? Where are they staying?” you asked, James nodded.

“There's ten in the group, they're off the beaten track down some street in the east-”

“French Road?” you questioned, James nodded.

“Yeah, yeah that one,” he agreed, that was everything you needed from the previous encounter, “they don't have a lot of security but they’re pretty sophisticated with what they have on hand. They know everything about all of that team though,” Jack mentioned, “Emily got an abortion and that Red dude?”

“Reid” you corrected.

“Reid, they know of his Dilaudid thing and Hotch and his wife - they know everything,” Jack was shaking now, “they-they said they were going to use that against the team, the addiction, the trauma all of that”

“They’re going to dose Reid?” you asked with your shaken voice, that wasn't a good thing. Jack nodded as he looked to the clock.

“Most likely have already,” he whispered, you looked to the clock, 12 hours since the disappearance. Fuck. You nodded.

“You’ll be taken by another agent to a safe house and let out when this team is apprehended,” was all you said before walking out of the room and letting the door shut behind you. Your throat tightened and you couldn't breath as you sunk to your knees, Garcia and Anderson rushing to you.

“Breath (Y/n), breath” Garcia reminded you, “breath with me my sweetness” she said, Garcia made more effort to show her breathing as you tried to copy her, a few minutes passed before you had finally calmed down, tears streaked your eyes as you bumbled your words.

“I-its French road, Spencer was onto something,” you mumbled softly, “th-they know everything, from Reid's addi-addiction to Emily, and Hotch's wife,” you took a deep breath, “I-I want S.W.A.T. stationed with me, w-we’re going to infiltrate that place with the hel-lp of Jack and his direction-ns, possibly a map,” you looked to Anderson who nodded and walked out while taking out his phone to call for S.W.A.T., “Garcia i dont want you there,” you said, looking at the girl, she nodded in understanding as you stood up and started walking towards the way of the S.W.A.T. team.

------

J.J, Derek, Emily, Hotch and Rossi all whimpered as each member got kicked, punched, pulled, twisted and everything in between, Spencer was only just coming to from the drugs.

“N-no, dont,” Spencer whimpered, he was weak and could barely open his eyes but soon slipped back into a slumber.

“Y-you won't get away with this,” Emily whispered as one of the men gripped her jaw, her voice hoarse and scratchy.

“Oh darling, we will,” the man grinned as he threw the girl to the floor as the others piled the team on top of the others, all groaning and silently crying.

In retrospect, (Y/n) was rather glad that all members of the team were in the room when the door was busted open.

“FBI, PUT YOUR HANDS UP,” you yelled, the words echoing around the room, the men snickered as S.W.A.T. trained their guns on the men.

“It’s alright boys,” the boss said, your eyes trained towards the voice.

“Let. My team. Go,” you said calmly, gun now cocked, the man laughed.

“Go on boys,” the men moved out of the room but the boss stayed standing.

“Grab the team,” you said to S.W.A.T. behind you, the men walked in slowly and trusted you with your trained gun as they started carrying or walking out your team members, one having to cradle Spencer bridal style, “ambulance,” you said into the mic on your vest, “we need an ambulance for a poentional OD, Dilaudid was used, possibly a cocktail of other drugs but its unknown. Dont use other narcotics and if i find out you do i will be going to jail due to murder of doctors and nurses,” the sirens wailed in the distance.

“You’ve got tendencies too,” the boss said in front of you, “murder, killing, everything” you scoffed.

“Everyone does, its whether we have the empathy and understanding of ‘that's wrong’, which is why we don't do it unlike you people,” you seethed through your teeth, “hands up, you are under arrest for the kidnapping and torture of six FBI agents,” the man stayed silent for a moment.

“(Y/n) (L/n),” the man said, “pathetically in love with Agent Spencer Re-”

“It’s Doctor,” a voice said behind you, the cock of a gun could be heard before the tell-tale sound of a bullet being fired next to you, your natural reflexes made you dive to the right (as the bullet came from the left) as the boss was hit in the forehead and fell to the floor. You looked to the gun carrier.

Spencer Reid.

Gun held out straight, no tremble and a stern look.

Spencer looked to you and tears immediately spilled from his eyes as you stayed stone against the floor, “i see you got my message,” Spencer said softly with a smile before he collapsed to the floor in a heap of limbs, the gun clattering to the floor as paramedics rush to Spencers aid.

It seemed to go in slow motion, everything whizzed past you as other paramedics helped you to your feet, your eyes glassy and vision blurred as you got brought to the back of an ambulance. Around you each member of your team was being attended to, brought to a stretcher and taken in another ambulance, eight ambulance’s in total.

It was okay, you got all of the men, all of your team was safe.

Except.

“HES FLATLINING”

“We need to get him to the hospital NOW!”

“HE'S GOING TO O.D.”

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