#I can explain more on literally any point for anyone who wants that but I'm trying not to...overexplain....even though that's my impulse

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I pre-S4 I secret relationship AU I rated M I 3.9 k I angst I S4 fix-it I time skips

This was going to be a fully fleshed out story but I lost the umpf to finish, it just felt unnecessary to commit to an entire fic, so here's the rough draft for anyone interested.

July 10th, 1985

Eddie answered the door to find Steve Harrington standing off the porch, one foot on the bottom step, looking a bit like mangled raccoon roadkill, with somehow still an immaculate head of hair.

“Whoa, man, who'd you piss off this time?”

Steve slow blinked up at him. “I don't wanna talk about it. You open for business?”

He didn't normally take house calls but they weren't in school right now - Steve never would be again, the lucky bastard - and Eddie was saving up for a new amp, so yeah, he was open for business today.

“For you, Moneybags, always.” He held the door open wide.

Steve walked in, mumbling, “Not sure Moneybags is accurate now that I'm unemployed.”

“Well, then your money is even more precious. You could've spent it all on Budweiser but you chose me.” He fluttered his eyelashes at Steve.

“Don't know any other drug dealers,” he pointed out.

Eddie scowled. “C'mon, man, give me the illusion of being special.”

Steve's lips quirked, playful, even though it must've been stretching that cut painfully. “Oh, Munson, only your steller ditch weed can save me!”

Eddie would never admit it but the fact that he played along, albeit sarcastically, made him give Steve an extra pre-roll for free.

***

Aug 16th 1985

“And I said to her, ‘You can't expect me to tell you that. It's against the bro code or something,’ not that we were ever actually bros, it's the principle, right? But then she gives me the fuckin’ wet eyes, like I'm killing her-”

Eddie wasn't really listening, he was more focused on the task at hand, but Steve was a talker and Eddie had made peace with that weeks ago, so he politely hummed and nodded as needed to keep him going.

“Shit.”

“What?” Steve stopped monologuing to ask.

“Nothin’, just didn't have as much in this bag as I thought.” He put the tray aside and got up to grab another sack. There should be enough to round out Steve's usual six joints in his dresser stash.

“Anyway,” Steve continued on, unperturbed by the interruption, “I said to her-” He continued to wax about Nancy fucking Wheeler while Eddie dug through his top drawer. Ridiculous man couldn't wait thirty seconds, no, had to follow Eddie into his room. “Like Byers has the balls to cheat on her, ya know? And what the fuck am I supposed to do about it if he did? Fly to California and�� Huh.”

“What?”

He was so wrapped up in looking for the right strain, he didn't turn to look until Steve's continued silence became weird.

He should've just given Steve five joints and charged him less.

“Uhhh. I can explain?”

Steve looked up from the skinmag on Eddie's side table and laughed. Actually laughed. “Oh yeah? I'd love to hear it.”

Why did he look so happy about it? Christ, he was literally bouncing on his toes.

“You're being weirdly chill about this,” he pointed out when Steve continued to grin.

“It's just funny, I guess. I have that same one.”

Time stopped. It started back up of course but not in any way that made sense. Because Steve was giving him that look, that open faced ‘See anything you like?’ look, with the steely eyed determination of a man who knew what he was doing. He'd seen that look before, in clubs, on the street. The problem Eddie was trying to work out wasn't so much ‘Could Steve Harrington really be queer?’, it was ‘Could Steve Harrington really want to fuck around with me?’

“What the fuck does that mean?” He asked, sure he was reading this wrong.

Steve cocked his head. “It means exactly what it sounds like.”

He turned to give Steve his full attention. “You, Steve Harrington, own the August edition of Drummer magazine.”

“Yes.”

“The gay porn mag.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He watched as Steve's face turned a lovely shade of pink. “To look at pictures of naked men and jerk off,” he said calmly, despite the blush. “Also the articles are well written and informative.”

That shocked a laugh out of Eddie. He crossed his arms and leaned up against the dresser. “Uh huh. What was your favorite one?”

“That story about the military rites of passage. Something about being told what to do gets me going.”

It could've just been a good guess, Eddie supposed, but he didn't think so.

“Oh yeah, private?” He said, all bravado. “Drop and give me twenty.”

The bravado died a soldier's death as he watched Steve hit the floor, on his knees, and then begin doing actual pushups. He watched up until twelve or so - the play of muscle under that blue and white polo was really something - before stopping him with a laugh.

“Get up, you fuckin' jock. We get it, you're in great shape.”

Steve did stop but only so he could sit back on his heels, hands placed firmly on his thighs, to look up at Eddie as though awaiting further instructions.

He gulped.

***

Sept 28th 1985

Eddie had his hand down Steve's pants, sucking a sizable hickey on his neck, when Steve blurted out, “Teen Wolf is playing at the Drive-In in Shelbyville.”

He backed away slowly, swimming through a haze of horny confusion to mumble, “The fuck?”

“Um. Just sayin'.”

“‘Just sayin'?’ Why are you ‘just sayin'’ right now?” He articulated this with a heavy squeeze to Steve's dick.

“Ha!” Steve arched toward him while also wincing in embarrassment. “I just wanted to ask before I forgot.”

A drop of cold lead sank Eddie's stomach. “Ask…what?”

He blinked at Eddie in the dark. “Do you wanna go? To the movies? With me?”

Heat washed out the cold feeling and replaced it with mounting anger; Eddie slowly pulled his hand from Steve's pants. He watched Eddie back away with wide-eyed confusion, going to ask what was wrong probably, but Eddie beat him to it, unwilling to hear the concern in his voice.

“I thought you understood what this was, Harrington. We don't do dates,” he spit the word like a curse. “That's something you do with the nice girls from your daddy's country club. We get each other off in the back of my van, where no one can see it rocking. Right? That's what this is.”

Steve's whole face shut down, giving nothing away. He gave Eddie a small nod, doing his pants back up. That was probably for the best, he was too rattled to get off now anyway.

“Yeah, I think we're done for today. Come see me when you remember what it is I'm good for.”

Steve didn't respond, just kicked open Eddie's back doors and hopped out. The beemer started a second later, not peeling out angrily, not kicking up gravel and dust in its wake, just drifted off into the night.

Eddie's hand shook as he tried to light a cigarette, flame winking in and out as his fingers slipped, another thing Steve had ruined. What an asshole, he thought, still furious. What the fuck was he thinking, asking Eddie out? That they'd just go to the movies together? Like a couple of regular people? Didn't he know that's not how things worked? If you're lucky, which Eddie was, you find a mentor to teach you the rules of staying safe. If you're not lucky, you learn the hard way.

Going steady with rich, popular boys was not on the list of approved activities.

Eddie snapped his cigarette in half and chucked it out the back door. The black of the lake beyond the trees, near invisible under a waxing moon, left him feeling sick to his stomach and lonely. The nights were getting too chilly to sit with the doors open anyway. He swung them shut and shrugged his flannel back on. The memory of Steve running his warm hands over Eddie's shoulders, slipping it off as he ran them down his back, struck Eddie like a slap to the face.

He shouldn't have freaked out. He could've handled it better. It wasn't Steve's fault he didn't know the rules. He didn't have someone like Gil to warn him about how dangerous it was out there. Oh well, it was too late to take it back now. He'd apologize when Steve came around again.

***

Oct 10th 1985

“I just don't get why he won't talk to me. I tried to see him at Family Video and he ran into the back office and locked the door. Buckley just stared at me until I was sure my hair would catch fire. Like I ever did anything to her,” he grumbled.

“Ed,” Gil sighed over the phone like Eddie was being particularly stupid, “he wanted to take you out and you yelled at him.”

When he said it like that it sounded reasonable. “Yeah, except we don't do that! You taught me that! That's not safe!”

“Oh, no. Oh, Eddie,” he sighed again. It was really starting to piss him off. “I didn't mean for you to take that to heart. You can't shut out everyone who might love you-”

“Love me?!” He screeched. “Are you insane? He didn't love me!”

“I'm not saying he did, I just mean you can't expect everyone you sleep with is going to agree no strings attached forever. Eventually you're going to fall for someone, and then all the bullshit running around in secret, that shit becomes worth it. I wasn't trying to stop you from falling in love, I was just trying to teach you how to get around safely.”

Eddie sputtered. He was so confused. Where was the burly, son of a bitch, leather vest wearing, biker bear who once told Eddie where to find the best glory holes in a new town? What the fuck was the shit about falling in love? That wasn't supposed to be in the cards for him. And certainly not with Steve Harrington. That was never going to be a thing. Not in the cards, not in the casino, not in Las Vegas itself! But all of a sudden he was allowed to date if he was sure the other person was worthy? Since when?!

Gil, instead of taking pity on him, doubled down. “I think it's probably too late with this Steve fella, but Eddie, don't push away the next one who takes an interest in you. Okay? It's still rough out there, it's still dangerous, but, god, what is any of this for if we aren't allowed to be in love?”

“You asshole,” he sniffed, “where was all this lovely advice two years ago?”

“You were a kid, dumb ass. If I'd told you to run off with the first guy who gave you butterflies, you'd be dead already. I was trying to keep you safe first, cut me some slack!”

“Fine! But I still blame you for fucking me on the Harrington thing. You have no idea what you cost me. Literally and figuratively. The wallet and the ass on that man.” He wasn't going to admit to missing the man attached to the wallet and the ass. It was too fresh of a realization.

“I'm sorry, kid. Seems like you really liked him.”

“What? No I didn't.”

“That why you called me and ranted about him for a half hour straight? Because you don't like him?”

Eddie scowled at the sink. “Shut up.”

Gil sighed at him again.

***

March 29th, 1986

A car had pulled up.

His blood was rushing in his ears, nothing but the sound of the ocean in a giant seashell, like the one his mom had kept on her dresser, so he didn't hear the voice at first. It wormed its way into his understanding slowly, a male voice, low, calling his name.

He grasped the bottle tighter, waited until the voice got closer, and then sprang out from under the tarp. His senses grew sharp, focusing on the dark shape in front of him. They came together hard, fell into the wall with a jarring crash. All thoughts went into stopping the body against him from hurting him first.

Hands grasped his wrist to keep the bottle from finding its mark. Strong hands, with wide knuckles, ones that Eddie hadn't seen in six months but still, unbidden, saw in his dreams.

He finally looked up and found Steve Harrington at the end of his makeshift knife.

“It's me, Eds, it's me” he was panting. “You're safe. I promise. It's okay.” He kept repeating it until Eddie finally let go of the bottle. Let go and then buried his face into Steve's neck and wept. He couldn't stop it, it just came out of him, everything, all the terror and confusion and guilt.

“I didn't do it, I didn't hurt her, it wasn't me,” he kept repeating.

“I know. I know, Eds, I know you didn't,” Steve answered, hand still running over the back of his head. Like the last six months were just a terrible dream.

He didn't even notice Steve wasn't alone, not until Henderson clasped him around the shoulder and told him there were things living under Hawkins, things that would make a horde of Beholders turn tail and run.

And they'd been dealing with it all since ‘83?

Which meant Steve was already a hardened veteran when he was goofing off in Eddie's trailer, making tusks out of pretzel rods and calling Ewoks by the wrong name.

“Jesus Christ.” He put his head between his knees and did his best to ignore Steve's hand rubbing up and down his back. He didn't want the comfort but he took it anyway.

***

March 31st 1986

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve pulled up next to him, skipping over the slimy Devil Roots with ease, “I just wanted to say thanks for savin’ my ass back there.”

Eddie chuckled lowly, not ready to say, ‘You know what you did, you macho asshole.’ “Pretty sure Wheeler saved your ass but you're welcome.”

“You definitely helped. I mean, you didn't have to swim through a portal to hell after me but you did.”

The shame of Steve giving him even an ounce of credit crept up his throat and started to choke him. Steve had been getting drug to hell by some unknown force and still Eddie had hesitated. He was a coward.

“Man, I just didn't want to be the asshole who stayed behind.”

The silence felt damning, like he should've just kept his mouth shut.

Steve jammed his hands into his ratty sweatpants. “Right.”

Now he thought Eddie didn't care at all.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he whispered, “You know that's not the whole truth, right? I know things are weird between us but I don't want you dead.”

He had to keep his eyes on the ground as they walked but out of his periphery he could see Steve nod.

“Yeah. I get it.”

He didn't but Eddie didn't know what else to say. He hadn't let himself think about what they were to each other now. Not friends, not ex’s, not strangers. He’d tried not to think about Steve at all - except what he couldn't avoid, like Henderson’s obsession with him and things his brain forced him to remember at night - since whatever they were doing ended. Since Steve left and never came back.

He opened his mouth to soften the moment, tell Steve how Henderson would've killed him in a more creative way than Vecna if he'd let Steve die, but Steve cut him off.

“I should thank you for that too.”

Eddie chanced looking over.

“For what?”

“For ending things when you did.”

The squirm in his gut worsened. They hadn't talked about it. He didn't want to talk about it. “Oh?” He choked out.

“Yeah, I was, uh, making a bigger thing out of what we, what we were doing, than I should've. I blame Robin for enabling me, she's the one who said to just ask you out like a normal person. Sorry for making it weird and ruining it. Always trying to give my heart to people who don't want it.” He chuckled morosely. “Anyway, thanks, I guess. You probably saved me from a lot more heartache later down the line.” He slapped Eddie on the back, like they were old chums, and then he skipped up to the girls without a backwards glance.

Eddie stood there, alone, gaping at his retreating back.

***

April 1st, 1986

Eddie had always been good at compartmentalizing. When his mom got sick, he got really into Tolkien, let that be his focal point in a storm of hospital visits and missed days at school. When his dad got picked up and sent to prison, he let Wayne teach him how to play guitar, which he spent most of his waking hours on. When Steve made it clear he was done with Eddie, he packed up the little pocket of time they had, the enjoyment he'd found in Steve's company, and folded it under the recesses of his mind, told himself it was all for the best, to not think of it again, and then he threw himself into Hellfire.

So, now that he’d found himself in another untenable situation, clarity struck Eddie like lightning as he thrashed on the ground - Hey, dumbass, Steve Harrington actually liked you, wanted to date you, would've fallen for you, and you fucking blew it. Not only did you blow it, you broke his fucking heart.

It was an asinine thought to have while he was actively dying but considering the alternative was acknowledging that he was being eaten alive by demon bats, he welcomed thoughts of Steve.

Steve, who Eddie had convinced himself was just scratching an itch with someone who wouldn't tell, but who had actually been telling his best friend the whole time.

Steve, who came over for weed but stayed to hang out, sometimes for hours, well before they were fooling around.

Steve, who wasn't anything like Eddie had assumed he would be, was exactly the kinda guy Eddie would've fallen for. If he was allowed.

But he had been allowed, the whole time apparently, and was too stupid to notice.

Henderson showed up a minute later, just as the bats collapsed around him, thank god. If he'd gotten the asshole killed he was fairly certain Steve would've brought him back somehow just to kill him again.

He wasted a lot of breath apologizing to Dustin, agreeing that he was totally gonna make it. Wasted some more trying to bequeath Hellfire to him. Wasted his last breath to say, “Tell Steve I'm sorry.”

Dustin wouldn't understand what for but maybe Steve would.

Just before he lost consciousness he caught Dustin saying, “Tell him yourself,” and then something that sounded suspiciously like, “Eddie! No.”

But by then he was gone.

***

Date unknown, 1986

He was never sure if what he was experiencing was real or not. Since the pain had stopped everything had a surreal quality, mostly flashes of light, some sound trickled in, shouting and crying and tires squealing; all of it was fleeting and seemed unimportant.

The first thing that felt real was Wayne's voice. Gruff and short and so, so familiar. It brought tears to his eyes. He was pretty sure anyway, hard to tell when he couldn't open them yet.

“Get your boy, Fletch, or I'm gonna break his arm.”

“Now, Wayne, we're just doin’ our job,” Chief Powell said in a softer tone than Wayne's snarl or Callahan's offense.

“Either one of you touch a hair on his head, I'll-”

“Have Steve call his famous lawyer dad,” Robin piped up from somewhere in the room, thankfully stopping Wayne from further incriminating himself.

“He's a divorce attorney,” Steve mumbled. “But he knows people!” He rallied after what Eddie imagined was a look from Robin.

A beat went by, Eddie almost slipped away in the quiet, before Chief Powell spoke up again. “You're all gonna go to bat for this kid?”

Steve responded first. “He's a hero.”

Eddie didn't get to enjoy that for long, a nurse came in to shuffle them all out of the room so they could re-up his pain meds and then it was nighty-night again.

***

Date Unknown, 1986

The next time Eddie woke, it was dark in the room, only a bit of light coming in from under the door and from the parking lot lights outside. His eyes felt gritty, heavy with sleep, but he could make out the shape of Steve in the chair beside his bed.

He was awake, staring down at the side of Eddie's mattress.

No.

Eddie followed his gaze and found Steve staring at his hand where it laid across his own forearm, careful of the tubes they were both hooked to. As soon as he saw it, he became aware of the warmth of it, Steve's huge hand draped over his cold skin.

“Feels nice,” he tried to say but it came out more garbled mess than actual words.

It was enough to get Steve's attention though.

“Eddie!” He said with excitement, relief. “What do you need? I should get the nurse.”

Eddie forced his arm to respond, to turn over and clasp Steve where he was about to remove himself. His grasp wasn't near enough to keep Steve in place but the fact that he tried kept Steve where he was.

His voice refused to cooperate, felt like coughing up glass, but he tried to communicate that Steve should stay.

“Okay, okay, I'm here. Not going anywhere. Do you need anything? Water? Pain meds?”

Eddie could definitely use both of those things but the most pressing thing, the only thing he could really think of was…

Lifting his hand to point as steadily as he could at Steve's chest.

He chuckled. “Why do you keep trying to take my shirt?”

The question made little sense. For one thing, this was the first he remembered being coherent enough to demand anything, and second, Steve wasn't wearing a shirt, he was in a hospital gown, same as Eddie.

He shook his head as best he could, a frustrated frown and a grunt to indicate that wasn't what he meant at all.

Steve leaned closer. “What is it? I don't know what you need, Eddie.”

Now that he was closer, Eddie reached out as best he could and pressed his palm to the left side of Steve's chest.

They stared at each other. Eddie could feel the tears slipping down his face but he didn't dare move his hand to wipe them away.

Slowly, like he was scared, Steve's hand came up to press Eddie's hand closer. Big and warm and missed to the point of aching, though Eddie had been loath to admit it to himself.

“You’re serious?” Steve whispered. “You want...this?”

Eddie nodded frantically.

“If you mean my tit I'm going to be so pissed at you.”

Eddie choked on a laugh. He did his very best to mouth, “That too.”

That got him a laugh, a soft one. "Some things don't change." He looked away, shy. Or not shy exactly, cautious. "I hope you remember you said all this when you wake up again. You're pretty doped up."

That was an easy fix. The drugs probably made it easier to admit but he was tired of pretending it wasn't true.

He pulled Steve's hand until it settled over his own chest, stitches and all, and forced himself to croak, "I already tried to forget, sweetheart. It didn't work."

Steve's answering smile rivaled the dawn.

[riza-hawks-eye]

The Royai moments the anime adaptations left out bc they are COWARDS

(I believe in fma manga supremacy)

Riza's Grandpa asks Roy to marry her.

So this one needs outside material to explain, but Arakawa confirmed in the 2nd Guidebook (released only in Japanese and French) that Grumman is Riza's maternal grandfather. Not necessarily a big Royai moment but, still it's interesting how Riza's only known living family ships it, and that Roy doesn't exactly say "no" to his request.

I am forever fascinated as to why any of this exists in the first place, what did you mean by this Arakawa? why have Grumman make this suggestion in the first place? 👀👀👀👀👀👀 What were you suggesting? 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Anyway, I wish we had an in-text confirmation of Riza's relation to Grumman and I wish this moment had come back to the story at some point. Even if it was just Riza glaring at Grumman being like "Grandpa why are you trying to marry me off?????"

2. Roy's "Get your hands off my wife!" moment.

He really said, "is he bothering you queen?" I wish we had more protective Roy and frankly, I don't understand how this scene didn't make it to Brotherhood? Riza was getting manhandled by a tin can and clearly not into it. The fact that a tin can serial killer developed a crush on her is concerning to begin with. It just wouldn't be in character for Roy to be cool with this. Roy is also a jealous boyfriend, what can I say?

3. The "I'm glad you're alive" moment.

For some dumb reason, Brotherhood changed this so when Riza apologises for worrying him, he just snaps "save it for the end of the mission!" Like, why Brotherhood? why would Roy ever snap at Riza like that? especially when Riza is generally the one who is laser-focused on the mission. Roy has enough faith in her, he's not going to see this brief apology as her being distracted or less competent. The manga dialogue is also meant to show how Maes's death is still a fresh wound for Roy, so of course he's on edge at the prospect of losing Riza too.

4. He literally asks her out

I feel like both anime adaptations really wanted Roy to be more of a womaniser than he actually is. But this scene lowkey confirms Roy has limited game and he only really wants Riza. It feels like dude jumped at the opportunity to ask Riza out the moment she technically stopped being his subordinate.

5. Roy's codename for Riza actually coming back

Seriously, I love how Arakawa took the time to establish "Elizabeth" as Riza's codename only to use it later to have Madame Christmas suggest that Roy regularly spends time with "Elizabeth" to the point where it's weird that he isn't with her now. And then, when Roy bemoans how "another man took Elizabeth" (an obvious reference to Riza being taken hostage by Bradley) one of Christmas's girls gets excited at the idea she might have a chance with Roy. The suggestion is that Roy isn't normally available on account of his seeing Elizabeth.

It's a strong hint to the idea that Riza and Roy might have *something* going on and are bypassing the fraternization laws through codes. At the very least it suggests that Roy isn't interested in anyone but "Elizabeth". Also look how bummed out he is that his wife is gone. Why did the anime rob us of so much pathetic whipped Roy? WHY?

6. Just a lot more touching in general

There's actually a lot of touching between these two in the manga. It's mostly during the big fights like the Promised Day or the battle with Lust and it really cements them as a true battle couple.

In the case of the Promised day they are literally fighting in each other's arms. Riza is leaning on Roy as she's on the verge of passing out from her wounds, and Roy is clinging onto her now that she has become his eyes. The way they hold each other shows how they are each other's crutch and how one always empowers the other. It also symbolises how inseparable these two are as moments ago Roy was at the Gate and before that Riza was on the brink of death, they could have lost in each other for good but they're still standing strong together in spite of everything.

The post-Lust fight is just a nice moment were Roy clings onto Riza out of sheer relief that she's okay and he hasn't lost another loved one. Even though he's on the verge of passing out from pain and blood loss, he still finds the strength to reach out to her.

Then there's the scene in the tunnels where he lowers her gun for her. The noticeable difference in the manga is that he does this after he takes off his ignition gloves.

The anime forgets to do this. It seems like a minor difference but it's kind of a big point of characterisation. Because we know that Riza has been hurt by flame alchemy, from the process of having the tattoo done to her by a trusted parental figure at a young age, to the trauma of seeing how much damage it did at ishval, to her very literally being burned by the flames so that it won't do anymore damage. Roy is the one who burned her, he's the one who used her secret to do unspeakable damage and suffering, why would he hurt her again by letting her go anywhere near flame alchemy?

My final thoughts: Manga Roy is altogether more dorky and in love with Riza than his anime counterparts and I miss his adorkable self.

I also feel like Arakawa was so good at subtly hinting at how in love these two are and how they basically *do* function like a couple even if they might not be together in the conventional het married with babies way.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is learning firsthand just how lonely a deployment can be when he's gotten used to talking to you all the time. You are more than happy to record your daily adventures for him, including your steamy ones.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, masturbation, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Your original plan to commute to work from your apartment in Mira Mesa went out the window after the box from Bradley arrived. Suddenly his place seemed cozier now that there were tidy rows of envelopes from him covering the table in the living room. You sipped a mug of coffee and looked at all of them, selecting the one that said Open me with your class.

"Whatever you say, Bradley," you murmured with a smile, tucking it into your tote bag for work. You missed your kids almost as much as you missed him, but at least you'd finally get to see them today. You just hoped there was something upbeat in the note, because you were going to have to inform them that he'd be gone until Career Day. Or maybe longer.

Opening the note that was meant for you and your class before digging into all the others just felt right. Really, he was a faithful pen pal to all nineteen of you, even if his current letters were pre-written. As you drove to work, you wondered how long it would take your students to ask about Bradley. Turns out, it didn't take too long at all.

You were standing behind your desk, getting hugs from some of the kids as they got reacquainted with each other and the classroom for the first time in almost two weeks when Jayden asked, "What did you get Lieutenant Bradshaw for Christmas?"

Images of lingerie danced in your head as you cleared your throat. "Stationery," you replied. "So he can write us letters while he's deployed."

"He's deployed?" asked Nia, face lighting up. "With Marty?"

"Can we do another drawing contest with him?" shouted Oliver, already getting colored pencils out of his desk.

"Will you ask if he's allowed to take a video while he's flying this time?" Violet asked calmly.

"Actually," you replied, walking slowly to the front of the room with a single envelope in your hands, "we can't do any of those things. He's not allowed to communicate with anyone who isn't on the aircraft carrier this time around. If he writes to us, he'll have to save the letters until he returns."

Everyone stared blankly at you. 

Jackie raised her hand. When you pointed to her, she said, "But we're not like random people. We're students of aviation. We're his pen pals."

"Yeah!" came a chorus of voices, and you were half tempted to write up a petition to the Navy for all of them to sign.

You had to clap your hands and wait for them to clap in response after they all quieted down again. "I have a note that he wants me to open with you. Should we do that now?"

After literally everyone agreed that was a good idea, you opened it and found a handwritten link to a YouTube video followed by a short note that you read out loud.

"Greetings, Fourth Graders,

By the time you read this, it will be January, and I'll be on an aircraft carrier in the Atlantic Ocean for a seven week deployment. I'm sure your lovely teacher has explained that sending and receiving letters is sadly not a possibility for me right now. I'm going to need you to keep track of all your questions about aviation until I get back for Career Day next month. I'll bring some of my friends along, and we can answer them for you then. Sound good?

Make sure you listen to your teacher, and I'll see you all in February.

Yours Truly,

Lieutenant Bradshaw"

You looked up from the notecard and added, "He also included a link to a YouTube video. Should we check it out now?"

It was actually amazing how quietly they all sat in anticipation while you set up your projector and typed out the link. When you turned out the lights, you had to grab onto the edge of your desk as Bradley's face and voice filled your classroom, even though he wasn't actually there. The twenty minute video began with him sitting on his living room couch in his worn out jeans and the Top Gun shirt you wore to bed last night, and you realized he must have filmed this on Christmas Eve when you were out with Natasha.

"Hi, everyone," said video Bradley as he waved to his phone camera. "I thought I would try my hand at a little lesson on aviation so your teacher could get a break. Make sure you take notes. There will be a quiz the next time I see you."

All of your students were watching him with rapt attention and pencils poised over their notebooks. Bradley kept them engaged and entertained while you fell even more in love.

-----------------------------

"What the fuck?" Bradley groaned as he sank down into an empty spot on one of the long benches in the mess hall. The spaghetti looked like mush, but his stomach was growling so aggressively, he decided to take a bite anyway. It tasted just as bad as it looked, and he grimaced as he started to shovel it into his mouth anyway.

What he wouldn't give for dinner at Salvatore's. Mouthwatering pasta. Expensive as hell wine. You in a short little dress with his hands all over your thighs. Maybe Bronco parking lot sex.

Instead he got another USS Gerald R. Ford meal which was barely edible, and a view of a very hairy Atlantic Fleet aviator with the call sign Curly. Fantastic. Even the garlic bread was so stale it was hard to chew, but if he didn't eat, he would start losing weight. And if he started losing weight, it would make working out harder, which would suck, because going to the gym was his main source of entertainment.

Other than writing letters he couldn't send.

"Are you gonna finish that?" Curly asked, pointing at the roll Bradley only bit the corner of.

"It's all yours, man," he replied, watching the other aviator pick it up and crunch on it with a smile. 

Bradley picked up his tray with the intention of heading to his bunk to change into gym clothes, but when he got there, he collapsed onto the twin sized bed instead. It was clear that he'd only been brought along for this deployment to fly one very specific mission, because as a whole, the Atlantic Fleet pilots were young and green. But as a result of the current political climate, he had internet access completely taken away from him, and he was stuck here for five more weeks with nothing to keep him sane. He didn't even have Marty this time around. Just the pretty stationery set you gave him and the holiday cards from your students.

So he would do what he always did now. He would write. To all nineteen of you. But mostly to you. He realized, like he always did, that this was probably the most boring shit that anyone would ever read. How many times could you really read about your boyfriend telling you that he loved you and missed you. It wasn't like he was writing elegant poetry here.

Gorgeous, I miss you so much. You'd cry if you saw the spaghetti I had to eat for dinner. First thing I'm doing when I get home (besides you) is driving us to Salvatore's, and I won't stop eating until I pass out. The Atlantic Fleet food makes the Pacific Fleet cabbage rolls seem like a delicacy, and the US fucking Navy can quote me on that. 

I love you. I wish you knew I was coming back to you instead of Norfolk. I wish I could ask you to use the credit card in my sock drawer to fully stock the refrigerator before I get home. The only things I want to do for three solid days after I arrive back in San Diego are eat, sleep, and fuck my girlfriend.

Definitely not poetry. "Was my writing this shitty last time around?" he murmured to himself with a laugh. It couldn't have been if you kept responding to him for the duration of that deployment. Just thinking about your letters, both professional and personal, made him ache right now. Your emails and your sassy selfies and the sunset photos were things he didn't even know he had been taking for granted.

One letter from you now would have made everything so much better. With a deep sigh, Bradley changed to head to the gym.

------------------------------

Time passed slowly. Packing up and moving boxes of your things from Mira Mesa to Coronado helped, but you were a little too nervous to unpack too much other than the necessities. You didn't even want to think about that right now. All you wanted to do was plan your next visit to the wine bar with Natasha so you felt a little less lonely. 

As you hung the framed blueprint of the Super Hornet Bradley gave you in the living room, you realized he would have to be lonelier than you were. At least you had Jayden's tales of Vanessa the dog to make you laugh during the work day. And you went out to dinner with some of your friends you hadn't seen recently. And you had a never ending text thread with Natasha now. 

There was a pretty good chance Bradley didn't know anyone on this deployment, and you wondered if he was spending a lot of time in the gym. What you wouldn't give for a gym selfie. You collapsed onto the couch and scrolled through the images of your boyfriend that you had saved to your phone.

"God," you moaned. He was so hot. Especially in front of a sunset. Especially with your lipgloss smudged on his cheek. Especially when he was looking at you in his arms instead of at the camera. "Fuck."

When someone knocked on the door, you nearly fell off the couch. Your eyes caught on the envelopes from Bradley that you hadn't yet opened lined up on the coffee table as you walked across the room. The last time you had an unexpected visitor, it was Natasha. The time before that, it was Vanessa. You didn't know who to expect, but you squared your shoulders and pulled the door open with an abundance of attitude only to find a slightly hunched over older woman standing there.

"Oh!" you said, immediately softening your stance. "What can I do for you?"

She looked from you to the Bronco in the driveway and then back again. "Is Bradley home?"

"No, he's not," you told her, unsure about how much information to give. "Is there something you need?"

She eyed you carefully. "Are you his girlfriend? The teacher he fell in love with?" This stranger knew who you were. When you gave her a concerned look and took a step away from her, she said, "I'm Edith. I live next door. Sometimes Bradley helps me with yard work and repairs around my property." She smiled and added, "He only lets me pay him in piano lessons."

"Edith!" You told her your name with a smile. You knew exactly who she was, because the first time Bradley wrote to you about getting piano lessons from his retired neighbor, you fell halfway in love with him on the spot. "Right, of course! Bradley is actually deployed for a few more weeks." She looked immediately dejected, so you asked, "Did you need help with something?"

"I don't want to bother you with it," she said immediately.

"Please," you replied, already reaching for your shoes. "I'm so bored without Bradley around. I would absolutely love a distraction, Edith."

She wrung her hands and then held them up. "Well, I can't change my light bulbs, because my arthritis is bad this time of year when it gets chilly out. And my back patio is so dark at night, I can't see anything."

"Say no more," you told her, joining her on the porch and closing the door behind you.

It only took you a few minutes to change the exterior light bulbs and rearrange her patio furniture. Then you cocked your head to the side and asked, "Is something beeping?"

Edith sighed. "My smoke detector needs new batteries."

"I'm on it."

She led you inside the sliding glass door, into her kitchen where the beeping was annoying enough that you didn't know how this woman could have slept in the house unless her hearing was starting to slip. Edith told you where you could find a step ladder and new batteries, and once you finished that chore, she started digging around in her purse, pulling out five dollars.

"Thank you for your help," she said, trying to hand it to you as you walked past the piano with the step ladder.

"I am absolutely not accepting your money, Edith. This was the most entertaining part of my day. As long as your arthritis allows it, you can pay Bradley in extra piano lessons when he returns." 

The idea of Norfolk suddenly made you feel anxious, but Edith smiled. "Oh, he's an advanced student. He mostly just plays from memory. I only point out when he's flat instead of sharp."

You weren't sure how long it had been since Bradley checked in with her, but as long as he was allowed to come back to San Diego, you'd make sure he did it more often. "I'll send him over as soon as he gets back."

Edith smiled knowingly. "Something tells me he's not going to want to leave your side right when he gets back. But maybe after a day or two, you could send him over?"

"I'll do that," you told her with a chuckle.

After you walked back across the yard and let yourself inside, you kicked off your shoes and decided to treat yourself with one of Bradley's notes. You'd been trying to ration them, but they were all so tempting. The ones you had already opened were stacked up on the kitchen counter where you could easily find them to read them again and again. You took a few seconds to decide which one felt right, and you settled on Open me when you need a laugh.

Inside the envelope, you found no note at all. There was just one photo, and when you pulled it out, you burst into laughter. Natasha was right; twenty-two year old Bradley was endearingly skinny and mustache-less. He still wore that same grin today, but he really grew into his frame. You marveled over how fresh his scars looked in the picture, deciding to hang it up in the bedroom for now. 

And when you woke up on Sunday, the photo was the first thing you saw.

You reached for your phone thinking you could text Bradley before tossing it aside in frustration. You were frustrated in every way. Mentally and emotionally, but also physically. You missed sleeping next to him most nights. You missed his warmth and the way he kissed you. His strong body and attentive hands.

When you tried to burrow down under the covers in just his sweatshirt to go back to sleep, your skin felt like it was charged. Like there was an undercurrent of need that nothing would soothe except for Bradley.

Open me when you're in bed

That's what one of the envelopes said. You bit your lip before burying your face in Bradley's pillow and moaning. The need was still there, more palpable by the second. You had about an hour before Natasha was supposed to pick you up for brunch and the wine bar; it was the perfect time to read that note.

You ran down the hallway to the coffee table, grabbed the envelope, and took it straight back to bed. Your curiosity had been gnawing away at your mind over what could be in the note meant for the quiet solitude of the bedroom, and now was your chance to find out as you slipped back under the covers.

Gorgeous,

You better be in our bed right now. Maybe you just got home from work. Maybe you're still waking up for the day. Maybe you're ready to fall asleep soon, but you just need something to take the edge off. It doesn't matter, as long as you're thinking about me and my hands all over your body. I hope you're ready to read about how I would take care of you right now.... in an abundance of detail.

You moaned as you looked around the room, wide-eyed like someone was going to catch on to what he had written to you. Desire flared inside you as you squeezed your thighs together and took a few deep breaths before continuing to read.

You're beautiful inside and out. It's no surprise that you really get me going. One thought about the soft swell of your ass or the way you taste when you cum is enough to get me seriously hard. Jerking off while thinking about you is fantastic, but nothing compares to the real thing. Next time I see you, we're taking our time to get reacquainted, but right now, if I could have you, it would be fast and dirty.

"Oh god," you groaned, closing your eyes as you pushed his sweatshirt up, letting cool air meet your warm skin. Then your hand slid down to the apex of your thighs, and you weren't at all surprised to find you were wet.

You look sinful in that bed. I just know it. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. My lips would find your breasts before sampling my way down your belly to that soaking wet pussy. When I say every inch of your body is Gorgeous, I mean it. You've got such a tight, pretty little pussy, and I would love to tease you until you're so worked up, you're practically crying. Just my mouth and fingers until you're begging for my cock, Gorgeous. Go ahead. Beg for it.

"Bradley," you moaned softly, a complete mess for your boyfriend even when he wasn't with you.

Good girl. Now touch yourself just how I'd touch you. Rub yourself just right. Use two of those fingers to warm yourself up and then dip them down inside that perfect pussy. So fucking tight, you drive me insane when I can't be with you. I'd be right above you, singing your praises, telling you how much I love you, and pumping my fingers in and out of that pussy while you whine and beg.

This note was absolutely lethal. You were already close. Sweat beaded on your brow as you stroked your fingers along your clit before pumping them inside you. His name was never far from your lips as you kept reading.

You taste so fucking sweet. I'd run my tongue everywhere until you couldn't stand it. I would eat your pussy until you cum in my mouth. I'd keep going until I couldn't handle how badly I needed you. Then I'd fuck you so hard and fast, you'd have tears in your eyes, voice ragged as my body slapped against yours. Tits bouncing as I bottomed out, holding you in place as I came inside you. And then I would let you know that I'm yours.

I'm all yours, Gorgeous. You absolutely own me.

You were panting, grinding the heel of your hand against your clit as you came. Bradley's note fell from your fingers as your back arched off the bed, and you grabbed the sheet as you cried out. You could hear something familiar mingling with your own voice, but it took you a second to realize your phone was ringing as you writhed around in bed, heart pounding fast from your orgasm. You rolled onto your belly and grabbed your phone as you sucked air into your lungs.

Natasha Trace

Shit. Shit. You tried to get your breathing under control as you answered her call, but you even sounded strange to your own ears as you said, "Hello?"

There was a pause before Natasha asked, "I'm leaving now, and I might stop for a fancy coffee on my way to get you. Do you want something?"

"Sure!" you replied, trying your best to sound casual, but pretty sure you were failing.

"I'll be there soon."

You dropped your phone and reached for the journal instead to let Bradley know just how hard you came for him before you got dressed for the day. 

-----------------------------

"Bradshaw!"

It felt like an almost foreign concept for Bradley to hear his name now. Essentially nobody spoke to him outside of his mandatory meetings, and he'd spent so little time in a cockpit over the last few weeks, he spun around in surprise when someone called him.

Of course it was Admiral Walker. Bradley wasn't sure if he was being punished for what Cyclone had done, but he was hardly given any flight tasks to work on. But now that his deployment was starting to wind down, he realized the danger he was going to be flying into for his mission was much more than he originally anticipated.

"Admiral Walker, Sir?" he replied, saluting his superior officer. He wasn't looking to ruffle any more feathers here as long as it meant he'd be going home to you before too long. He felt sick with longing, missing you so much, especially at night, that he hurt until he was finally able to fall asleep. And then he'd wake up to the same choking feeling all over again the following day.

The older man examined him closely for a few beats before saying, "The weather looks ideal for tomorrow. You're team leader. Be ready to go at first light."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, because there was really nothing else to say. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could return home to his house in Coronado where you lived now. Where you were waiting for him. He just needed to get through this safely.

--------------------------------

I hate how isolated he feels. He's not thriving. He's not even eating well. He needs a hug. Gorgeous is enjoying the box of letters even is she is missing him terribly. I think I'll send him home soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

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[iamacebookworm]

This 30 second clip explains House & Wilson's entire relationship, in this essay I will -

This one 30 second clip summarises House and Wilson's entire relationship/dynamic; let me explain.

House is doing something both immoral and illegal. Smoking indoors is illegal enough, let alone smoking INSIDE A DAMN HOSPITAL! Which is also immoral and unethical. It's also unprofessional, considering House is on duty. Seeing a patient/visitor lighting up could be put down to either ignorance of how bad that is, or them not caring. Seeing a doctor do it is something else! Not to mention the doubly immorality (and irony) or smoking in an ONCOLOGISTS office - ya know, with smoking being a major risk factor for developing cancer, and all that. (Also; ya know who knows that more then anybody? Wilson, the head oncologist. Just saying) Not to mention, burning money, which House is doing here, is also illegal. All these laws stand in New Jersey, where 'House M.D' is set, (yes I googled it. I'm English. I dunno much about the states).

So James, "head oncologist, known goody-two-shoes, Never Done A Thing Wrong In His Life" Wilson, sees his bestie breaking at least three laws, crossing several ethical and moral boundaries, and gives a feeble, "we can't smoke in here."

Notice: WE can't smoke. Not "you." Not "House you maniac, YOU can't smoke in here, put that out!" WE can't smoke. Even as Wilson says this, he KNOWS he's going to smoke with House. He's just giving this fake protest so that he can tell others, and, most importantly, himself, that he said something, that he TRIED to stop the loose canon that is House, but House is gonna House. Nobody is going to blame poor, innocent, easily-manipulated Wilson for being swept away and 'controlled' by the evil, dominating, controlling House. This is all bullshit and we know it, but that's what people THINK of Wilson. They think he's this sweet innocent little cutie pie who's caught up in the human tornado that is Gregory House. Wilson is an actor; he pretends to be this picture perfect person. He's the ultimate people pleaser who does what he thinks everybody wants him to do and be. He's got a golden reputation and the world's highest high horse that he refuses to climb down from. However, he and House both know that Wilson's little act is all bullshit. Wilson is often MORE of a freak then House himself. Wilson LIVES for the chaos, the rule breaking, the going-against the grain. House is like the humanised form of all of Wilson's inner desires. House says what he wants and does what he wants. Deep down, Wilson wants to be as wild as House, but he can't/won't let himself, so he's Silently Wild while House is Loudly Wild. They're both wild, adrenaline junkies who match each others freak SO damn hard. So Wilson's little 'we can't smoke in here' is equivalent to this:

Willy Wonka, famously, gives negative 10 billion shits right here, and that's obvious. He wants Mike TV to go use his equipment. But, to be able to say "he tried" to stop Mike, Wonka gives this deadpan yell. That's literally what Wilson is doing. If House was genuinely like, "oh damn, you right," and put the cigar out, Wilson would malfunction windows-shut-down-noise style and we all know it. He wants to join in, and he can't join in without House. Wilson would never start the cigar smoking or any other rule-breaking, because he doesn't want to be seen as the bad one, so he uses House as an scapegoat, an excuse to do whatever the fucks he wants.

Ya know, who knows all this better then anyone? House. Notice how House doesn't even react to Wilson's little fake protest. Anybody else would react in some way, a 'do you really want me to stop?' or 'we can go outside?' or 'you know you wanna join in.' Something. He just points out that they also can't get people into the clinic based on a petty bet, which is something Wilson did in this very episode. Wilson put a patient through the clinic to try to prove House wrong about something, with a £100 on the line. He's pointing out that Wilson is just as much of a rule breaker as he is. Also notice: before House says this, Wilson has already sat himself down beside House, and before House has even finished his point, Wilson has already stuck out his cigar for House to light on that same burning £100 bill. House doesn't even need to finish pointing out Wilson's fake hypocrisy before Wilson has started doing what he wanted to do all along; join in!

Then, in perfect synch, they cock their feet up on the table, kick back, relax, and take synchronised pleasurable puffs. House says, "well?" Well, is it good? Well, was it worth it? Well, how's your acting job tasting? And Wilson says, "disgustingly satisfying." It's disgustingly satisfying to break the rules, to indulge in this pure pleasure without worrying about anybody or anything else, the way House does. To say 'fuck it' to all laws, morality, ethics, reputation and rules. To just be, here, in this moment, having fun with his best friend/soulmate/husband.

This sums up their entire relationship. They're Loudly A Bastard (House) and Quietly A Bastard (Wilson), and this clip proves it. To anyone who says/believes that Wilson is this doe-eyed little Bambi, controlled by the big bad wolf that is House, I hope this proves that he's Hell On Wheels too!

Full clip: https://youtu.be/gfb3axuDtvk?list=PLVpMeJVI2LHul8_M2KfDifDobawxpakaP

Note/ SPOILER FOR EPISODE/clip:

Season 8 Episode 9 ''Better Half''

*

*

*

As an Asexual, I don't approve of the implications this episode makes about Asexuality, but I can overlook that because House & Wilson are being hella gay. Plus, I just think of this as a Specific Case. Ok, so This Specific Patient isn't actually Ace, so what? I choose to not take that as a bash against actual Asexuals :) House hates everybody equally, after all 🤷‍♂😁

[cvnntagious]

♱ ⋮ 𝐟𝐫𝐚����𝐛𝐨𝐲!𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⸝⸝

all my fratboy!chris blurbs, fics, and wips : here

fuckboy!matt ver. here

⇢ SFW

✱ fratboy!chris who, of course, met you at a party his fraternity threw and instantly decided you were comin' up to his room at some point, even if it wasn't gonna happen that night

" y'look good "

" me? "

" yeah, you— wa's y'name? "

✱ fratboy!chris who's known all too well by girls at boston university, though, despite contrary belief, he doesn't actually entertain most of them... guess you got lucky?

✱ fratboy!chris who's BU's resident dealer, known by every fiend on campus and more

✱ fratboy!chris who doesn't fuck with relationship labels whatsoever

✱ fratboy!chris who doesn't mess with anyone else, and doesn't want you to either, even though you guys aren't really 'dating'

✱ fratboy!chris who has no problem letting everyone know you're his with pride

✱ fratboy!chris who would rather focus on his lacrosse career than "some shitty college romances", or at least that's how he explains it to you

" and why are you telling me this? "

" jus' thought y'should know... i'on want you gettin' any funny ideas about what we got goin' on here "

✱ fratboy!chris who avoids any conversations about the future, or anything that requires him to even think about committing

✱ fratboy!chris who constantly needs you with him, whether he's just lounging around, at practice/games, or out making moves. ironic, isn't it?

✱ fratboy!chris who doesn't call you anything but mama, not even ma, no matter the occasion

" y'see how crazy you're bein' right now? mama, m'jus sittin' here, see? can't stand when y'do allat whinin' shit "

" don't call me mama right now, chris, i'm done with all your fake nonchalant ass games "

✱ fratboy!chris who, even with being admired for his outgoing and charming personality, has such a rotten temper, especially when things don't go his way

✱ fratboy!chris who always says what's on his mind - to you, his friends, random people, anyone - even if it's completely unnecessary

✱ fratboy!chris who absolutely relishes in the respect he has from not only his peers, but the staff as well. humble's simply not a word in his world

⇢ NSFW

✱ fratboy!chris who's big and knows how to use it

✱ fratboy!chris who favors doggy, but can also get down with some rough missionary

" nah, s'okay mama... we'll switch it up tonight, don't worry "

✱ fratboy!chris who likes giving, but loves receiving. the image of your lips wrapped around his length is what helps him to sleep at night

✱ fratboy!chris who's a huge hair puller and thigh slapper (as well as occasional cheek squeezer)

✱ fratboy!chris who will take any opportunity he possibly can to either roll up or puff his joints while you use him

✱ fratboy!chris who makes sure to leave marks. usually where only you two can see, but if he feels like a guy's paying too much attention to you, he'll mark you on your neck or something for him to see

" chris, it's so obvious. how am i even gonna cover this up? "

" don't cover it. i'd like to see m'try an' get in your pants again when he sees allat "

" he literally asked for the material in our class..? "

✱ fratboy!chris who's almost always down for trying something new, but isn't usually one to suggest it

✱ fratboy!chris who loves when you praise him, even if it's unintentional. simple things like "so big," or "so good," really get him going

" yeah, s'good? y'wan more of that good shit? "

✱ fratboy!chris who, to no surprise, is horrible at aftercare.

a/n : i fear this took a lot longer than i thought it would to make... but i'll be making at least one of these for each of my au's since a) i'm unmotivated/don't have time to actually write, and b) want to develop the characters (and some of their pairings) further

-love, grandma cvnty ☆!

[noxiatoxia]

Mikan wants to be "forgiven"...but what does that really mean?

Hello. This is something that has been quietly on my mind for a while.

It's something shown in the game in chapter 3. Mikan really focuses in on "being forgiven".

And while not a mistranslation per se, I think it's inaccurate to what is happening in the game.

I've talked about this extensively - the fact ENG DR team has a very bad habit of translating things literally or very directly. This leads to either clunky dialogue, missed nuances, or just incorrect interpretations sometimes.

I think this in particular falls somewhere between 2 and 3. I'll explain why.

If translated literally, the English text works just fine, but as with a lot of literal translation, it misses the "feeling" of what was trying to be conveyed. If you want my translation...

Mikan: Won't someone just tell me what I did wrong!? Why won't anyone just let it be already!?

While Mikan doesn't say "What did I do wrong", there is a subtle emphasis on her talking about herself...I feel like it's a more natural way to word what is essentially "What is it that I did differently [to warrant this]?"

Anyways, to the main point...I hope you can kind of see what I'm getting at.

"Forgive" feels like...Mikan is seeking people to "pardon" her for perceived wrong-doings. And while not untrue I would say, the way Mikan specifically uses the word and the context it is in, to me, feels much more like she is using it like "allow" or "excuse".

Let me use another example to better explain myself.

The last line to me reads like Mikan needed this person to pardon her for being born; for existing. That her existence in and of itself was a mistake or wrong-doing that needed to be forgiven.

I think that's missing the point, though.

Mikan: They allowed me to exist.

See, the point is...Mikan is a very troubled person. She admits as much in the freetime events that wherever she goes, she is horribly bullied just for existing. That she hated being bullied, but even more she hates being forgotten.

She emphasizes her beloved (Junko) did not hate her, and in fact allowed her presence...

This line was heavily misread, I think. 許して���け入れて was read as two verbs in one sentence (which it is) but as "forgive and accept" which is incorrect to what it means. It's closer to "they tolerated me" (like, accepting and moving on). Which comes to how I would translate it, and my final point:

Mikan: They accepted me for who I am.

This is why I think the "forgive" thing is not only incorrect, but actually opposite of what this scene was going for. Junko did not "forgive" Mikan for the sin of existing. Rather, she was the only person who seemed to not mind that she existed, that didn't bully or ignore her.

She didn't "forgive" Mikan, she allowed her to be herself.

Another reason DR3 totally missed the mark, but I digress...

I guess while I'm on the topic, we all know that scene where Mikan has a little back-and-forth with Nagito...that, too, was misrepresented somewhat.

Putting the English here just for comparison sake. And while not the worst translation in the world, it certainly isn't how I would go about it.

Nagito: I don't...really get what you're trying to say... Mikan: Oh, you don't? (lit: you don't understand?) Mikan: Is that because you don't have any loved ones in your life? Mikan: Is it because there's no one who will love you?* Mikan: Oh, you poor thing...I feel very sorry for you.

*Literally speaking, she says "Is it because you are a person nobody allows" but considering the context thus far, it's easy to conclude she means that there's no one who will love/accept him for who he is.

*Adding "also" to the line is a mistranslation, I believe. も means also but it is also used for emphasis, which I think it is here. Not that it's impossible Mikan is using it to say "also", but in these lines of dialogue she is intentionally contrasting how she does have someone who loves her and that she can love, so to then identify a similarity between her and Nagito, I think, wouldn't make much sense...

Mikan is one of my favorite characters, so little details like this matter a lot to me.

[hels-a-noon-june]

Welcome to Hels-A-Noon June!!

The Concept

SO. What is Hels A-Noon June? Simple. It's a 30 day drawing challenge encouraging fans of Hermitcraft and Modded Crew to conceptualize and design their own Helsians!! It's a dying art and I wanted to revive it!!

The Rules

All fanwork is allowed! Fanfics about your Helsmits, fanart of them, concept artwork, etc etc... I just wanna see the Helsmits of the fandom!!!

Tag your posts as #helsanoon, I'll try my best to reblog as much art as I see

You DO NOT have to draw a new drawing every day, you are 100% allowed to prep your drawings and queue them for the month! You're also allowed to skip days if you don't have any ideas. This isn't meant to be stifling or anything. If you have a Hermit or Friend you want to draw a Hels for, draw them first and queue it up!! This is literally just to encourage fun and edgy designs based on the Cubitos!!

The rules aren't super strict, you don't really have to do them in order, heck, you don't even have to do them in June. This is a super loose, fun thing.

If I miss any posts, I'll add them to a bit ol queue

What the Heck is a Hels!?

So for those of you who don't actually know what the heck I'm talking about!! A Helsmit, or a Helsian as I like calling them, is just. The Hels counterpart of a Hermit. The only canon Helsmit is Helsknight, we don't actually know if others exist! But that hasn't stopped anyone!!!

There are 2 ways fans typically go about designing Helsmits.

One approach to making a Helsmit by simply making the opposite of the respective Hermit. This is a pretty common method and I can totally see the appeal. It IS a Mirror Dimension after all

The other approach to making a Helsmit is by taking a trait, whether positive or negative, and twisting it until it's something bad. You're making an evil little guy here.

Who's Running this Blog?

This blog is currently being run by @galaxygermdraws! Local Hels enthusiast (Me n one of my friends have 40+ Helsians). I use he/they/it and I will actively be participating myself!

Other things explained below

Why are there Non-Hermits in this prompt list?

Simple answer, because I think it's cool! Back when Skizz wasn't a Hermit, I was potentially the first person to create a Hels version of him! I also made it a point to make a Hels Scott and a Hels Jimmy. Nowadays, it's not uncommon to see Hels versions of Life Series folks! Heck, one of the more popular Hels fics has a very relevant Hels Jimmy!!

Can I Draw Fanart of Other People's Helsmits?

ABSOLUTELY!!! As long as you tag who you're drawing fanart for, it's free game. No passing off a Helsmit that isn't yours as your own, though!! That's stealing!! And that's bad! I know we're celebrating evil clones here but we don't do that!

But yes, you're allowed to draw fanart for other Hels, I know of a Hels Tango that I bet multiple people would want to draw

Why Are You Even Doing This?

I'm doing this literally just because I want an excuse to make references for my Helsmits, design some new ones, and I just want to see Helsblr revived from the dead. I won't even lie I was inspired by Hermit-A-Day May to do this, and I only chose the month of June because it's Helsknight's birth month!

Having said ALL OF THIS!! I hope you have a fun Hels-A-Noon June. I bet a lot of you guys just got done doing Hermit-A-Day May, and you're insane for that. But if ya feel like doing any of this? I hope you enjoy it

[bluecrocss]

Yes. You are racist. (Buckle up, this is gonna be a long one)

So approximately half a year since the premier of the Disney+ Percy Jackson show, and almost two years since the announcement of the Trio's casting, I would like to take this moment to look back at the insane, racist and anti-black backlash that was launched at Leah Sava Jeffries and a few other cast members from the PJO fandom.

I'm not concerned with the trolls who are openly racist, who resorted to racist slurs and outright threats, everyone agrees that they "took it too far". I want to talk about the rest of you, the "I'm not racist, but.." people, the "What's wrong with wanting book accuracy?" people. Just to let you know, for the unasked question... yes, yes you are.

I've noticed the Percy Jackson fandom has been lording some weird superiority complex over a certain *unnamed* fandom that has fallen out of grace due to their recently outed bigot of an author. But honestly, y'all are not much different. The amount of vitriol and anti-blackness I have seen from this fandom (beyond just bullying a 12 year old girl), y'all don't have a leg to stand on.

Below is a breakdown of the most common arguments I have seen used to justify y'alls absolutely insane bigotry. I am going to explain why none of these justify the amount of anger and vitriol y'all have sent towards Leah, Rick or any of the cast.

I am not here to argue, and this is not a democracy. I am giving you a chance for some self-reflection and to understand that this pattern of violence directed towards POC actors (mostly black women) has never been justified in the name of "book accuracy"/"comic book accuracy"/"ending forced diversity" or whatever other excuses y'all try to make up.

If you still try to justify or argue further for any of these points, I will just block you. I am not coddling you through your racism. If anyone has seen any other dumb arguments floating around that I might've missed, feel free to sound off in the comments.

She's not book accurate:

Neither is Percy, Luke, Grover, Dionysus, Poseidon, and just about every other named character.

Rick already made it clear that physical features were not the priority with casting, rather it was actors that embodied the role. So why are the biggest complaints about Annabeth and Zeus? 🤔

What? You're gonna say everyone else got backlash too? I see you trying to obscure the main issue by playing dumb 😉

See my friend, yes, there were one or two comments about how Percy's hair should be black or how Luke is supposed to be blonde, but as soon as Leah was cast, none of those actors got any significant backlash. In fact, Walker and Charlie literally have an army of fan girls at their beck and call, calling them the perfect Percy and Luke, despite neither being "Book accurate". But then again, have we not observed the pattern of White boy of the month vs WOC to hate for the year? (Yes, I know Charlie isn't white. Further adds to the irony, doesn't it).

Why include character descriptions if you won't stay true to them, you cry? Well, my dear sweet moron, see, books and TV are two different mediums. Because in literature, you can't *Literally* SEE the characters, the author has to add descriptions to paint a picture in your mind, in TV... that's not an issue. So unless the character's appearance is necessary to the plot (like Luke's scar, or Nico being Italian) the show runners can actually focus on more important things.. Like ACTING and PERSONALITY.

2. It's just not how I imagined her:

News flash, babe! ANNABETH ISN'T REAL. None of these character are. They are concepts that originated from the brain of Mr. Rick Riordan. It doesn't matter how YOU imagined her. There are millions of people who read these books that imagined her several different ways. When the creator of the character watched Leah's audition and said, 'Yes! She embodies the character I created!", your imagined version of Annabeth ceased to matter. And guess what? The books still exist... they have not been burned. Your version of Annabeth has not disappeared. Go read the books.

3. Zeus can't be black/Gods have to be Greek/*Insert Character* can't be black:

Y'all did not read the books, I swear. You have to be fake fans looking to troll atp.

The gods move based off the center of western civilization. They change their forms/environment to reflect the culture they are occupying (they did it with Rome, now they're doing it with America). The gods change forms all the time. How we see them is not their true form as a mortal would disintegrate if they were to see their true form.

America is a cultural melting pot (specifically NY where Mount Olympus is now based). If the god's choose forms that reflect the current society they inhabit, they could literally be any race (keep in mind NYC is only 33% white).

All of this is literally SPELLED OUT in the Lightning Thief.

Furthermore, if you're going to push the ethnically Greek thing... Poseidon is British with a British accent and Hermes is Latino. The only ethnically Greek actor is Dionysus (who still doesn't look book accurate). Y'all are sounding like some white supremacists because do you forget that race is a social construct?

Before the advent of the transatlantic slave trade, I can promise you that the Greeks and the Anglo-Saxons did NOT view themselves as the same people. Why are y'all not taking issue with Poseidon's actor then?

Also, Percy Jackson has canonically had a slew of explicitly black demigods since the second book (including Harriet Tubman, which I have mixed feelings about 😭), so I genuinely have no idea where some of y'all are going with this point.

4. She was our smart blonde representation:

Don't pmo. I swear to God!

White, blonde women have NEVER been excluded from Hollywood. Representation is not something you lacked. The dumb blonde stereotype was a simple branch off of a larger misogynistic "dumb woman" stereotype. It has not truly been relevant since the mid 2000s outside of childish jokes.

This iteration of Percy Jackson will probably not go beyond the first 5 books, based off pacing and the age of the actors. So here's a fun game: 5 bucks to the first person who can find me a quote in the first 5 Percy Jackson books, where Annabeth laments her insecurities about being blonde (hint: there aren't any).

Also, her blonde hair does not hold her back at Camp because she is head of the Athena Cabin who are highly respected (and guess what?), ARE ALL BLONDE!

Her insecurities about her hair color are two or three lines at most in the later books, not this fundamental, core part of her character y'all all of a sudden wanna pretend it was. And guess what, as a non-blonde black girl, I was able to read those scenes of Annabeth feeling undervalued because of her looks and relate to her even if she didn't look like me at the time.

Why all of a sudden can y'all not do that with a black Annabeth? By every metric black girls are undervalued for their intelligence in academia more than white girls are, regardless of hair color. So your little representation of a woman undervalued by her looks would still hold. Do y'all dehumanize black women so much, that you are incapable of empathizing with show!Annabeth's plight in the way I could with Book!Annabeth simply because she doesn't look exactly like you?

Your issue isn't that she isn't blonde, it's that she is NOT WHITE.

Furthermore, Becky Riordan had tweeted previously (before the show was even cast) that Annabeth never needed to be blonde (probably recalling the BS y'all put Alexandra Daddario through), so even if they cast a white Annabeth, the blonde hair was never a guarantee. the author and producers all agree that it was not a significant part of her character. It's been a non-issue since day one.

Also, stop acting like smart blondes are rare in media... If you don't go watch some Legally blonde, Iron Man (Pepper Potts), Zack and Cody (Maddie), Liv and Maddie, FMAB (Winry), Captain Marvel, She-Ra, Buffy, The boys (starlight) etc. etc., and go sit down somewhere 🙄🙄🙄 (those were literally all things I've watched recently, off the top of my head, btw 💀)

5. It's not about race, but...:

Yes it is. It was always bout race. No other actors got as much hate as Leah. Her grandmother and other family members on IG had to mute their comments because they were getting so many threats.

Alexandra Daddario had to come to her defense on Twitter. Rick had to put out an official statement on his website. This girl has endured years of psychological torment for simply having the best audition. No one else is book accurate, no one else is ethnically Greek (except Jason Mantzoukas). Walker literally has British and German ancestry.

Why was she being called racial slurs on reddit and in youtube comments?

I know what you're gonna say, "I actually had problems with the entire cast", "I actually had a bigger issue with Walker's hair color", blah blah blah. Then why aren't you in Walker's comment sections? Why are you only making your displeasure known on posts defending/advocating for Leah? Why is she always your first example of 'wrong casting"?

Well, she "looks the most different"... Look up the term "scapegoating".

"Oh, I don't agree with the harassment. I just don't like the casting." Guess what? She's already been cast. They are not going to uncast her. What do you get out of still complaining about it.

All the vitriol you're stirring about her when you complain about her on Social media, it is directing people to send her hate, even if you're not writing it directly. It's is not enough to "not agree" with the racism, it is your duty to actively prevent it. And btw, these are young gen z actors, they are active on social media. They see the edits of themselves (even comment on it) and they most likely see these little "harmless" complaints you're posting. Are your upset feelings really worth contributing to the racist dogpile on this poor girl?

6. Why couldn't they atleast give her blonde braids?:

Why should they? Y'all wanted blonde because of the "dumb blonde" trope... that doesn't apply to POC.

A blonde black girl is gonna be viewed the same as a non-blonde black girl (or at worst, someone might decide she's "ratchet" or some shit for wearing colored hair). What difference would it make?

Why shouldn't Walker dye his hair, then?

7. Annabeth has Gray eyes:

Less than 3% of the global population has "gray eyes". Even if they cast a white actor, they would've needed contacts. Her being black is not the reason Annabeth's eyes aren't gray. Simply put, it is a plot element they removed, like the whole "names have power" element, or Ares having flames for eyes, or Dionysus using his powers to grow strawberries at Camp.

That's how adaptations work. Unnecessary plot elements are cut to save time and budget. This has nothing to do with her casting. They probably also didn't want to make child actors wear contacts (not a new practice).

8. Even if Rick chose her, he was wrong/Disney is forcing him to be okay with it:

Where do I start? Rick created the character. He can't be wrong. Do y'all have no self-awareness? Death of the author has no place here, because y'all are hung up on an aspect of the character that is not relevant to her arc or development.

Y'all's justification for wanting a "book accurate" Annabeth is that she was such an inspirational and important character growing up, and yet your behavior is so in conflict with the character you claim means so much to you. You're narrow minded, dismissive of bigotry and injustice, and disrespectful to the wishes of the creator of your favorite character; everything that Annabeth would never be. Y'all were never genuine fans of the books. You're bigots that needed an outlet for your rage.

Keep in mind, Rick has said countless times that PercaBeth directly mirrors his relationship with his wife. Y'all think he would have allowed them to cast someone who doesn't live up to the woman who has been by his side for decades? The mother of his children?

Regarding Disney forcing him, show me one piece of direct evidence that proves Disney in anyway pressured Rick to cast her. Cuz if you can't, that's baseless speculation. And if you have to resort to baseless speculation, maybe try to examine why it's so important to you to hold on to this belief.

9. So, I'm racist because I hate "race swapping"?:

To start, there is a difference between "race swapping" and "color blind casting". Often times, when y'all complain about the former, you're actually mad about the latter.

It would be "race swapping" if Rick and the team decided ahead of time that they wanted a black Annabeth and ONLY allowed black actors to audition. But the actual reality was that they accepted auditions from everyone (there were white actors and non-black poc that also auditioned for the role) and chose the best person who embodied the role. They didn't "make Annabeth black" and they didn't "make Zeus black", they cast black actors for those roles.

Y'all think you're being slick with your wording. Dismissing that is implying that they did not earn their roles fair and square. Which is racist. It's the equivalent of going up to a black college student and telling them they only got in because of affirmative action. You're dismissing the achievements of a person solely because of their racial background.

For all you people complaining about "unfairness" and "forced diversity", I would think hiring based on merit would appeal to you 🤔

71% of theatrical Hollywood leads were white in 2024 in comparison to 29% POC and you still think "black washing" is a thing? You still get this angry over a black person fairly earning a role because you think in a time where Hollywood only knows to do remakes and adaptations, that the majority of lead roles still *have* to be reserved for white actors?

Once again, white people have never been excluded from Hollywood for being white. Representation has never been something you lacked nor is it something you can lose. Your anger comes from seeing a black face where you think they don't belong. Because you feel you are owed a disproportion of representation in Hollywood.

10. Woke agenda/DEI/Forced Diversity:

If you are unironically using any of these terms in a negative light, it's already too late for me to reason with you. Look up the term "dog whistle". If you are sharing the same terminology with Elon Musk and his fanboys, maybe reevaluate some things.

POC are objectively underrepresented and have been historically excluded through actual laws and policies in Hollywood. There is no such thing as "forced diversity", you have bought in to a right wing conspiracy theory.

"Woke" is a term that was intentionally appropriated from the black community. It originally meant being aware of injustice and systematic threats to the community and is now being weaponized by bigots. Good job.

Diversity and inclusion is a good thing.

11. But POC deserve to have their own stories told:

We do. And we have been fighting for it for over a century now, and we've made great strides, no thanks to y'all.

No thanks to y'all gaslighting us about how little representation we get or that representation matters at all. No thanks to y'all pushing the idea that POC can't sell globally and obscuring POC actors in international promos. No thanks to y'all continuing to whitewash even to this day (Bullet train, the beguiled, gods of Egypt, atla, every portrayal of Jesus ever, etc.). No thanks to y'all calling every piece of media that has more than one black lead and more than one queer couple "woke". No thanks to y'all throwing a fit every time a black person in a fantasy setting isn't a slave.

Fact of the matter is, y'all never cared about POC "getting their own stories", you're only parroting our own words back to us now as a politically correct way of saying, "leave white roles alone" lmao

Well fun fact, actors of color getting opportunities to play lead roles and allowing poc to "tell their own stories" are not mutually exclusive. If y'all cared that much, instead of bullying a 12 year old actress, you could actually support up and coming independent POC writers, directors, and studios 😱

12. Studios need to stop "setting up" actors of color:

Do me a favor and google the term DARVO.

Your racism is not the fault of the studios for giving a POC actor a role that they earned. It is not up to the rest of society to tiptoe around racists to avoid their vitriol. It is our responsibility to hold them accountable and protect minorities from unwarranted hate. At most, you can say it's the responsibility of the studios to provide adequate support to POC actors who face this backlash.

At the end of the day, Hollywood only allows very few spots for POC actors (especially WOC), while simultaneously pushing a new white boy every month to put in everything. Putting minorities in these roles that are usually closed to them, usually opens the door to more actors of color than before.

Brandy being cast as Cinderella did a lot to push her into the mainstream (yes, she was already extremely famous in the black community atp), Halle Berry being the first, black, bond girl literally shot her to icon status, and even going as far back to what Anna Mae Wong did for Asian American actresses with her "femme fatale" roles.

At the end of the day, even with the backlash, *some* rep does more good for POC actors than *no* rep. The solution to racist backlash isn't to take away those opportunities, but rather to not be racist??? 🙄

Also, for everyone that claims that "POC race-swapping" is just as bad as "white-washing", despite white washing having a longer history and objectively causing more harm, note how the backlash to white washing never lasts as long as the harassment that POC get.

Like, no one brings up Scarlett Johansson's ghost in the shell role anymore, but you can best believe Candace Patton is still fending off racist trolls. As much as people hated the atla movie, people moved on quick from Nicola Peltz playing Katara since she was just a kid that accepted the role (re: daddy bought her the role), but y'all would not have any of that consideration for Leah Sava Jeffries.

But I digress...

13. What if we made Tiana white? Wakanda white? Hazel white...:

Ah, my favorite inane point. I was so excited to get here :)

See, I could start out by pointing out how "White washing" and casting a POC actor as a traditionally white character are not equivalent.

I could point out the history of hollywood ACTIVELY excluding POC actors and POC stories. I could point out how grossly over represented white people are in hollywood. I could point out that POC characters are so few in comparison that whitewashing them causes actual harm, where white people have never lacked rep.

I could point out how, because poc characters and stories are so often tokenized that their racial/cultural background is often directly tied to their character's identity, in opposition to a lot of white characters, since hollywood treats white as the "Default".

See, I could make all those points, but the thing is, the people who make this argument already know all that. They are trying to waste time by drawing me into a pointless circular argument that will sum up to "fair is fair", while ignoring all the context and nuance I previously provided.

So you know what? Forget it. Let me play your game.

I am actually fine with a white Tiana. Would it make sense, for her and her family to experience Jim Crow era racism, in the south while white? No. But we can look past it. Disney was never known for historical accuracy anyway 🤷🏿‍♀️

However, in exchange, the live action frozen will have a black Elsa and Anna, live action Rapunzel will be black, live action Merida will be black, we're re-filming Cinderella and Beauty and the beast to cast a black belle and Cindy, snow white will need to be recast as black, and we also get aurora whenever the live action sleeping beauty is announced. But then y'all can keep Tiana, deal?

You want a white T'Challa? Fine! (I'm partial to Ryan gosling), in the meantime, we'll be recasting Iron man, Captain America (Steve version), Bruce banner, Thor, Loki, hawk eye, black widow, ant man, captain marvel, Bucky, Peter Parker etc. All the avengers and their side characters, then y'all can have Sam Wilson, war machine and the whole of Wakanda (will it make sense that a sole, hidden, African nation is randomly made up of white people? Who cares? We get the avengers!).

You want white Hazel? You got her! I hope you have no problem with us taking Percy, Nico, Will, Poseidon, Jason, calypso, Rachel, Tyson, Silena, the stoll brothers, Sally Jackson, Hades, Hepheastus, ares, etc. But y'all can have Hazel and Beckendorf.

If we're gonna do this, let's commit all the way. Fair is fair, after all.

14. Leah isn't as "pretty" as Book Annabeth/Movie Annabeth:

I wish I could say this wasn't a genuine point I had read, but when all else fails, they will always go for a woman's appearance.

Now first of all, as a rule, I will never hold black women to white beauty standards. Our hair will never be long and silky enough, our nose will never be narrow enough, our skin will never be fair enough and our eyes will never be light enough (Might I recommend Toni Morrison, when you get the chance?). But Leah is unfairly gorgeous idc what any of you say, and you're not gonna have me use my defense of Leah as an opportunity to bash Alexandra either because she is also beautiful. These two queens slayed to the best of their abilities within this toxic ass fandom.

I find it funny, however, that so many of you harped on the "blonde" issue because you thought it was important that Annabeth be seen beyond just her looks, but quickly devolve to bashing an actress's looks when it comes to why she's not right for this role 🤔

I would also like to sincerely apologize that the 13 year old girl they cast in the show, wasn't as sexually attractive to you as the 24 year old woman they cast in the movie and sexualized through like 25% of her screen time (I'm actually not sorry. You're very weird if this is an actual point for you).

15. I don't agree with sending hate to the actor, but she's just not right for the role:

Once again, what are you doing by complaining about her casting on no other basis than her race?

The creator of the character said she embodied the role. She has already been cast, and Disney would be in a legal/production hell to recast her atp. Just because you're not directly leaving comments on her social media doesn't mean you're not part of the hate mob.

No matter how you look at it, your issues with her casting come from a very entitled and narrow-minded place. When you join in on these dialogues you are bolstering a sentiment that pushes more people to harass this teenage girl. When you leave these "harmless" complaints, on show content, fan posts or posts defending her, she's liable to read them because the cast regularly interact with fans online.

What do you have to say that is so important that it trumps protecting a young girl from the long-staying trauma of racism, of being told she doesn't deserve something she worked for because of how she was born?

16. I can't even criticize the show without being called racist:

Get. Over. Yourself.

Y'all are not the victim. Have fans of the show gotten protective of Leah and the young cast? Yes.

With good reason. This fandom is unbearably toxic.

Racism outweighs your need for a "perfect adaptation", sorry.

If you explain yourself properly and keep your critiques fair (like, even I don't think this was a perfect season, and will be sharing my thoughts shortly), no one is gonna call you racist.

You're preempting with that because in all honesty, you're probably planning to use your "critiques" of the show to pivot to one of the many points that I just outlined, and you want to pre-empt the criticism.

If a black Annabeth is the end all be all for you, just don't watch the show, no one's holding a gun to your head. Geez.

17. I'm Black/POC and I don't agree...:

Hey, Candace Owens... No one gives a shit.

First of all, for all the "I'm POC and I don't agree" people, you don't speak for us. Anti-blackness is rampant in just about every culture globally. You being not-white doesn't somehow make you less prone to hating black people.

But for the "I'm black and I don't agree" leftovers (assuming you're not just a 👩🏼‍💻 behind a keyboard). Black people are not a monolith. You're not obligated to think a certain way because you're black.

But consider why you're putting yourself up as a barrier to protect this hate mob. It's one thing to just state why you don't like Leah's casting, but to start off your spiel with "I'm actually black" as a way to weaponize the very identity politics you're critiquing... very strange. Not to mention, what are you defending?

The black community is coming together to defend one of our own, a kid who has been receiving death threats since she was 12, and this is when you feel the need to back the opposition?

I mean whatever... sometimes the house slaves would snitch to the master. There will always be some of y'all in the woodwork. It is what it is.

But when the exact ideology you defend is turned against you, when a Baltimore elected official is being accused of getting his job through "DEI", when conservatives are claiming that they wouldn't "trust a black pilot", don't decide that's where you'll finally draw your line in the sand.

All that being said, This is my Annabeth:

May every tongue that rose against Leah Sava Jeffries Shrivel and die in 2025 🙏🏿 My girl will keep winning ❤️

(video by @/waleahhasmyheart on TikTok)

[eddiesxangel]

Hey!

I’m really bad at explaining stuff so bare with me haha😂

I was thinking that reader is a virgin and has never even kissed anyone, then she starts dating Eddie and he’s her first everything…

Then someday while they’re having sex, Wayne walks in on them and then he tries to talk to them about being safe and something like that 😅

The Sweet Days in the Shire | Eddie Munson x F!Reader

omg, this is so heavily inspired by my own experience...Are you in my walls? this is literally my experience with my current bf now...How did you know?!

Word count: 7.2k oops

Cw: This is NOT a fic about corruption kink. Angst, fluff, f!reader, readers first time (oral, fingering, p in v penetration) , reader and Eddie are 22. Happy ending 🤭

*Five years ago*

"I'm going to die alone," You groaned.

Were you being dramatic? Yes. But you were seventeen and truly felt like the most undesirable girl. No one had ever shown any interest in you. Your best guy friend, Eddie, was trying to convince you otherwise.

You had known Eddie since first grade but only got to know him once you went into tenth grade.

"Come on, don't be like that" Eddie spoke.

You were hanging out in the Shire, a.k.a. Eddie's bedroom, reviewing the new DND campaign, making sure there were no significant loopholes the others could get through.

"It's true! No guy had ever liked me like that, or if they have, they're all weird, and I don't like them back... Remember Lorne? He told me he liked me out of the blue when I hadn't spoken one word to him.'"

Eddie chuckled.

"It's not funny, Eddie! What was I supposed to say? I hardly knew the guy."

"I'm sorry. You're right. It's not funny." But he was still laughing.

"Ugggggggh," you rested your head back in defeat.

"So what if non of these shitty high school guys aren't interested? You're way out of their league."

"You're just saying that as my best friend."

"I'm really not. They are all douchebags or interested in anything other than getting a girlfriend."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Where do you fall in that line?"

"I'm different." He smirked.

All you could do was roll your eyes. Of course, Eddie was different. He was Eddie. Your Eddie. Eddie, who you sprung a teeny tiny crush on within the last couple of months.

"I feel like such a loser, Eds. I'm seventeen and haven't even had my first kiss." You admit, softly.

"What?" This caught Eddie by surprise.

"You heard me." You mumbled.

"Impossible."

"Well, I'm not lying." You snap.

"Don't believe you"

"Well, you don't think I would have told you if some guy came up to me and planted one on me?" You folded into yourself. Succumbing to your self-depreciation.

Why didn't he believe you? Was it really that hard to believe that you were such a loser that no one has even ever tried to kiss you?

"Okayyy. So what if I helped you with that?" he pushed you back up.

"What?"

"I mean-shit- you obviously don't have to; you probably don't want to kiss me. We are just friends. But if you want to get it over with, you can...-I can help you." He rambled.

"Okay," You answered without thinking. You've wanted to kiss Eddie for months. You wanted him to be your first.

"Yea?"

You nodded your head, afraid of what might come out of your mouth next.

"Uh-okay"

You both shift, so you're facing one another. You don't move, unsure of how to approach this. Eddie was much more experienced than you. He probably already lost his virginity at this point. But the two of you never spoke about that.

So here you were, sitting on his bedroom floor, with your eyes closed, like a statue, until Eddie leaned in. You felt his warm, plush lips against yours. Butterflies soared in your stomach. It was just like everyone always described it to be. You felt the connection, that spark. The kiss felt like it lasted hours when, in reality, it was nothing more than a peck. But as far as first kisses go, you were convinced it was the best.

"Wow," you let slip when he pulled away.

Eddie chuckled softly and leaned back on the bed like nothing had happened.

Your stomach dropped at the realization that you and Eddie were, in fact, just friends. He didn't feel the connection you had.

"Thanks," you managed to get out without your voice cracking in disappointment.

"Anytime, Pip." He smiled and then went back to the DND campaign...

To add more salt to your wound, Eddie was arm-in-arm with Veronica a week later. Eddie had never even mentioned interest in her. You spoke every day. You never once hear him display any interest in a girl... another girl when not even six days ago he was kissing you in his bedroom. And that's when you decided to distance yourself from Eddie Munson.

*Present Day*

After a very long four years of college out of state, you were back in your hometown of Hawkins, Indiana. Freshly twenty-two, you finally blossomed into the young woman you were meant to be. At college, you got to find yourself and your people. Once you had found your confidence, you grew into yourself. You had got a haircut that flattered your face and styled yourself with clothes that made you feel comfortable and confident. Before, it used to be all-black jeans and band tees that hid your figure. But now you find wearing skirts, dresses, and colour!

You used to be a late bloomer, but now you have gained many life experiences. However, you still need help in the love department. Your college years had been your party girl era, for sure. However, nothing ever went past a makeout session in the bar because you weren't like that... you wanted to have sex with someone you trusted, who you loved. Not some random stranger.

So here you were, back home in the early days of summer, and you were out job hunting. You'd been out on Main Street, in and out of stores, looking to see who was hiring, handing out your resume for about half an hour.

The sun was scorching for this time of year, causing you to start sweating and feel uncomfortable without air conditioning. As you walked by the local record store, you noticed they were advertising a job opening, and it felt like fate. You breathed a sigh of relief as you stepped inside the cool store. The door chimes jingled, announcing to anyone who was around that a customer had arrived. The store appeared empty, with not a soul in sight.

"Hello?" Your voice filled the empty air. "Hello?" You repeated once again a minute later with no reply.

"I'm here to apply for the job?" You peek around the back of the counter. As you looked over, you noticed a slightly open door. A figure passed by, but they didn't seem to notice you.

You respectfully waited a few more minutes but were becoming impatient. You decided to round the back of the counter and knock on the door labelled Staff Only.

"Excuse me." You knock and push it open a little further so you can see inside the staff room.

You notice a young man facing away from you, wearing headphones covering his ears. The loud guitar and bass sound emanates from the headphones. It's no surprise that he couldn't hear you.

"Excuse me?" You say a little louder, but it doesn't seem helpful. You sigh and walk up to him, hoping he doesn't take a swing at you for sneaking up on him.

Apprehensively, you tap the man's shoulder twice before stepping back quickly before they can react.

"What the fuck?" They rip off the headphones, and your stomach drops as you recognize the voice. Your prediction is confirmed as Eddie turns around with a frightened look on his face.

"You can't be back h-" He cuts himself when the reality of who he was talking to hits him.

"Eddie?" you cock your head in curiosity.

"Oh my God, Pippin?" he smiled brightly.

It had been four years since the last time you saw him. You briefly crossed paths in the hallways of Hawkins High, but the two of you hadn't spoken more than a sentence to each other since the day he kissed you. It was nice to hear his voice again.

"Hi," You smiled.

Eddie swore he heard angels singing when you spoke. You looked different, good, but different. More confident. More like yourself.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Trying to apply for the job posting. I've been waiting ten minutes in the store calling out for someone like a moron." You giggled.

"Shit, sorry, I was just on my break." He scratched the back of his head, letting his bicep flex in his tight band tee.

You tried your best not to stare at him, but your attraction to Eddie lingered. He looked really good, having filled out more and grown out more facial hair than he had in high school. He still, however, had his pretty wavy locks. They were just a bit shorter than you were used to.

"Oh, sorry, I can come back later."

"No!" He blurted out. "I mean, it's really good to see you..."

"It's nice seeing you too; it's been a long time," you shy.

"Yeah" He sighed.

"So are you the person I need to talk to about the job or..." You try to fill the awkward silence.

"Shit, yeah, I guess so. I'm, uh, the manager." He cleared his throat.

"Wow, manager, very impressive! Moving on up in the world, Munson," You laugh.

"Watch is missy; you want the job or not?" He slung his arm around your shoulder and walked you back out to the front of the store.

You couldn't help the shiver that broke through your body when his arm made contact with you. It didn't help that he also smelled delicious.

"Well, if it means I get to work alongside you? ... Yeah, I want it," You flirt.

"Oh, I see buttering up an old confidant for a job." He smirked.

Things with Eddie returned to normal as if nothing had ever changed. Like you never left. Like he never kissed you, then broke your naive teenage heart.

"Well, the job is yours if you want it." He smiled.

"Just like that?" You ask in shock.

"Just like that. I don't wanna go through all that paperwork and boring questions. I know you, trust you. It's full-time. $5.50 an hour. So it's yours if you think you can stand working with me daily."

"I think I can manage that."

"Great. We can start training tomorrow at 10:00am."

"Deal." You reached out to shake his hand, but Eddie only stared at it like you were crazy.

"Come on, Pippin, a handshake? Who do you think I am? Bring it in." He opened his arms up to embrace you in a hug.

Pippin. No one but Eddie called you that. It was a nickname he gave you in the tenth grade because you were smaller than him... He said Pippin was the best hobbit from his favourite book.

"You know I could have robbed the store, and you wouldn't have known a thing," you quip, trying to play off the way your breath hitched when you embraced him.

Your hormones would have to chill if you were going to work together.

"That's why security cameras were invented, sweetheart."

"Oh," You shied away. You weren't as clever as you had thought.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he guides you out the door.

"Bye, Eddie." You smile.

Over the next three weeks, you and Eddie picked up where you had left off all those years ago. Things were good, great even. The flame that had been blown out was brought back to life and hotter than ever. There was an extreme tension between the two of you.

However, you both were avoiding the elephant in the room. It was fine until it wasn't. It was eating at Eddie. He loved having you back, but needed to know why you left and ended the friendship.

You were stocking up the new supply of jazz cassettes that came in when you felt Eddie come up behind you.

"Hey, so -uh- what happened?" he leaned back on the shelving, as he crossed his arms.

"What do you mean?" you chirp. Did you do something wrong? Was the till not even?

"With us, I mean, one day we were best buds, and then the next you were just... gone. I really missed you."

Oh, so we are having this conversation. You knew it was inevitable.

"You mean you really don't know?"

"Know what?"

"God, men are dumb," you mumbled under your breath.

"Hey! I heard that"

"Good." You deadpan.

Eddie stared at you blankly.

"You kissed me, Eddie. That meant something to me. Then you were with Veronica a week later..."

"Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, what?" Eddie's eyes went wide with confusion.

"Eddie..." You sighed. This conversation was giving you a headache.

"Pip, I didn't? I wouldn't. I-"

"Forget it, Eddie. It was a long time ago."

"Did you like me or something?" He genuinely asked.

"Or something," You mumbled back.

"Pip, I'm sorry I didn't know... I had no idea you liked me like that. I would have never offered to kiss you if I had known. I never wanted to lead you on."

"It's okay, Eddie. We were seventeen. I eventually got over it, but I had to not be around you to do that. I'm sorry I ran away... I missed you. Like a lot."

"Pip-" Eddie began, but a customer was ready to be rung up at the counter.

The rest of the day was busy, and your shift ended before Eddie's did today. So you quickly said goodbye and waited to talk to him the next day.

Eddie needed to make things right between you. What you had once was so good, and now it seems to be even better than before. Eddie was becoming infatuated with you. He got excited to go to work when you were on schedule. He loved making you laugh; seeing that beautiful smile across your face was his favourite pastime. He could have had that all these years, but it was all ruined for some hot piece of ass Eddie got for a few weeks in their senior year.

Eddie had met Veronica in his grade twelve English class. She was way out of his league, so when she agreed to go out with him, he was only thinking with his dick.

He was thinking about her and how she would be on his knees for him when he kissed you for funsies. He was not thinking about how it would have affected you. He was a selfish teenage boy being controlled by his hormones. Because of that, Eddie was now facing the consequences of his actions all because he wanted to get his dick wet in the twelfth grade.

“Hey Pip, can I talk to you for a sec?” Eddie greeted you when he walked in for his shift mid-afternoon.

“Sure what’s up?” Things were a little rocky since yesterday and you didn’t know where you stood.

God what was this so hard? Why did you make him nervous?

“I uh. I was hoping we could hang out… you know. Outside of work. If you wanted. I wanted to make up for being an ass.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.

"Okay." you smiled.

"Awesome! We are both off on Friday… I made sure.” Eddie said with a goofy smile. God, you were so falling for him again.

You and Eddie have been spending time together outside work every chance you have had for the past six months. He invited you to see your old high school crowd the first few times, and then it slowly became more one-on-ones. Unfortunately for you, your ever-growing crush on Eddie had come back and was stronger than ever.

You hated yourself for falling for him again, but you couldn't help yourself. He was just so charming, boisterous, funny, and not to mention the most attractive man you've seen. Eddie was a natural flirt; he always was throwing compliments your way. He always knew how to make you blush.

That evening during closing, Eddie offered you to come over to The Shire. a.k.a his trailer. After a long, tiring day, both of you wanted some relaxation. He suggested staying in and having a cozy evening with pizza, beers, and perhaps a little weed to escape the cold November weather.

As the night progressed, it began to snow, and a snowstorm was predicted for later in the evening.

"Do you want your usual order, Pip?" Eddie turned his head to glance at you. You were standing near the front door, taking off your hat, scarf, and jacket. As he was watching you, he got lost in your graceful movements. Suddenly, he realized he was staring at you and almost bumped into his fridge.

"Yeah," you shiver. You almost thought about putting your coat back on, but that would be silly. "Can I borrow a sweater or a blanket?" You asked sweetly.

"Of course, sweetheart." Eddie didn't miss the way your nipples perked out of your low-cut t-shirt when you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to warm up, but it only emphasized your breasts.

"Where is Wayne tonight?" You asked.

"He has an overnight shift tonight; he probably just left not too long ago." He said as he disappeared into his bedroom to find you a clean hoodie.

"I'm sorry, I missed him; I haven't seen that guy in years." You huffed. You loved Wayne; he was like a second dad.

"Yeah, he keeps talking you up like I don't already know how amazing you are." He threw the black hoodie at your head.

"Hey!"

I just gave you my sweater and a compliment, I think you should be thanking me."

"Shut up and order the pizza before the storm, Munson." You laugh as you pull the sweater over your head.

You and Eddie settled in, splitting a six-pack of cheap beer and delicious pizza. You wanted to watch a movie after dinner, so Eddie found a few stashed away that he still had yet to return to Family Video.

"How do you feel about horror?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

"You know I don't like scary movies, Eds." You whine.

"Well, hate to break it to you, sweetcheeks, but this is all we got, so it's either this... or cable that will most likely be down within the next half hour if the weather keeps up." You glanced out the window, and if you didn't leave now, you were not making it home tonight. The storm had started a lot earlier than anticipated.

"Oh shit, it's awful out. I didn't think it would be this bad so soon! I should go... shit, I've been drinking, we both have! We can't drive!" You started freaking out.

"Pip, you can always crash here. I don't mind." He offered.

"Are you sure?" You twiddled with the drawstrings of the hoodie.

"Of course! You think I would let you go out there?"

"Well... no."

"We can share my bed". He said nonchalantly.

Was he insane?! You can not share a bed... with him... you'll want to do things with him. You can't take the rejection again.

"Umm."

"Well, I would sleep on the pull-out couch but Wayne sleeps there."

"It's okay... we are both adults," You swallowed. "Hey, do you have any more beer?" You needed a drink. Desperately.

"Oh, so we are having one of those nights? Edie wiggled his brows at you, and you rolled your eyes in return.

"I need liquid courage for these movies you're going to put me through," You fibbed.

"Don't worry, Pip. I'll protect you."

Two movies and many screams later, you called it. You were maxed out on the spooky stuff. Halloween was long gone, and you were supposed to be in Christmas mode.

"You can get ready for bed first. I'll follow after. Eddie offered.

You slipped into Edie's hoodie and got under the covers, realizing the sweater was long enough to be worn as a nightgown. Eddie would be none the wiser that you had forgone pants.

You called for Eddie to enter, and he got ready for bed. You tried to pretend to occupy yourself as you watched Eddie get undressed and ready for bed. He pulled his plaid pyjama pants over his boxers and forgone a shirt.

There was tension in the air, but neither of you said anything. You held your breath as Eddie turned off the bedroom light and felt the bed dip as he got in.

"Pip?" Eddie broke the silence moments later.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?'

"Sure."

"Did you ever date anyone when you went away?"

"No"

"No?"

"Well...I went on one date, and he was shorter than me..." You laughed at how ridiculous it was. You didn't even like him, but you felt bad because you agreed to give him your number when you were out dancing one night, and you'd consumed a little too much alcohol.

"How is that even possible?"

"Well, you see, Edward everyone has different heights an-"

"No, you doofus," he laughed. "how is it possible you never dated anyone? You're beautiful." He says like it’s obvious.

Eddie made you feel fluttery when he called you beautiful.

“What?”

“You’re beautiful, Pip," Eddie repeated. "You’re a total catch; how are you still single?”

“Guess I never met the right guy…”

“Oh... " It was quiet for a moment then Eddie spoke again. "I know you always said you uh- wanted to you know…. Wait for the right guy and all… so have you slept with anyone since you were gone?”

“Eddie!” you cry, covering your face with your hands. You’re so mortified by this conversation.

“I’m sorry! Can’t blame a guy for his morbid curiosity.” you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I can’t believe you remembered that. I mentioned it once six years ago.”

“I remember every thing when it comes to you.”

You felt his fingers intertwine with yours.

“Eddie…” you whisper.

“Yea”

"Ask me again."

"Are you still a virgin?"

You let out a deep sigh before you answered. “I’ve given it a lot of thought. And I want you to be my first.” you blurt out at a mile a minute.

“Pippin-”

“Just don’t go off with another girl next week or else I’m going to have to quit” you chuckle uncomfortably.

“Are you sure? Because if we start this I’m never going to want to let you go… not ever again.” He rolled over to face you.

“I’m so sure, Eddie, you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.” You rolled to face him.

You didn’t know where this bravery was coming from. Maybe it was the combination of alcohol and being in the dark, but something sparked inside of you that you couldn’t put out.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please”

You both moved in tandem as your lips collided. Years, months, weeks, days, hours, and minutes that all lead you to this moment, this perfect moment. Eddie and you always belonged together.

“I missed you so much,” Eddie spoke into your mouth as he shifted to hover over you.

“I missed you too. I missed you so much.” You grabbed for him, to touch and feel him. Your hands gripped his hair at the back of his head.

“Baby,” Eddie sat up and slinked his hands under his sweatshirt up your bare middle.

Baby. Goosebumps spread across your body from his touch. His calloused fingers lightly scratched your soft skin, and his hands travelled further up until his fingertips grazed your breasts.

“Can I take this off?”

“Yes,” The temperature in the room suddenly increased, making you feel extremely hot. The hoodie you were wearing became suffocating.

“Sit up for me, baby. Arms up.” You obliged and felt nervous that you were basically naked in front of Eddie. You pull your arms out of the sweater and cover yourself immediately.

“No, baby, please, don’t hide from me.” He gently peels your arms away from your body. “Beautiful,” He whispers with eyes full of lust.

You reached out to cup his face so you could kiss him again. You needed to distract yourself from the fact that you were naked in front of someone for the first time. Your kisses felt rushed and needy like you would die without them.

"Slow down, Pip, we have all the time in the world." Eddie coxed you back down into the plush pillows of his bed. "I'm going to take good care of you. okay?"

You nod your head yes to let him know you understand. The room was dark, but the street light peaked through the blinds. You could hear your heartbeat along with the howl of the wind from the snowstorm. You looked over to the clock. It read 12:18am. Wayne won't be home until early morning, at least 6:00am, especially in a storm like this.

Eddie leaned forward to kiss you again, travelling his lips down your body with each peck. His mouth found your neck, and he sucked on it, making your hips jerk up into him. You could feel his erection against your leg, which only excited you more.

He made his way lower once satisfied with the marking he left on your skin. He nipped and licked and peppered your sensitive chest before latching his mouth around a perked nipple. How Eddie fantasized about this very moment for months. To him, your boobs were perfect. The way your soft skin felt under his tongue, it was like they were made for him.

You let out a squeak, embarrassed by the noises you held back. You didn't know if this was normal? To want to make sounds while Eddie's mouth discovered your body.

"Don't be shy, baby. You can let it go. Get loud. I want to hear you."

"Are you sure, Eddie? Is that like... normal?"

"Oh god, yes, it's like music to my ears... Would it make you feel better if I shared with you what I like?"

"Yes."

"Okay, well." He clasped your hand, intertwining your fingers as he rested his chin on your upper stomach. "I like it when the person I'm with makes noises; it lets me know I'm doing well. I like it when the person I'm with takes compliments and praises. I like it when the person I'm with calls me certain names, but we will save that for another time. And I like it when I get to be in charge... like right now."

"What kind of names?" You bite your lower lip.

"Ah ah, naughty girl. You'll find out eventually. But not tonight." Eddie promised.

"Eventually?" your heart perked up with hope.

"You think this is going to be a one-and-done? You're sadly mistaken, Pip." He shifted his weight and started back up, loving your body. Worshiping it with a thousand kisses. Lower, lower, lower until he reached the hem of your plain black panties.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” His hand cupped your panty-covered cunt.

“No.” you shiver.

“I’m honoured to be your first” He slowly started to guide and move his hand over your clothed pussy, massaging it. Exploring what makes your body jerk and tick. You let out a gasp as his soft touch grazed over your already swollen clit.

"That's my girl." he cooed as his hand travelled up and under the hemline of your underwear.

His hand slid down your soft, manicured mound before finding your slit. He let one singular finger travel down your clit to collect the wetness that had pooled and dragged it back up to play with you some more.

"Oh my god," You yelped as the unfamiliar but wonderful feeling of Eddie's hands explored your body.

"You're so wet, sweetheart. This all for me?" He raised his hand to examine the clear, wet, slippery substance that coated his fingers. He then stuck his fingers in his mouth before his eyes rolled back into his head. He moaned at the taste of you.

You were curious if you should be turned on or grossed out by Eddie's behaviour. "You taste like heaven." He praised you, and your body ultimately decided for you. You were turned on.

"Please touch me," You barely whisper. You bravely started to take off your panties when Eddie's hands stopped you.

"That's my favourite part." His hands replaced yours, and he watched intently as he stripped you down into nothing.

You were now fully naked in front of Eddie. You were a bit nervous, but not overly concerned. You trusted Eddie because you've gotten to know each other better over the past six months.

"My god, you're beautiful," He praised once again. You don't think you will ever get tired of him saying that. Your heart soared each time without fail.

"So are you," You whispered back and swore you saw Eddie blush.

Eddie's hands found your needy pussy once more. He wiggled his way down the bed, and he played with your clit until his face was level with your cunt. You felt so exposed you wanted to close your legs right away. But you also wanted to know what it felt like to have Eddie's mouth on your most intimate area.

"Show me how you play with yourself."

This shocked you, and your body froze. How could he ask you to do such a crass thing? Eddie sure was pushing a lot of your boundaries tonight.

"Come on, sweetheart. It's okay, perfectly natural."

You didn't want to disappoint him, so with a trembling hand, you started to circle your clit like always. The feeling started as a mild ache in your lower stomach, but it began to rise as you continued. Your worries and apprehensions slowly drifted away as the feeling of pleasure wafted through your body.

"You never push your fingers inside?" Eddie was mesmerized by the sight in front of him.

You shake your head no. "Doesn't feel right." You were too afraid to finger yourself in the past, not wanting to push the limits; you knew how to please yourself from clit stimulation alone.

"I'm about to change that." Eddie replaced your hand with his mouth, and you cried out in pleasure. This new feeling of something hot and wet consuming your pussy made your eyes involuntarily roll back into your head.

"Yes, good girl, let me hear you." He latched his mouth back onto your clit. His tongue circled and flicked your swollen bud until you were on the edge. You were so close, then his finger slowly entered you, and that took on a whole new feeling. His fingers were longer and wider than your own. He stretched and reached further than you have ever experienced.

"Holy shit!" You cried as his fingers pushed deep inside you. Eddie was careful to go slowly. His middle finger pumped in and out of you before he added another. As his finger worked inside of you, you felt a wave of pleasure from a spot you hadn't ever felt before. It made you cry out embarrassingly loud.

"Ohhhh, good job babygirl." He chuckled smugly. Eddie knew that he had found your one spot that would make you see stars. So, he continuously grazed over it again and again.

You didn't know what was happening to you; your body was undulating under Eddie's touch. He struggled to keep your hips pinned down as he continued to devour your pussy. You couldn't think; you couldn't form words. Your brain had gone into a cloudy haze that focused only on your body and how Eddie was making you feel.

No wonder everyone raved about sex.

"Eddie, Eddie, Eddie" You didn't even know you were talking.

“That’s it, baby, say my name.”

"Eddie!" Your body clenched, and every muscle in your contract as your orgasm ripped through you. Waves of pleasure pulsed as Eddie's mouth and fingers continued to massage your pussy.

"Mmmm, that's my girl. You did so good for me." Eddie praised, and your stomach did another flip-flop at his words.

"You think you want to keep going? Or do you want to stop? You don't need to worry about me. This is all about you, Pip. Okay?"

"I want to keep going." Your voice sounded breathy, like it wasn't coming from you.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Eddie, I want you to fuck me. Please," you squirmed.

"God, I love hearing those words from your mouth." Eddie bent down to kiss you once again.

.As he kissed you, his mouth had a tangy and slightly salty taste. He explored your mouth with his tongue, just as he had moments before with your lower lips.

"I'm going to go get a condom, okay?" He whispered again to you.

"Okay," you bit your lip with anticipation.

You watched as Eddie shuffled on his knees off the bed to his nightstand and grabbed a blue cardboard box out of his stuffed drawer. He pulled out the foil packet and pulled down his pants and boxers. Your eyes bludged at the sight of Eddie's cock. Sure, you knew what a penis looked like. However, this was your first time seeing one in real life.

"No need to be scared, Pip." Eddie gave a reassuring smile.

"Okay, Eddie," You whispered.

"You can touch me if you want?" He walked over to the bed, cock at full mast. You slowly nod your head and reach out to feel it. Obviously, it felt hard, but you were surprised by the soft skin that felt like velvet.

Eddie made a whimpering sound as your delicate fingers grazed the red tip. You jerked back your hand, afraid you'd hurt him.

"No, no, Pip," Eddie stutterd. "You're okay; it just felt really good s'all."

"Oh," you blushed. Amazed at yourself that you made him feel really good.

"Shit, okay, I'm going to put the condom on now, okay?"

"Okay," you repeated like a parrot.

"Can you lay back for me?" Eddie crawled back up on the bed and over you once more.

You popped back down, and Eddie giggled at your eagerness. He wanted to make this perfect for you, but in your mind he already had. He wanted it to be the least painful he could make it. Hopefully, your orgasm will have helped with that.

"This may hurt a little, but I'm going to go slow, and if you need me to stop or pull out, you tell me, okay?" Eddie's face had never been so serious.

You nod your head.

"No, Pip. I need your words. I need you to tell me you understand. It's important."

Oh.

"I'll let you know if I need to stop. I promise."

"Good girl."

You sucked in a breath and bit your lip at his words. Eddie took a mental note about your reaction. He would tuck it away and save it for later.

"You're already wet enough, I think. I'm going to try and put it in now okay?" Eddie kissed you tenderly and you replied.

The feeling was odd. You felt like you were being split open as your walls burned from being stretched the furthest they have ever been.

"Oh god," Your face scratched as Eddie went in deeper.

"You okay? I can stop"

"No, I can do this. Just stay there a minute." Your body needed time to adjust.

"It's okay," Eddie cooed. He peppered your cheeks with small kisses as he waited for further instructions.

"Okay, I think I'm okay." Your vagina was still tight, but it wasn't as bad as a few minutes ago.

Eddie made sure to be as gentle as possible. Even though it was killing him to not just ram into you repeatedly. Your soft, warm walls were squeezing him so good, too good.

Eventually, after what felt like an hour, Eddie finally reached the hilt. You never felt so full. The feeling was strange yet exciting.

"I'm going to move now, okay?"

He was so patient and kind; you never imagined your first time to be so guided and full of communication. You thought it would just be like boom, stick it in and start. But, no. Not with Eddie.

As Eddie started to rock his hips, the burning started to ease into pleasure. Your hips started moving and rocking with Eddie's body, and you worked together to feel pleasure. Your instincts took over as your thoughts started to numb.

"That's it, baby, fuck, you're making me feel so good." Eddie praised.

"Mmmmm," Was all you managed to get out.

Eddie took that as a sign he could go faster. Thank god he did because the moans that came from you were sinful.

"Yes, baby, be as loud as you want," Eddie commanded before latching his mouth back on the sweet spot he found earlier.

A high-pitched ""Uhhhhhnhhhh" left your mouth as you became more and more cockdrunk by the second. His thick long cock was grazing your walls, finding your g spot that he had reached earlier in the night. Making you yell out his name.

"That's it, baby girl; tell me, who owns this pussy?" Eddie gritted through his teeth, and his pulsing cock pounded into you.

"W-what?"

"Sorry, shit, sorry I got carried away." Eddie kept his rhythm as he forgot that this was your first sexual experience. He couldn't wait to teach you about all his little desires. "you're doing so good for me."

"o-okay"

Your nails lightly scratch up Eddie's back, making him shiver. You then run back down and grab onto his ass. You hugged him like a koala bear, refusing to have this feeling he was giving you to go away. You were so blissed out by it all.

"God baby, I don't think I can hold out much longer," Eddie puffed. His hips never break the rhythm he set.

"Please," you didn't know what you were begging for? You just need him.

"I got you, baby girl; you're being so good for me" Eddie felt your pussy clench down at his words of praise.

"Come on, baby; I know you can give me one more," His hand slipped between you two and found your clit once again. You were so overstimulated that with just a few mild touches, you were falling apart, beneath Eddie.

"Oh fuck, you're squeezing me so good" Eddie tried to hold off, to keep going, to keep fucking you, but he couldn't. Your pussy was so tight around his cock he emptied himself into the condom that was buried inside of you.

Your head felt like it was spinning; your body was limp and racing with those feel-good hormones.

"I'll be right back." He kissed your cheek before getting up off of you after he caught his breath, got rid of the condom and cleaned himself up before returning with a wet cloth for you. But when he returned to the bedroom, you were fast asleep.

He laid the damp cloth on the back of his desk chair and brought the covers back up over the both of you before pulling you into his chest to cuddle you until he fell asleep.

The next morning the snow had finally stopped, and the bright sunlight had peaked its way through the slits of the cheap blinds that hung in the window.

Eddie heard footsteps outside the bedroom door in his hazy, half-asleep state. He peeked in an eye to see you sprawled out comfortably in his bed. He lifted covers to see your still naked body that he didn't really get to see last night due to the pitch black. He could see the marks he had made more clearly as they had gotten darker within the night.

He couldn't help himself. Here you were naked, sleeping with him in his bed; he just had to touch you. He kissed up the side of your exposed neck, marking the other side that had been left untouched. You moaned and squirmed, then giggled when Eddie's hair tickled you.

The reality of where you were hit the second you awoke.

"Oh, Eddie," You softly moaned.

"Good morning, baby," Eddie rolled on top of you, his morning wood more hormonal than ever.

" 'Morning," you smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear before Eddie nuzzled his head behind the small of your neck.

"So I was hopin' that you'd want to go out with me, officially... or whatever?" He cleared his throat. His morning voice was so sexy.

"Or whatever?" you smiled back up at him.

"Or wha-"

"Hey, Ed's, I'm finally back-Holy hell!-" Suddenly, Uncle Wayne was walking into the bedroom, and you were screaming, trying to cover yourself, and Eddie was trying to cover as much of you as he could.

Wayne was mortified as he shut the door behind him as quickly as possible.

"Put a sock on the door next time you have company, Kid!" Wayne shouted, flustered as ever.

Eddie barked out a laugh, and you couldn't be more embarrassed.

"Oh my god, I can't go out there? Do you think I can fit through the window?" You asked Eddie before covering your face with your hands.

"Come on, Pip. I'm sure he didn't see anything; probably only saw my pasty ass." He got up and pulled you along with him.

He found your folded clothes on the chair where you had left them, but when you went to put on your underwear, they were nowhere to be found.

You got dressed without them, and Eddie pulled you out of his room hand in hand to Face Wayne.

"So I guess it was your car all covered in snow." Wayne shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he sat at the kitchen table with a cup of black coffee. "There uh- coffee for the both of ya's if you want." He offered.

"Thanks." You tugged at your sleeve, not knowing what to do. Should you leave? Should you stay? Can you leave? The show was up to your knees.

"Better make yourself comfortable; the plows will take a while to get to this side of town." Wayne made the decision for you. Eddie guided you to the kitchen table and pulled out a seat for you.

"Wayne, you remember Pippin, don't you?" Eddie smiled brightly as he got you two mugs.

"Of course I do." He smiled genuinely this time. The awkwardness was lifting.

Eddie didn't need to ask how you took your coffee. He remembered two creams and two sugar. He once said it was too sweet, just like you.

"Thanks," you smile up at him as he places your coffee before you.

"I was wondering when the two of you would finally get together... Ever since high school, I've been bugging this one," He motions to Eddie, " To get his head out of his ass and to lock you down already."

"Took him long enough, you giggle"

"Now I know you two are adults, but I don't need no little munson babies running around here just yet, so you better be safe-"

"Okay, okay, Old man, we get it. We have already had this uncomfortable talk once when I was fifteen. I don't need it again."

"Fifteen?!" your eyes blog you're off your head.

"What can I say? The ladies love them some, Eddie." he smiled cockily.

You lightly pinch Eddie's arm, so he shuts up.

"Hey!" Eddie rubbed his bicep.

I knew I always liked you." Wayne tipped up his mug to you with a smile. "keep him in line."

[womanofwords]

The Identity Of Batman

A spinoff of Everybody's Favourite.

You wore your shades for the paparazzi. Not for their benefit, but because the flashing lights they travelled with hurt your eyes. "Miss Cobblepot, any thoughts about Bruce Wayne being Batman?" a reporter asked.

"Thoughts of revulsion, dear man," you said. "The idea makes my stomach not just turn, but do an entire gymnastics routine."

The paparazzi laughed. You were the very definition of a media darling. "We mean if you have anything to say about it. Any specific words?" Summer Gleeson took over, proffering a microphone.

"Ah, thank you, Summer. Honestly, I don't believe a word of it. My biological father could never be Batman."

"Why not?"

"Well, let's just look at what we know about Batman. He's the world's greatest detective, often working alongside Commissioner Gordon with a horde of younger vigilantes that orbit around him. Nothing gets past the Bat. If Bruce Wayne was Batman, he would have noticed that I was missing long before two weeks had passed."

"You bring up a good point," Summer admitted.

You had more to say. "Furthermore, Bruce Wayne can't handle weaponry and has difficulty with names, while Batman has an arsenal of weapons and a literal rogues' gallery. It's ridiculous. Bruce Wayne's only real weapon is his money."

"That's awfully astute of you, Y/N." Summer was inwardly squealing with glee; you were a gold mine. "Do you have any other thoughts on who Batman is, if it can't be Bruce Wayne?"

You smiled. "Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne's butler."

The crowd erupted. Some laughed, some gasped, more questions were screamed at you. "Why Alfred Pennyworth?" Summer asked.

"Alfred Pennyworth handled everything in the Wayne home. He remembered every birthday, every like and dislike. He looked after everybody and never missed a trick. And on the day that I was kidnapped, he was in his native England, visiting family. It explains why he didn't respond for two weeks. I always thought of Alfred as my own Batman."

"That's very sweet, Y/N, but Alfred Pennyworth cannot possibly be Batman. Batman and Alfred were seen in the same place at the same time on multiple occasions."

"Ah, so he's ruled out. But then again, if Bruce is a potential candidate, anyone is." You laughed, and everyone else did, too. "Truth be told, Bruce Wayne is not a genius crime-fighting vigilante. Bruce Wayne is a rich idiot with no business being a parent, far too much money, and not enough condoms. That will be all."

You retreated back into the manor, groaning as you removed your shades. Being that adorable and iconic is exhausting, but someone has to do it.

*_*_*_*_*_

Meanwhile, over at the Wayne manor, your siblings were cradling the TV as if you would pop out of it and take them back. "I'm not Batman," Bruce said, eyes wide and voice soft.

"Baba, Y/N is helping us. She's taking suspicion away from us." Damian's eyes were hopeful. "Maybe she'll come back to us."

"She won't," Dick sniffled. "She won't come back. She's gone, and I can't be her big brother any more."

"None of us can. Stop making it about you," Duke groused.

I want her back, Cass signed.

"We all do, Cass," Tim said. He was cyber-stalking you again, looking at all the comments saying Bruce Wayne could never be Batman. This was supposed to be good, and yet it felt so sickening. "We all want Y/N back. But she's gone. Cobblepot's got her."

"I know," Bruce said. He held onto a video tape of you winning the ninth-grade science fair, wishing it was you and kicking himself for not having been there. "Cobblepot's got her now."

Taglist: @tinybrie, @enchantingarcadecreation, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @sh4rk-k1d, @prorpy, @angelicbear, @sulleha, @sirenetheblogger, @omgfangirlland, @heather-hutchcroft, @wannaflyaway, @jaybunsblog, @sugarrush-blush, @redkarmakai, @asillysimp, @type-ink, @jellyedkazoo, @lonely-nerd-sodaholic.

[hai7ani]

also applies to Chifuyu & Shinichiro.......i think

It's late but I can't seem to think about anything other than the boyfriends who smell a lot like you. I think this applies very well to Rindou like. You're just together so often. His friends have already registered the smell as his own, and even though he sprays on his cologne before he leaves he still manages to smell like you for the rest of the day somehow.

A few have asked what his cologne or perfume is and he says the brand and then they go and compare it in-store but it legit smells nothing like him at all. Around his circle of friends he is notoriously known as the perfume gatekeeper and he doesn't understand it at all 一 has no clue what the big deal is around his perfume, because that's literally the brand he uses, what the hell more do you want from him? Not his fault the in-store oxidised-or-whatever samples don't smell like him. (He literally doesn't smell you on him because he's so used to it already. Like cat owners not knowing how their home smells like to a stranger. Yeah. You're the cat and he's the owner in this case.)

His friends can't quite place and recognise what exactly the smell is 一 especially the people he just met, and it always surprises them a little somehow during first impressions. It's just not very........common for a guy to smell like this. Especially not for a guy who looks like him 一 tall, tatted up, and eyes so fierce it could possibly kill 一 to smell a lot like flowers and bedsheets. The kinda scent that makes you feel at ease and you just want to fall asleep. A comforting one.

And I think that kind of explains why the elderly love speaking to him. Young kids like going up to him for help. The ladies holding their babies likes asking him to help with their stroller. All of that happens regularly despite the tattoos and chunky rings and dyed hair. He often wonders what the hell's so alluring about him that always attracts all these people in public especially when he's alone, but he does find himself doing kind, mundane things for them way too frequently. Not a single complaint on his mind, but just a thought. His girlfriend is usually the magnet attracting people all the time 一 he's more of the dog you'd walk when alone at night. But honestly it's just really his distinct smell from the rest that immediately makes him a safe zone to approach, but he doesn't know that of course.

Shion was over at his place one time to hide from the rain after dinner and he wasn't aware that anyone was home other than him and Rindou alone. The familiar scent of his friend suddenly lingers around in the air and he's quick to ask. "Yo, you got any beer in your fridge? I'm kinda thirsty." He doesn't look up from his phone the entire time 一 they're best buddies, he's been over a few times, and he just really wants something to drink.

A while later, a can of ice cold beer appears in his view next to his device and he grabs it swiftly. "Thanks."

And then he sees long nails and bracelets and fingers a lot more nimbler than his friend's一

Suddenly the smell of fresh flowers 一 something pretty famous from Armani, he recalls 一 floods his nostrils all at once and his brain short circuits. His friend fucking smells like you 一 your scent is just a lot more stronger and distinguishable.

"You're welcome." You have a nice smile on your face while he looks up in horror. "He's in the toilet by the way." You point to the door behind you.

"Oh. My bad."

[naamahdarling]

I'm probably going to piss some people off with this, but.

The use of AI and machine learning for harmful purposes is absolutely unacceptable.

But that isn't an innate part of what it does.

Apps or sites using AI to generate playlists or reading lists or a list of recipes based on a prompt you enter: absolutely fantastic, super helpful, so many new things to enjoy, takes jobs from no-one.

Apps or sites that use a biased algorithm (which is AI) which is not controllable by users or able to be turned off by them, to push some content and suppress others to maximize engagement and create compulsive behavior in users: unethical, bad, capitalism issue, human issue.

People employing genAI to create images for personal, non-profit use and amusement who would not have paid someone for the same service: neutral, (potential copyright and ethics issue if used for profit, which would be a human issue).

People incorporating genAI as part of their artistic process, where the medium of genAI is itself is a deliberate part of the artist's technique: valid, interesting.

Companies employing genAI to do the work of a graphic designer, and websites using genAI to replace the cost of stock photos: bad, shitty, no, capitalist and ethical human issue.

People attacking small artists who use it with death threats and unbelievable vitriol: bad, don't do that.

AI used for spell check and grammar assistance: really great.

AI employed by eBay sellers to cut down on the time it takes to make listings: good, very helpful, but might be a bad idea as it does make mistakes and that can cost them money, which would be a technical issue.

AI used to generate fake product photos: deceptive, lazy, bad, human ethical issue.

AI used to identify plagiarism: neutral; could be really helpful but the parameters are defined by unrealistic standards and not interrogated by those who employ it. Human ethical issue.

AI used to analyze data and draw up complex models allowing detection of things like cancer cells: good; humans doing this work take much longer, this gives results much faster and allows faster intervention, saving lives.

AI used to audit medical or criminal records and gatekeep coverage or profile people: straight-up evil. Societal issue, human ethical issue.

AI used to organize and classify your photos so you don't have to spend all that time doing it: helpful, good.

AI used to profile people or surveil people: bad and wrong. Societal issue, human issue, ethical issue.

I'm not going to cover the astonishingly bad misinformation that has been thrown out there about genAI, or break down thought distortions, or go into the dark side of copyright law, or dive into exactly how it uses the data it is fed to produce a result, or explain how it does have many valid uses in the arts if you have any imagination and curiosity, and I'm not holding anyone's hand and trying to walk them out of all the ableism and regurgitated capitalist arguments and the glorification of labor and suffering.

I just want to point out: you use machine learning (AI) all the time, you benefit from it all the time. You could probably identify many more examples that you use every day. Knee-jerk panicked hate reflects ignorance, not sound principles.

You don't have beef with AI, you have beef with human beings, how they train it, and how they use it. You have beef with capitalism and thoughtlessness. And so do I. I will ruthlessly mock or decry misuse or bad use of it. But there is literally nothing inherently bad in the technology.

I am aware of and hate its misuse just as much as you do. Possibly more, considering that I am aware of some pretty heinous ways it's being used that a lot of people are not. (APPRISS, which is with zero competition for the title the most evil use of machine learning I have ever seen, and which is probably being used on you right now.)

You need to stop and actually think about why people do bad things with it instead of falling for the red herring and going after the technology (as well as the weakest human target you can find) every time you see those two letters together.

You cannot protect yourself and other people against its misuse if you cannot separate that misuse against its neutral or helpful uses, or if you cannot even identify what AI and machine learning are.

[hisbelfastboy]

just kill me it would literally hurt less than this 😭😭 - @eoinmcgonigall

No but listen, I've been thinking about Paddy and his relation to touch non-stop for days and now you've given me the perfect excuse to talk about it? I love you <3 (Tags were from this post)

One thing that struck me most with Paddy/Eoin is how often Eoin reaches out for Paddy (ie. lightly tapping his shin when Eoin gets back to their tent) but most importantly, Eoin ALWAYS squeezes before withdrawing the contact, almost like he's preparing himself, or Paddy, or both, to lose this connection. But also, I'm a firm believer that Eoin was as much in love with Paddy as Paddy was with him, and that was his own little indulgence (and what a rush it must give him, being the only one allowed to touch Paddy in a way that isn't a punch or marked by violence). And the touch is always so tender, lingering, this is (to me) Eoin threading the line between what's acceptable between two best friends and what raises eyebrows. He always drags the touch a little longer, always touches Paddy even if the situation doesn't call for it.

On the other hand, Paddy touches Eoin almost only when there's an 'excuse' for it, like steadying himself on Eoin shoulder to play the piano while standing (gif 1). The one time the situation doesn't call for touch but Paddy touches Eoin anyway is in prison (gif 2), and it's such an awkward little pat, almost like Paddy knows he doesn't have an excuse to hide behind beyond wanting to touch Eoin and is trying so hard not to reach for more (and!! he drags his palm over Eoin's hand as he takes his hand away!! Repressed Paddy, I love you so)

But back to the way Paddy reacts to Eoin's touch; he never outwardly reacts to it. In fact, he never (except for the jail scene) watches Eoin i those scenes, always keeping his eyes in front of him and carrying on whatever he was doing. In the plane, before the jump, that can be explained; he's focused (gif 2). But in the scene where he's eating soup (gif 3), I can't help but feel like he's making a point not to look at Eoin as the touch is made, almost like when someone who doesn't usually give physical affection lays their head on your shoulder and you stay still so you don't bring attention to it and they withdraw. Now, Eoin is rather free in his affections with Paddy, so my theory is that Paddy makes a point not to bring attention to the touches so Eoin doesn't withdraw, but Paddy is soaking in every touch. Maybe this is their silent understanding, that they're Friends but friends don't usually touch like that but They do, because they're Paddy&Eoin. Maybe he's come to associate Eoin with these friendly, if lingering touches. A beacon of affection when the only other people who ever touch Paddy are the people he's fighting/boxing with/MPs arresting him

Anyway to me, this purports my hc that both Paddy and Eoin were in love with each other but neither of them dared to confess. I think Eoin was comfortable/aware of his feelings, but he wasn't sure how that was with Paddy so, not wanting to push Paddy, he was happy to indulge in those touches, making them linger because if that's all he was going to get, he was going to make the most of it. On the other hand, Paddy strikes me more as repressed - not so much in being gay (see the poem he recites in his first jail scene + the signet ring) but in his feelings for Eoin, only finding the strength to confront them once Eoin's gone, because what is there left of Eoin if not the love Paddy has for him? (These are all personal hc, of course, I'm not preaching lmao)

Which brings me to my point: the last time Paddy touches Eoin is when Eoin can't feel it anymore. The only time Paddy finds the courage to hold Eoin's hand is when Eoin is no longer alive to return the hold. And, if memory serves, that's the last time anyone touches Paddy in season 1 (though I could be wrong, it is the last time there is any close-up on touch and Paddy, except for the fighting in the sand scene with Augustin). But Paddy is definitely isolated once Eoin dies - by choice, as shown by the fact that his tent is outside the main camp of Jalo.

* and ** For some reason, the technique I used to properly link specific gifs from a gifset stopped working midway despite the different links BUT gif 2 is from the same gifset as gif 1, and gif 4 is by @loo-nuh-tik in this gifset. If anyone knows why tumblr only showed the first gif of the gifset despite manually putting the link to another one and tumblr showing the new link but not a different gif, please do tell me so I can properly credit the OP

Now season 2; as far as I recall, there are only three persons who dare to reach out and touch Paddy in non-fighting situations, Bill Stirling (gif 1 and 2*), Jim Almonds (gif 3) and Eve (gif 4**) (excluding the barber and Montgomery fixing his beret, even if in that one it was Paddy was Not Comfortable). All three times (although honorable mentions to every time Bill Stirling pats Paddy's shoulder/back, even if it's quick, it's ALWAYS deliberate), Paddy freezes for a millisecond, looking slowly down at the touch like he's trying to make sense of it, if he should allow it, what the touch means, and how long has nobody laid a hand on him without wanting to hurt him? Should he shake it off?

Let's remember that season 2 starts in 1943, almost a year and a half after Eoin's death. That's a LONG time to go without any meaningful touch; Paddy is someone who likes his personal space, who's uncomfortable when people reach into his space (you know how sometimes, if someone touches you it makes you tense up because they aren't some of the Special People you've mentally allowed to touch you?) but he ALWAYS let Eoin into his space. And then, there was no more Eoin, and few people daring to reach out (and the few who do are people who genuinely care about Paddy). And even during his home leave, he did not go see his mother, did not hug her or his siblings, even though it could have been the first time he saw them since at least 1941, and since his father's death (do you ever think about how he had no one to comfort him, to hold his hand and give him a hug when his dad, whom he clearly loved, died? I do and it's not fun).

Anyway, my heart breaks for him

[cryptidghostgirl]

Can I ask for a similar scenarios for Unrequited (Alastor x reader). It could be a part 2 technically ♥️♥️

Reader defending Husk from Alastor when he threatens him in ep 5?? Breaking their already destroyed friendship even more. I NEED ANGST IN MY LIFE

A/N uh,, of course??? i love this idea??? I... I'm obsessed. I'm literally so excited to write this. I hope you like whatever I come up with. If you requested something I will get it out in the next couple days!! I'm trying to be quick.

Unrequited Pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Angst and an unhealthy as fuck relationship. Pining. Non-mutual pining.

Word Count: 2,681 (The way this is like twice as long as part one. I got excited. Sorry guys.)

Part One: Unrequited (Alastor x Reader)

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

"So, once we have the proof that redemption is possible," Charlie was explaining to her father as they walked through the halls of the hotel, Vaggie and Alastor trailing behind the pair, "this whole hotel will be full of demons wanting to check out into Heaven. We just need a little more time to prove it. The sharing circles haven't been working as fast as I hoped-"

"Hey, Boss. Can we have a word?" Husk cut in.

Alastor stopped in his tracks, an eyebrow raised. Placing an arm behind his back, he turned to face the cat demon in irritation.

"What is it?" Alastor asked, his narrowed eyes the only thing about his face which displayed his true emotions.

Alastor's gaze softened slightly as he realized Y/n was standing beside Husk. She grabbed her left arm with her right, rubbing it in obvious discomfort as she looked away from Alastor and Husk, examining the walls with determination.

"Listen, we all know Mimzy only shows up when she needs somethin'." Husk sighed after a moment, realizing he wasn't going to be getting anything but moral support from his anxious and angry companion, "That bitch is trouble, and who knows what kinda demon she fucked with to come running to you this time?"

Alastor took a step forward, watching the two demon's carefully. Irritation ticked at the back of his head like a countdown for a bomb. He had to be careful. There was already so much wrong between Y/n and himself, he had no desire to make any of it worse. Alastor, as much as he hated it, knew she was close with Husk, cared for him even. He tried his best to remain calm.

"It's nothing I can't handle. Don't worry, Husker." Alastor turned away, moving to head back down the hallway after the rest of the tour, "Who in their right mind would cross me?"

Y/n looked over at her companion, feeling a shift in the air beside her. He had is fists clenched, his brow furrowed. Gently, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

Husk turned, meeting Y/n's eyes. She gave him a pointed look, one that reminded him who he was talking to. One that asked him to be careful. Husk took a deep breath and unclenched his muscles. Y/n's hand fell back to her side.

"I mean..." Husk tried to chose his words carefully. He was honestly worried about the whole Mimzy situation and wasn't going to give it up, "you've been gone a while and it's not like anyone knows why."

Alastor stilled, turning his head slightly to the side. He watched Husk carefully over his shoulder as he replied.

"They don't need to know." Alastor turned to face Husk fully now, leaning towards him with a finger in the air, "And don't you worry your fuzzy head about it."

Husk growled, pushing Alastor's hand from his head as the Radio Demon tried to scratch his ears.

"You may own my soul, but I ain't your fucking pet!" he snapped, poking Alastor harshly in the chest.

"But you are!" Alastor laughed, straightening himself.

Husk was trembling with anger now, unable to hold himself back. Alastor turned again, once more making to rejoin the group he had left and Husk watched him through narrowed eyes.

Y/n nudged Husk's foot lightly with the tip of her boot in an effort to remind him to keep his cool, but Husk brushed it off entirely. He stepped forward, out of her reach.

"Big talk for someone who's also on a leash."

Y/n sighed. Alastor stopped walking. The lights flickered out in the hall for a moment.

"Aha, what did you say?"

Alastor barley turned to look at them as he spoke. It was enough that Y/n caught the dials in his eyes, a sign he was truly and genuinely angry.

"Oh fuck." she mumbled under her breath as Husk began to back away.

"Nothing." he insisted, "I, um-"

Husk excuses were cut short as the all too familiar green chain and collar formed in the air around him. Alastor, his back still to Husk, tugged the chain. The cat demon fell to the floor, his eyes wide and wild with fear.

"If you ever say that again," Alastor threatened, his back still to Husk as he began to wrap his end of the chain around his microphone, pulling it taught, "I will tear your soul apart and broadcast your screams..."

There was a resistance in the chain. Alastor stopped speaking and turned around, his rage growing by the second. He opened his mouth to yell, he felt his demon form aching to come out. Everything stopped when he realized what was actually happening.

Alastor had assumed Husk had found something to hold on to, that he was fighting back. Alastor had been wrong. Instead, in the space between the two demons stood Y/n. She had her hands wrapped tightly around the green chain and was using all her weight to pull it back towards Husk. Alastor's mouth fell slightly open, his brow furrowed. He hadn't known someone not involved in a deal could touch the chains.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Y/n yelled, yanking the chain harshly towards her.

The movement caught Alastor off guard. He stumbled forward a few steps before catching his balance.

"Nothing is wrong with me, dearest." he cordially replied, quickly regaining his composure, "I'm simply reminding our favorite Husker where his place is in the world."

As Alastor spoke, he switched his menacing gaze back to Husk who was trembling on the floor behind Y/n.

"You're a dick!" Y/n exclaimed, trying to pull Alastor towards her again with the chain.

This time, he was ready for it and stood his ground as Y/n continued to speak.

"He was genuinely worried about you, you know? I didn't want to ask about this Mimzy shit, I wanted to watch you fucking fail for once but Husk? He was worried. He cared about you, and what do you do?"

Y/n exhaled sharply, shaking her head. Alastor watched in awe. This was the biggest reaction he'd gotten out of the girl in years. He had no idea how to react. It was oddly heartbreaking, oddly exhilarating.

"I just... god, I can't believe I ever trusted you."

The chain disappeared in Alastor's shock. Y/n regarded him carefully for a moment before she decided not to waste time and turned to Husk. Crouching down before him, she slowly helped her friend to his feet. Allowing him to balance on her, Y/n began to lead the still trembling Husk down the hallway back to the lobby.

Husk couldn't help but notice, Y/n's hands were far from still either. He looked over at her: brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, a tight frown on her lips. Husk opened his mouth to speak, to thank her, to ask if she was okay but before he could say a word, Alastor spoke again.

"Y/n, I'd like a word with you."

She stilled and so did Husk. This time, it was her turn to keep her back towards Alastor, rather than him keeping his to them. If she had learned anything from Alastor over the years, it was how power worked. Right now, she had the slightest bit of an upper hand unless he decided to use the chain of her own deal. Y/n wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

"Why?" she asked harshly after a moment.

Husk raised his eyebrows, reiterating the unspoken warning he'd ignored from her just a few moments before.

"Please."

Now that was unexpected. Y/n sighed, turning to Husk.

"You okay to go down on your own?"

"Yeah." Husk nodded, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

Y/n took his arm from her shoulder. Had it been anyone else, Husk would have been embarrassed, would have never accepted the help in the first place. This was Y/n, this was different. If anyone understood, she did.

"You gonna be okay, kid?" Husk asked in a hushed voice as she squared her shoulders, turning to face Alastor.

"Yeah." she hummed softly in return, "Always am, aren't I?"

Y/n took a handful of long, confident strides that landed her in front of Alastor once again. She stood tall and confident before him as he smiled menacingly down at her. Husk stood, watching them for a moment before Alastor looked over at him.

"Run along now, Husker." he playfully called to the reluctant cat demon, "I won't keep your soldier long."

Husk made no reply or move to leave until Y/n turned her head to the side, sending him a careful look over her shoulder.

"It's all good. I promise."

Husk nodded hesitently before at last turning around and heading back to the lobby. Y/n and Alastor watched one another carefully, niether saying a word until Husk was fully out of ear shot.

"What did you want to see me about?" Y/n asked coldly, crossing her arms, ready to be punished and not the least bit regretful of what she had done.

"I simply wanted to apologize." Alastor hummed, everything suddenly feeling a lot closer to normal.

Y/n's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"For what?" she asked after a moment, when it became clear Alastor would explain nothing without her prompting.

"That you had to witness that."

"I-" Y/n cut herself off with a sigh, shaking her head slightly, "Jesus fuck, Al."

"Language." he warned and Y/n just glared at him. He changed his tactic. "What ever is the matter, my dear?"

"You are just... why are you apologizing to me?" Y/n demanded, frustration seeping into her voice like sweet sticky honey that caught on everything, "Go apologize to Husk. As I already said, I was hoping this... Mimzy thing... would let me see you fail. He just wanted to help you, and look where that got him."

Alastor's perpetual smile softened slightly around it's edges.

"Why are you so set on watching me fail?" he asked after a a few tense seconds.

Y/n let out a rueful laugh, letting her arms fall from around her chest and settling her hands on her hips.

"Because gosh, wouldn't it just be lovely?" she grinned back at him.

"What?"

"If you got a taste of your own medicine." she taunted, "Caring about someone, trusting them with everything you have, only to have that very thing be the weapon they hold against you in the end."

Of course, it all came back to that. Alastor couldn't blame her.

"Y/n, I don't know how many times I have to say it for you to believe me, but I really did not intend for things to turn out this way." Alastor sighed.

Seven years since he'd seen her and it only took them what, four/five months to come back to this conversation? A new record.

"It doesn't matter how you intended for them to be, it's how they are."

She spun on her heel, taking a few steps towards the lobby before coming to a stop once again.

"Sorry, I forgot." she spat, not turning to look at him, "May I go now, sir?"

"I..." Alastor cleared his throat, "Of course. I have business to attend to."

"Great."

Alastor stood in the hallway, watching Y/n as she disappeared around the corner, watching the air she had occupied. He sighed, there was nothing to be done. There had been some small hope that somehow, someway, the hotel would hope. Clearly, he had been wrong. Alastor shook his head softly in the quiet peace of the hallway.

He wanted to give up on Y/n, he knew he should but still... he just couldn't. It was like a puzzle he was missing a piece of, a game he hadn't quite figured out how to win. A challenge. Alastor never backed down from one of those. He never had before and he certainly wasn't going to start now.

The strange jittery feeling of determination began to feed into his chest cavity through his veins. Doubt, anger, hurt, heartbreak -- all of it was being flushed out and replaced with sheer stubbornness. Alastor couldn't help but feel if he had Y/n, then everything would be okay. That she was the answer to his problems, that if she could love him then he would finally have won. What? Not even Alastor himself could say but that wasn't going to stop him. Nothing was.

----

Y/n sat down at the bar with a sigh as Husk quickly poured her a drink.

"Thank you." he awkwardly said as she downed the glass in one gulp, tapping the edge to ask for a refil.

"For what?" Y/n casually replied as he refilled her cup.

She picked it back up again, this time taking only a single small sip. She savored the second drink and Husk leaned forward on the bar.

"You know what." he rolled his eyes pointedly.

Thankfully Angel and Sir Pentions were keeping Mimzy entertained in the sitting room. None of the trio seemed to notice Husk and Y/n's return. Y/n swiveled her barstool around, leaning her back on the bar top as she watched them enjoy one another's company.

"Shit, Husk." she sighed, "You know me."

"I do." Husk nodded, straightening up and turning to place the bottle of liquor back on the shelf, "What I don't know is how you had the balls to pull something like that."

"I'm not afraid of him." Y/n shrugged, taking another little sip of her drink.

"Bullshit." Husk scoffed and Y/n turned back to him.

"I swear it, I'm not."

"How." Husk asked, eyeing her suspiciously, waiting for her to drop the act, "I felt you shaking earlier."

Y/n shook her head.

"Nah, that wasn't fear. I was just fucking pissed."

"He's the Radio Demon, he literally owns our souls, Y/n. How are you not scared of him."

Y/n's eyes fell onto the contents of her glass as she shrugged again, swirling the liquid around in the bottom of her glass.

"I..." she sighed, "I mean, you know this. I didn't know that's what was going on until..." she trailed off, clearing her throat, "We were friends, for a while actually."

"I know. I remember."

"I cared about him."

The truth hit Husk in the face like a speeding truck.

"Holy shit." he laughed in disbelief, "You like, cared cared about him, didn't you?"

Y/n's cheeks flushed the slightest bit pink. She met Husk's eyes once again.

"I think I was starting to."

"That's why your not scared of him. You loved him."

"Yeah." Y/n sighed after a moment, a sharp pain cutting through her chest like someone was cracking open her ribcage in a morgue, "I guess. Did being the operative word there of course, as in: not anymore. Not that he could ever love someone anyways even if I still did. Oh! Also, if he apologizes to you, tell me?"

"Wh..." Husk's brow furrowed in confusion at the sudden change in topic, "Why would he apologize to me, Y/n?"

"I maybe yelled at him."

"I... you're gonna get yourself killed one day."

Y/n laughed a bright, genuine laugh and Husk smiled over at her in return.

"Maybe." she smirked, leaning over the counter at him, "At least I'll have you to plan my funeral."

"Oh like I'd do that." Husk teased.

"Sure you would."

"Yeah. I'd have it at a gas station."

"Hey, rude." Y/n scoffed, "If you died, I'd throw yours at a casino or something. I'd expect the same kinda treatment on your end for me."

Husk shook his head softly, smiling. At the end of the day, he couldn't help feeling a little lucky for Alastor's deal. How else was he supposed to have met his best friend?

"Yep. Definitely gonna be at a gas station."

---

A/N I'm sorry Husk and the reader are besties and that's what this ended up being about. Yeah. Uh. Yeah.

Unrequited Pt. 3

[elssero]

/ MASKED

-elssero kintober

-ghostface!dabi x reader, college au!, loser!dabi, costume party, mentions of alcohol and drugs, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, actually really cute, dabi is insecure:. maybe a tiny bit ooc, but it's very cute.

a costume party? what a bore. there's a small itch in the back of your head- a silent plea. telling you to just go home- end the night early.

you were supposed to be studying tonight, a huge test was right around the corner and you knew you needed the extra hours looking over the content.

you couldn't help yourself when your roommate barged into your room an hour earlier begging you to join her and her friends. you deserved a break? right? you'd spend the entire day going over course work and a few hours wouldn't hurt?

rushing to get dressed and leave at the same time as her is a challenge but you refused to show up by yourself- far too nervous to even think about it.

your costume- if it could even be considered one is just a little pair of black cat ears, paired with the first matching outfit you pulled from your wardrobe.

the music in the house is far too loud for your alcohol levels- finding yourself next to an assortment of drinks layed out on a table. eventually finding your drink of choice. you turn around to talk to your roommate after what had to be only a few seconds to find her completely vanished-

great.

studying the crowds around you for a second- not finding any familiar faces you decide to make your way outside- recognising who you think to be a girl from your english class.

"oh hey!- sorry your uraraka right?" your silently hoping that she accepts your attempt at conversation seeing as you can't find anyone you actually know.

"uh yes i am?" she looks at you puzzled for a minute and you internally curse yourself for expecting her to recognise you-

"oh wait i know you! you sit behind me in english right? yn?" oh thank god.

"yes that's me! i'm sorry for barging into your conversation like this but my roommate quite literally disappeared on me." she only smiles at you in return-and your incredibly grateful.

"no don't worry about it! uh- if anything i'm glad you ran into me! i've been meaning to talk to you about what we're doing in class right now-" she rubs her hands together as she talks- clearly a little nervous.

"i'm struggling to fully understand what the professor wants us to do with this assignment thing-but you seem to get it pretty well? i was hoping you'd maybe explain it to me?" you flash the girl infront of you a teasing grin before asking for her number-promising you'll send her a text tomorrow so you guys can find a more appropriate time to meet up and discuss your project.

"hey um- do you know that guy over there? the one in the mask?" the girl points at a man with dark hair as she eyes him up suspiciously. "he's like- totally staring right at you- it's actually kind of creepy.."

you follow her line of sight and your immediately uneasy- his costume seems to be put together at the last minute, much like your own. but to say the vibe he gives off matches the mask would be an understatement.

despite his eyes being completely covered- his stare sends shivers up your spine. "uh- i'm not sure?"

"it doesn't look like you have much time to figure it out- he's heading this way." okay- this is fine. it's probably just some frat guy trying to be creepy.

uraraka doesn't stay by your side to figure it out- she leaves with a wink and a hushed good luck and by the time you turn around your face to face with the masked stranger.

"uh- hello there?" you try not to sound as nervous as you feel it's hard with the way he looms over you.

he seems to catch the nervousness in your voice-chuckling before he speaks- "sorry- did i scare you?"

his voice- despite the rasp is far nicer than you would've expected, the tease in his voice is evident.

"didn't mean to make you nervous- just wanted to introduce myself." you can't see the smirk on his face but you can hear it. "i'm dabi"

"i'm not nervous. just drunk- and on high alert." the he moves closer- you feel more at ease after hearing his name, certain you've heard it before.

"what'd say we head back inside- get something to drink."

a part of you wishes you'd said no- but you didn't. you allowed to him take your hand and lead you back inside. you let him fix you up some mixture of drinks that for the record tasted better than anything else you'd had to drink tonight and you'd let yourself relax- spend time with him.

the touches of your waist hadn't gone unnoticed- the way his hand lingered on yours when he passed you a cup- his arm looping around your shoulder when men approached- he seemed to like the game.

you however- we're getting sick and tired of the game. the heat pooling in your stomach was only growing with each of his little touches. enough was enough.

you grab his hand, forcing him to follow you into the first empty room you can find before you shut the door- locking it quickly behind you.

"woah pretty- what's going on? you okay?" you can't tell if the concern in his voice is false or not- but the way his hands grip your waist indicates he has ulterior motives.

your not the kind of person- you don't have one night stands- especially not with strangers, strangers whose faces you haven't even seen.

but with dabi it feels different- almost as though you can't help it, not with the heat growing in your core.

finding it difficult to find the words- instead opting to run your hands along his arms- hooking them together around his neck.

"what're you doing?" there's a laugh- a joke in his voice that completely contrasts with your seriousness-

"do you want me?"

it seems to stop his movements- the small circles he was tracing on your waist come to a hold and for a second you think you've got the wrong idea- "are you crazy?" he lets out a chuckle "of course i fucking want you"

"then what's taking you so long" it's said with newly found confidence.

"you haven't even seen my face?" some may take this as judgement- but you can tell there's more to it-something hidden. "¡ don't care" those three simple words seems to shock him.

"how?- how can you not care?" it's weird how within the hours that you've spent with the man you haven't felt the need to see what he looks like- it just feels right. "what you look like doesn't matter- jus' want you"

"fuck- baby are you sure?" his voice is strained- laced with a mix of hope and confusion. his hands begin to dig into your waist.

"yes- yes i'm sure" pulling him towards you by his neck- bringing him closer "need you- please-"

"okay- okay baby i got you-" he feels insane- crazy. to have somehow ended up so close to you, with your hands around his neck.

he'd been holding back- of course he has. he'd wanted you for as long as he can remember-you'd never know of course, that he'd had a silly crush on you for weeks.

you hike your clothes away from your lower half-exposing yourself, he has to take a second to double check he's still breathing before he shoves your underwear to the side-

he runs a finger across your slit- the dampness evident "fuck- baby your soaked." his pace is slow-

"your such a tease- been doing it all night" he lets out a chuckle at this "m'sorry- c'mere let me make it up to you-" before he slides a finger in before adding another. "oh-fuck" he slides his fingers in and out, keeping a steady pace "gotta prep you- gotta have you cum on my fingers first-"

he changes the angle slightly- fingers hitting a different spot "oh-oh" he takes notice of your reaction- increasing his pace "you like that?" you can't answer him as well as you'd like- he takes the increasing volume of your moans as a yes- "you gonna cum on my fingers pretty?"

it seems that the "yeah- just like that- let it go" you feel it coming- a release in your stomach before it happens- your cumming "dabi- fuck!"

he halts- seemingly staring at you as your mouth drops- listening to your moans as they leave your mouth-"you think you can go again?" there's an eagerness in his voice- one you can't refuse "yeah-yeah i wanna go again"

you grap at him- hand running over his bulge- not being able to waste a second before you take it out-trying not to seem shocked at the size. "wanna feel you-"

you go to take him in your hand before his is around your wrist- halting your movements "shit- baby don't talk like that"

"please- want it" and he groans- a low, deep sound.

"and i wanna last more than ten seconds-" he says it breathlessly- barely touched and he's already losing his mind.

he aligns himself- tip hitting your folds and you hear another deep moan from behind the mask."oh fuck-baby"

it's weird how intimate it is when he slips into you-moans mixing together with ease- your head falling back as he bottoms out.

"fuck- oh god." he moves against you without rhythm- instead it's desperate, rushed. "you f-feel so good"

it's unpracticed- but god does it feel good, it's like he's wanted this forever- the feeling is rubbing off on you"d-don't stop-"

"feel good baby?" he sounds cocky, and you can't even blame him because it does feel good "yeah-feels good"

it doesn't take him long before he's unraveling "fuck-think i'm gonna cum" he can't be blamed- he has wanted this forever. "it's fine- i'm protected" the sentence seems to enlighten something in him- his thrusts get faster- more uncontrolled "holy shit"

"fuck are you sure?" you wouldn't normally- but something about him just feels so right, so you let him.

"fuck- you can cum in me- it's okay" it's all the confirmation he needs before he's completely lost-blinded by pleasure "fuck baby- m'cumming!"

his face falls- landing in the crook of your neck, in the mist of his pleasure he doesn't notice how his mask gets caught in your hair- tugging it away from his face- falling to the ground with a loud thud.

you don't notice it either- not until you've came down from your high. he moves his head away from your neck- a loopy smile on his face as your eyes catch his, clearly still coming down from his own high.

it's not until he notices that your jaw has dropped-eyes wide when he thinks something might be wrong- he goes to speak- to ask if your okay before you beat him to it.

"touya?"

in an instant his eyes are blown even wider than yours- he wants to move, terrified of how you'll react know that you who he really is.

"it is you! i knew i recognised your voice" he blinks at you- your voice doesn't seem laced with any sort of malice, if anything there's a touch of excitement "oh god i hope this doesn't make class awkward."

this can't be right- surely not. why do you seem so calm about this? "uh- are you okay? you seem kinda out of it?"

"what's going on?" he seems kind of lost for words."why aren't you weirded out?" his frustration and confusion only makes you giggle.

"well- i've always thought u were cute, all quiet and mysterious." you give him a smile before continuing.

"this is a win for me."

he again- doesn't reply to you, instead looks at you in shock as you tidy yourself up, drunkly giggling to yourself as you do.

"hey uh- how about we get a ride back to my place, pick up some food on the way?" he can't fathom this- how cool you seem to be, how calm.

"uh- okay? sure." he's losing his mind he thinks, fixing himself up he lets you take his hand, dragging him out of the random bathroom you'd found yourself in.

you remind silent until you've dragged him all the way out of the house, fumbling your way to street while you wait on an uber "your kinda stupid touya- a cute stupid."

he fidgets with his fingers- but he doesn't fight the smile that appears on his face. "whatever- your paying for your own food."

[fantazygirl-blog1]

So tired of everyone (or almost everyone) making Misa into a kind, weak little victim, manipulated by Light.

That woman may seem sweet, but she's absolutely ruthless. She's selfish, obsessive, stalkerish and emotionally abusive (perhaps not in the traditional way but I will explain)

Way before she even met Light, she managed to kill law enforcement (which might I add, she probably didn't even know was law enforcement) and news reporters just to prove a point. They were just a means to an end to her. She wanted to thank Kira for killing her parent's murderer, but she didn't even stop to think once if the people she killed had families of their own, children of their own. She only had one goal: what she herself, wanted. More than that, Misa literally offered to immediately off her friend, that helped her with the tapes (and if someone offers to help you with that, they're a very close friend for sure) and it wasn't even Light's suggestion. It was all Misa, who saw killing her friend as a way to get Light to trust her. It's clear that girl is willing to kill anyone and anything if it'll help her achieve her goals.

Also, she's super obsessive. My girl traded half her lifespan with no hesitation on the off chance that she might be able to meet Kira. (Yes, she had a plan but there was no guarantee that her plan would even work)And the instant she saw Light, she started stalking him (even though she herself had problems with stalkers) to the point that she just turned up at his house with no warning. Imagine if a stranger just shows up at your house like that, pretending to be a friend and your mom lets them in. That's fucking horrifying.

Also, Misa barely knew Light for like a few seconds and she decided that he was going to be her boyfriend, and NOTHING was going to stay in her way, not even Light himself. She pressured him into being in a relationship with her, even though it was clearly unwanted, Rem literally threatened to kill him if he refused, and then she had the gall to tell Light she would kill any girl she suspected would go out with Light if she saw her with him. This is where the emotional abuse comes from (even though I dunno if I should call it that but I don't know how else to classify it). Misa doesn't really consider Light a person. For her, Light is more like a doll she can project her feelings on. She attributed him emotions according to her whims and acted like those were the reality regardless of Light's real feelings. She made herself the main character in his story, even after told and shown repeatedly tha she wasn't and got mad when years later she was still neglected and barely paid attention to.

I'm not saying all this to hate on Misa and this in no way a Kira appreciation post (my favorite Light is Yotsuba arc Light, I hate Kira tbh) but I'm just saying, if you're a Misa fan you should be able to accept the reality: she's not a weak, sweet little girl, manipulated by evil Light. She's capable of all the horrible things she does all on her own thank you very much and I'm tired of reading fics where Misa is treated like only a victim and given leniency while Light is treated as the only true monster.

I'm just saying, the girl didn't need a boyfriend, she needed a therapist. Badly.