#(i'm not criticizing them. i'm just cackling.)

[meanscarletdeceiver]

Edward scolded the twins severely, but told Gordon it served him right. Gordon was furious.

I don't think we, as a fandom, have grappled enough with the fact that these are the first two sentences of "Edward's Exploit" (RWS).

[matryosika]

Recording Sessions

Pairing — 3racha and Reader

Wordcount — 3,485 words

Genre — Smut

Warnings — Dom!Chan and Changbin, Switch(sub lean)!Jisung, consensual voice recording. Dirty talk, use of petnames (slut), mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), brief spanking, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, mild cum play, sex in a recording booth.

Autor's note — Wrote this a while ago for a commission, but as I was lurking through my google drive I found this again. I think its fun and I've been meaning to post something for a while now, but I can't get anything done sadly. I think I wrote this back in may or june? I am not too sure, but I hope you like it! I've been writing for NCT these days and I have 2 wips for them. I'm also working on something with Lee Know as a character. I hope I can get any of that finished soon! Hope you enjoy this, and I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes in advance 🤍

“Do any of you even know what a real moan sounds like?”

The look on their faces is amusing. Hadn't you been inside the recording booth, you're sure Changbin would have already headlocked you in a playful manner for running your mouth. 

But you are inside the recording booth, the three of them sitting in the studio with frustration written all over their faces.

“This sounds so fake,” you continue, taking off the headset. “What did you type in youtube to get this sample? Women moaning ASMR?”

“You’re not being helpful at all, you know that?” Changbin asks, trying to keep a serious demeanor but failing almost miserably every time he remembers the audio samples that are currently as background vocals in their upcoming song. They do sound awful, but he isn't as straight-forward as you are.

“Well, you asked for my opinion and I’m giving it to you,” the smug look on your face pisses off Chan just a little, but it is nothing new —the endless bickering between the both of you has happened ever since you two met. It's always light-hearted and friendly, but it surely does bring some tension into your friendship with him.

“Any ideas on how we can improve this?” 

“For once, get rid of all the fake moaning and get something that actually sounds like a woman being pleasured,” you instruct them, and smile when you see the three of them paying attention to your words. They have such abilities when it comes to music and producing, but they often look for constructive criticism outside their small group of three just to see things from different perspectives. “We don’t sound like that, it’s more like gasping for air and deep sighs accompanied with mostly quiet moans. This sounds like someone shouting exaggeratedly”.

“I’ve tried,” Chan murmurs, leaning back on his studio chair that he spins slightly. “But nothing sounds right. It’s a bit too much, maybe”.

“No, I do think the song calls for background sounds like these,” you encourage the trio. “It’s just- you need something more raw and real”.

There’s a quick moment of silence in which the four of you exchange glances, without exactly saying anything in particular.

Changbin and Chan look too deep into their own thoughts, probably trying to come up with another idea or alternative for that sound sample you all hate so much. Jisung, on the other hand, is staring right into you through the glass barrier that separates you from them, with an idea in mind he’s not quite sure how to deliver, but that he ends up doing it anyway. 

“What if we record you?” Jisung asks, drawing the scowling glances of the other two. “I mean, you can obviously fake them since you're a woman, right?” 

The suggestion has you cackling quietly, but even Chan and Changbin are considering it —you can tell by how they're looking at you as if they're expecting your verdict.

“Right,” you scoff, crossing both of your arms in front of your chest, “because what better way to spend my Saturday afternoon than faking moans inside a recording booth”. 

“It’s not going to take you long,” It’s Chan who speaks this time. The one you thought was going to be the least to be on board with such a crazy idea. “We all know this isn’t going to be the first time you fake them”. 

Your mouth opens in awe and you curse them mentally when they all laugh under their breaths. It was just one time, with a guy you didn’t even like, and you told them about it because you wanted to get the embarrassing memory out of your system. You were too bored, and desperate to go, that you ended up faking a series of moans that tricked him into thinking you were finished. 

“Very funny, Christopher,” you spit, resentful. “I thought you promised not to bring that shit up, ever again”.

“And I thought you promised you’d help us,” Chan attacks, “so what is it going to be?”

You look at them for a couple of seconds, pondering the situation. You can help them, you really have nothing better to do —yet a better idea comes to mind. 

“Why faking it if you can have the real deal?” you ask, nibbling at the skin against your fingernails. You’re trying to appear collected, but even suggesting such a crazy idea it’s making you feel uneasy. Unless you've gotten the signals wrong, you know they won't turn down such a proposal. “You’re all just sitting there, when one of you could help me”.

It’s Jisung who leans down over the console, clicking a red button to open the microphone.

“What exactly are you proposing?”

“Well, you were the one who pinned this on me, Han,” judging by their facial expressions, you know they understood exactly what you meant. They just want to make sure you are all on the same page. “Why don’t you come here and help me, so we can get this over with?”

“Why him?” Changbin immediately asks, offended even because you didn't consider him as your first option.

“Do you want to help me too?” you chuckle, “because I wouldn’t mind if you joined”.

“Han,” Chan’s cold voice interrupts the silence, catching the attention of the younger. He doesn’t say anything else, but rather signals for him to get inside the recording booth with a tilt of his head.

Jisung doesn’t say anything either, but his eyes flutter between you and Chan, almost begging for further instructions. He hesitates, perplexed. Not because he doesn’t want this, but because he really can’t begin to comprehend this is really happening.

“If you don’t want to, Changbin can do it,” the older speaks again.

“N-no, I mean- I can do it,” Jisung stands up from his studio chair abruptly and hastily, like he is in a rush. To be honest, he kind of is —he has been daydreaming of this moment ever since he met you, so he isn't going to waste it. Even if that means there are going to be other people watching or involved. “I just- what do I do?”

Chan and Changbin scoff quietly, teasing him. “You should ask her that question,” the former replies, crossing both of his arms and leaning back on his chair, “not us”.

“Yeah, okay”. 

Jisung walks inside the booth, swallowing thickly. Is he really about to do this? Is he dreaming? Or is this some sort of a sick joke?

He can’t help but overthink the situation, but every single one of his thoughts goes away when you welcome him into your embrace, holding him tightly against your body with his half-hard cock pressing against your lower abdomen and your tits against his toned chest. The other two are watching, and that only riles him up a lot more.

“Have you ever been this shy?” You tease him, wrapping your arms around his neck and brushing your lips against his. “You’re always so cocky, always running your mouth. But right now you aren’t. I wonder why”. 

“We don’t have that much time,” Chan warns you through the speakers, and you can feel the despair in his voice. Like Changbin, he’s anticipating something and you’re edging them, just like you are to Jisung. 

“Then I’m going to need more help,” you hum, latching your fingers against Jisung’s dark hair while pulling him closer to the crook of your neck. He loses no time and starts kissing and licking the sensitive flesh, hiding his face there. You, on the other hand, look through the glass barrier proudly to the other two who are out. “From the both of you”. 

“One isn’t enough for you? Do you need the three of us?” Chan asks, poking his cheek with his tongue. Changbin, on the other hand, observes the scene in awe, with both excitement and impatience. You don't reply, but shoot an accomplice glance at the older. “I always knew you were some of a slut, I just didn’t think this much”.

“Well, now you know,” you smile, biting your lower lip when Jisung sucks on a sensitive spot a bit too harshly, “so start recording”. 

The following moments are blurry, perhaps because of how nervous you are. You try to act in control, like you're the one calling the shots. But when you feel the three of them near you, with their hands all over you, it's hard to. 

“You’re not that bold now, are you?” Chan whispers in your ear, pressing your arse against his crotch. To your sides, there’s Jisung and Changbin, who grope and kiss your body as much as the other allows them to.

“I’m doing this for you,” you sigh, kicking your head back until it meets Chan’s shoulder. 

“Right,” he scoffs, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to kneel in front of Changbin and Jisung. “We just wanted your advice, but somehow we ended up like this”.

“I wonder why,” you tease him looking up to him while your hands tease the men in front of you.

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s such a filthy slut,” Changbin murmurs, caressing your hair back. 

You can feel them through their sweatpants —you can feel how hard and ready they are for you, how desperate they are for your touch. You wish to take your sweet time with them, to suck the three of until they come in your mouth only to fuck you afterwards. 

You want more than just a quick fuck. But this will have to do for now.

“Suck them off,” Chan orders, pleased with the sight of you on your knees. 

Good thing you’re wearing such accessible clothes today —you’re making his job ten times easier.

“Get us nice and wet, baby,” Changbin proceeds, pulling your head against his crotch while he lowers his sweatpants just enough to release his throbbing cock. “We’re going to fuck you with it, so it’s up to you how easy you’re going to make this for yourself”.

“Don’t forget Jisung too,” the one behind you murmurs into your ear, practically kneeling right beside you while he pulls up your dress, revealing a shameful piece of clothing that he can barely name as underwear. The sight makes Chan’s cock throb even harder. “See how much he’s leaking? I know he has been dreaming of this for a while now”. 

“Fucker,” Jisung hisses through gritted teeth, feeling betrayed by his friend. Truth is, he isn’t telling any lies.

“Aw, you have?” He has been infatuated with you for quite some time now, and he is too awkward to be discreet about it. You have caught him checking you out shamelessly, and it has always been a turn on for you. 

“We all have,” Changbin says, nibbling at his lower lip when you wrap your hand around his cock. You squeeze both of them hard, staring up at them with a mischievous smile. “If only you knew what we talk about when you’re not around”. 

“Mh, I feel a little excluded now,” you pout. “Why don’t you guys just show me?”

You spent another ten minutes on your knees, being throat fucked by your dearest friends Changbin and Jisung. They take turns in burying their cocks inside your warm mouth, using your hair as leverage to let you know which one of them to suck next.

In the meantime, Chan just watches. 

You’re drooling all over yourself by now, your shirt ruined with a mixture of spit, precum and sweat. Your skin feels sticky, your mouth feels full and your pussy feels wet —you really wouldn’t be surprised if the floor was stained with your arousal.

“C’me here,” Chan tells you, grabbing you by your arm and helping you get in a different position. Your knees are bruised and red, but you don’t really care —tomorrow it will be a fun reminder of what happened today. “Now let’s really start recording”. 

You lay on the floor on all fours, with your ass up and your hands and knees supporting your body weight. It's an uncomfortable position, but you can only do much in a recording booth with no bed or couches.

The first one to take a spot right behind you is Changbin. Out of the three, it’s the one who seems more desperate to get his release and you kind of understand him —you’re desperate to feel something too, anything.

“I don’t have-” his voice is strangled, almost panicking. You can feel his hands gripping your hips, and the tip of his cock brushing against your slit. 

“I don’t care,” you encourage him, whimpering when Chan forces your head to face his throbbing dick that he has his fist wrapped around. “Just fuck me”.

It’s the heat of the moment that's getting the best out of you, but you can’t begin to regret it when you feel Changbin’s cock burying itself little by little inside your aching pussy. You try to hold back your moans, worrying that someone outside the hall might hear you, but you know it’s practically impossible.

Plus, that’s the reason why you’re there, anyways.

 So you start enjoying the moment, being as vocal as possible. If anything, the lewd sounds escaping through your lips are only pushing Changbin towards the edge, hips snapping at yours roughly enough to get a series of strained moans immersed in both pleasure and pain.

“You sound so g-good,” Changbin grunts, biting his lower lip to stop himself from being too loud. “Had I known your moans were this pretty, I've would've fucked you before”.

“Fuck, Changbin”. The way his name falls from your lips boosts his ego, and he’s glad everything is being recorded. He makes a mental note to go back to the recording later today, just in case he needs to unwind.

“Jisung will fuck you after him,” Chan demands your attention yet again, brushing the tip of his cock against your lips. He’s kneeling in front of you while Changbin is pounding your pussy from behind. Jisung, on the other hand, is stroking himself while he witnesses the scene; too shy to actually make a move himself, like the rest of them. “And then I will go next, how does that sound?”

“How many seconds- of the sample do you even need?” you chuckle, but the laugh is soon muffled by another whimper caused by Changbin’s ministrations. 

“Just a couple,” he replies, smearing his precum along your lips. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to leave this studio without being fucked by Jisung and me, right?”

You love his cockiness, and how he is always almost right. So you nod frantically, clenching around Changbin at the idea of being filled with the both of them in just a couple of seconds.

It doesn’t take him long to come inside you, especially not with how much your pussy is clenching around him. He does so shamelessly, grunting your name and gripping your hips too harshly you’re sure it will leave a mark tomorrow.

When he pulls out, commanded by Jisung who is too desperate to wait another second, you feel his sticky arousal leaking out of you. It’s a weird sensation, and it makes you feel dirty, but you can’t deny you like it. 

And you like it even more when you feel the tip of Jisung’s cock gathering all of his friend’s cum, fucking it back into you little by little, making sure it doesn’t go to waste.

“Who would’ve thought, hm?” You whimper, feeling a bit sore from Changbin’s aggressive care. “You’re not as innocent as I thought, Jisungie”.

He doesn’t say anything, but gives you a sharp thrust in response. One that makes your whole body jolt and tremble, one that earns you one of the prettiest moans the three of them have ever heard.

Chan is sure the recording is good to be used by now, but he doesn’t want to stop just yet. Or at least not until he also gets his fun.

“S-so tight,” Jisung murmurs, holding you more delicately than Changbin did. You love the contrast, though, and they’re both a good fuck. “And warm, all filled up with cum”.

“You’re going to fill me up too, Jisungie?” On any other occasion, the nickname would’ve earned you a killer gaze and a couple of curses from him. But right now, Jisung doesn’t mind. In fact, he likes it. There’s something enticing about you acting like the one in control.

“Can- I?” He asks with a shakily breath. His sloppy movements tell you he is close, and you take it as a compliment. A minute is definitely a record, but you’re really not mad about it. 

“That depends,” you tease him, crying out loud when his cock starts hitting sensitive spots inside your walls. “Are you going to come a lot for me?” 

“Ngh, y-yes,” Jisung whimpers. “Please, I’m- close, just let- say yes, please”.

“Go on,” you order him, arching your ass even more for him. “Give it to me”. 

Not even a couple of seconds later, you feel a now familiar sensation warming up your lower tummy, leaking through your pussy and onto your thighs. 

“Shit,” Changbin scoffs, checking the scene out. “You made a fucking mess”. 

You want to look at what he did, know how much he came for you, but Chan reinforces your initial position yet again by arching your ass even more.

“Be a good slut for me,” he tells you, landing a sharp spank on one of your ass cheeks. The sudden action makes you cry out in pain, but you don’t hate the sensation completely. “And I’ll be good to you”.

You’re not quite sure what he means, and you don’t get time to ask before he’s bottoming out inside of you. 

“Fuck!” you moan, suddenly losing the strength on your arms and your upper body threatening to plop down onto the floor. “C-chan!”

“C’me here,” he groans, sneaking a hand underneath your tummy looking for your clit. Again, the position isn’t the best but he somehow makes it work. And when you feel his digits rubbing your nerves just at the same pace of his thrusts, you start clenching around him even harder.

“Oh my g-god,” that stimulation is exactly what you need to come undone. Jisung and Changbin did a hell of a job getting you closer to your orgasm, but this is exactly what you needed to reach your climax.

And a well deserved one.

“Come,” Chan grunts through gritted teeth, biting his lower lip while furrowing his eyebrows. The sight of your ass bouncing against his cock is enough to get him to come, but he needs you to come first. “I’ll come with you”.

“Ngh- Chan,” and just like some magic words, you’re coming right after his order. He can feel you tightening around him, trying to milk his cock just as badly as you did with the other two. And he can’t resist that feeling, so he sticks up to his word and comes inside you almost at the same time. 

“Such- a good- little fucking slut,” his words are strained and painful. But his voice only contributes more to your own orgasm, just like the feeling of his cum filling you up. 

It takes the two of you a few moments to actually stop —even after coming, he kept on fucking you slowly until he made sure to fuck all of their cum inside of you. The last thing he wanted was to make a mess inside the recording booth, but it was inevitable. 

The floor is stained with all sorts of fluids, ones that are dripping out of your swollen pussy and others that no one knows how they got there. 

“Jisung,” Chan sighs, caressing your hips while fixing his clothes. “Stay with her, I’ll go get something to clean her up. Make sure she’s alright, and take her to the sofa in the studio, ‘kay?”

Jisung nods, attentive, and he helps you get up off the floor with ease. He wraps his arm around you, and fixes the top part of your dress to which you mutter a quick and soft thank you. 

“Changbin’s going to get you something to eat or drink, and I’ll take care of this. Alright?” 

You nod, still supporting your whole weight on Jisung. Your sore legs can only do much.

“He’s going to be with you in the meantime, but we will all be right back,” Chan’s soft gaze is the opposite to what he showed inside the recording booth, but you absolutely adore the contrast. 

“Yeah, ‘s okay,” you smile. 

“You did good, yeah?” Chan smiles, caressing your hair, “sounded so pretty for us”.

You offer them a weak, yet satisfied smile, “my pleasure”. 

[ot3]

Just curious, what’s your opinions on Kristoph and Phoenix? I see you reblog ship posts about them sometimes and I’m really curious about your opinions on their dynamic both inside and outside of ship stuff, because I didn’t really know how to interpret Kristoph in particular. I think he’s one of the worse villains in AA tbh, it’s been a while so I may be misremembering, but I just didn’t… get that much substance from him?

kristoph is certainly a really hard character for me to fully develop an opinion on in isolation. i think the only area where i'm capable of saying anything about him i can back up with significant references to the text is in regard to his relationship with phoenix, because that's where the meat of his character interactions are. and more broadly because as a #phoenixhead my primary means of looking at the entire franchise is how things relate to phoenix. if you'd like to read about my interpretation of phoenix and kristoph's relationship more specifically i've got a post on that subject here. i think it's a character dynamic that has a TON going for it relative to the screentime if you're able to disregard fanon and look directly at what's in the text.

but more on kristoph individually

kristoph suffers from the same thing that all of aa4's major characters and plotlines do: not getting another game. there was clearly more to the gavin brothers' story we didn't get and will never get, and knowing that there's Something there we have absolutely no means of predicting or unraveling makes it hard to theorize. he kind of exists in a quantum state for me where i can see a ton of alternate perspectives on his character's complexities and just buy whichever one i'm feeling at a given moment. i personally wouldn't say he lacks substance because every interaction he has with any other character is, imo, very compelling and gives me a lot to chew on. but he's a character that's all questions and no real conclusions for sure.

i don't think he's a cackling machiavellian serial abuser. i think hes easily the kind of person who has the capacity to be emotionally abusive and manipulative to the people closest to him without being Pure Evil. because we have so little on him it's very easy to portray kristoph as the kind of sinister that provides whatever OP's favorite flavor of angst is. and i'm certainly no exception to that; i just happen to be a person who is into maybe some subtler flavors.

he's both one of ace attorney's most calculated villains, with poisoning vera's nailpolish being an incredibly cold maneuver that suggests a lot of foresight, and one of ace attorney's most brutal murderers, capable of getting aggressive enough in a moment to bludgeon a man to death with a bottle. i think kristoph can be understood as a character whose primary motivation is control, both over himself and others. there's that critical line in turnabout succession where he tells klavier he's out of control, and klavier says "whos control? mine, or yours?" his reputation is built on his ability to stay calm under pressure, and his ability to stay calm under pressure is built on his tendencies to preemptively engineer situations in his favor. the stuff with phoenix and the gramarye case represents what we can presume to be the biggest failure of his career.

i think this puts him very much in line with AA1's main villains. people like to compare him to dahlia a lot for obvious reasons and there's some fun to be had there but i think it lets people overlook how well he ties into AA1. redd white controlled the press and controlled the judges to get away with his blackmail ring. von karma controlled the witnesses to engineer his perfect cases. damon gant controlled the police and the evidence, and then controlled lana to control the prosecution. although those were all one-case villains i think kristoph justifies his larger scope in aa4 by the significant and longstanding personal connections he has to the rest of the main cast. kristoph represents the mirror image of those AA1 villains; aa1 shows the way the deck is stacked against the defense. kristoph shows what it looks like when someone tries to stack it in the other direction

i think kristoph plays an important part in the larger franchise by showing what corruption looks like from the defense's bench, and how this corruption takes a different cadence when it lacks the systemic power that the villains like gant had. i think his cold, calculated approach to defense works well as a foil to the type of defending we saw from phoenix who is all heart and charges in head first. i think apollo works well representing a sort of compromise between the two, being a little bit shrewder than phoenix but no less earnest. i think klavier, then, as a prosecutor who is much less aggressive than the previous 3 both personally and professional serves to further invert the expectations set by the trilogy in a way that's really satisfying.

is kristoph missing some pretty critical backstory that i would love to see? yeah. absolutely. but i think when you look at him as a story device rather than an underdeveloped character he adds a tonnnnn to the series. that said, i will die wondering.

[elsa-fogen]

what do you think about the fact that al likes doodling?

i have a head canon that he has some sort of scrapbook or sketchbook full of little doodles of things going on at the hotel and just in his life, I feel like he would draw really stick-figureish (is that a word?) but I read a fic that depicted it as the same art style as an Invader-Zim obsessed scene girl and I could not stop cackling.

I also feel like he would either guard it with his life from everyone (exception to Rosie, of course) or just not bother to tell anyone and one day they just find him doodling schoolgirl style, kicking his legs in the air, LMAO NEW THOUGHT WHAT IF CHARLIE OR LUCIFER FOUND IT

OH! OH! Now that you mentioned it - i LOVE that about him! I just absolutely ADORE little thing he made for the add in the first episode. And i love this fact because 1) he's the first character i like that likes to draw canonically (okay maybe also toothless from httyd?) 2) Me and Alastor share so many similarities, and even drawing???? This just makes me love him even more (i'm sure we would hate each other irl tho AHAHHAHAHA or maybe not, idk)

SO, SINCE ME AND AL ARE SO SIMILAR, I'M GONNA PROJECT ON HIM MY DRAWING HABITS >:3c Forgive me this one, i usualy don't do that, i usualy project characters on myself haha

He DOES have sketchbooks just to draw, and they are ORGANISED. He's numbers every sketchbook and counts every drawing in them since the first one. He also has two numbers for each page - through one sketchbook and through them all. He has over 300 of sketchbooks by now (I have less, only 56). They are stashed somewhere in a very safe place.

Every sketchbook has a date of first and last drawing. Also amount of drawings. It looks like: NOTEBOOK 253 (number of sketchbook, also he doesn't call them sketchbooks) 03.06.1978-05.07.1978 (dates while it was active) 119 (amount of drawings) 29961-30080 (which numbers of drawings are in this sketchbook) He would cound something else, but he's just too busy to spend time on it. He can remember something thinking about what he was drawing in that period and vice versa

He used to draw at overlords meetings, pissing off Carmila and everyone else, because it looked like he hadn't listened to them, so Carmila banned drawing at overlords meetings (Alastor is still angry about it)

But he doesn't progress too much - most of his progress was made through first 10-20 sketchbooks, now he only has slight style changes sometimes when he feels like it

Tho he's really proud of his current skill and used to think that he's literally the best (used to get angry when reminded that it's not true) (now he kinda knows, but still likes his own drawings, doesn't accept criticism and doesn't try to purposely improve)

He likes showing his drawings to people, he knows and if he does, you have to say that it's literally So Cool, show enthusiasm turning pages and say that everything is just amazing. If you don't, he'll be OFFENDED. He also can leave a sketchbook opened on a page with a drawing he likes the most, and it's like a sign "NOTICE THAT I'M DRAWING AND SAY THAT YOU LIKE IT"

If he considers you a friend (well not like Rosie, but at least like Charlie), he'll be showing you his drawings regularly (and you have to be enthusiastic about it!!!!!!) He has showed it to Charlie, but somehow her enthusiasm is... too much. She's too patronising about it. He also shows his things to Husk, he knows that Husk is annoyed and doesn't give a shit, and he just enjoys his annoyance. He also shows his drawings to Niffty and she gives him Just Right amount and vibe of enthusiasm. (He sometimes draws something for her fanfiction if he likes something enough and enjoys Niffty's reaction (she explodes from happiness)). BUT!!!!! He never shows anything to Mimzy. Because she's like, person from the real life, and he feels like she would laugh at it. To Rosie he shows only things he considers his best and her opinion is the most important to him. He can even forgive her criticism (wouldn't take it tho) (she never critisizes him and absolutely ADORES his drawings). Angel kinda likes his drawings, but isn't enthusiastic about them enough

He doesn't take requests (Angel tried "draw me like one of your french girls" shit, Alastor never did (also his ass did not get the reference and he was like "i dont??? have??? any french girls????")) (Vox also tried to make Alastor draw something for him, Alastor was just "that's interesting, i'll think about it" and never thought of it again)

SOME OF HIS DRWINGS TURNED OUT TO BE PROPHECIES but he notices that only when something happens and then he goes back to his old sketchbooks and accidentally finds it. They are just coincidenses tho, but it's fun and Alastor makes a big deal from it and screams to Rosie like "I PREDICTED THAT SHIT 27 YEARS AGO" when finds out. (it's how i predicted many plot points from SU and literally TOH hunter's possession before the show even was a thing JHJDFJHFGJFDHKH i wonder if i predicted something from Hazbin, i need to look through my sketchbooks now)

If you dare to mess with his drawings and vandalise them... oh... you better pray to whatever god you belive in to make your sufferings be enough to redeem your sins and go to heven.

[iamumbra195]

Random One Piece incorrect quotes cause I'm bored

Some of these are modern au though

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

*Sanji's not there*

Usopp: HELP! I TOLD LUFFY I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK!

Zoro, pouring alcohol directly into a cereal bowl:

Zoro: And you thought I could help?

...

Luffy: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.

Nami : Wasn't Zoro with you?

Zoro: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised

...

Law: I trust Mugiwara-ya.

Penguin: You think he knows what he's doing?

Law: I wouldn't go that far.

...

Sabo: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life

Ace, confused: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Sabo: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Luffy: edible

...

Nami: We need to get through this locked door. Usopp, give me your credit card.

Usopp: Here.

Nami, pocketing it: Thanks. Luffy, kick down the door.

...

Chopper: You know those things will kill you, right?

Zoro, pouring another glass of whiskey: That’s the point.

Sanji, smoking a cigarette: We’re trying to speed up the process.

Luffy: *Nods while eating raw cookie dough*

...

Robin: Why is Luffy so sad?

Nami: He took one of those “Which Character Are You?” quizzes

Robin: And...?

Nami: He got Buggy

*Zoro cackling in the background

...

Zoro: Self care is actually getting into fights with randos in dark alleys.

Nami: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap!

Kin'emon, trying to be poetic: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!!

Usopp: Lmao self care is taking Luffy's birthday meat cake just so I can eat the frosting.

Luffy: If you touch my meat cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

Sanji, losing his mind: WHY IS THERE FROSTING ON MEAT?

...

Franky, about Jinbe: Apparently we’re getting someone new in the group.

Robin: Are we stealing them?

Brook: New or used?

Franky, cackling: Wonderful responses, both of you.

...

Smoker: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.

Sanji: Shit.

Usopp: Wait, three?

Smoker: Yeah?

Nami: OH MY GOD ZORO FELL OFF!!!

...

Kin'emon: Tonight, one of you has betrayed us.

Ashura: Is it me?

Kin'emon: No, it’s not you.

Denjiro: Is it me, Kin?

Kin'emon: It’s not you either.

Kanjuro: Is it me, Kin'emon?

Kin'emon, bleeding from several debilitating injuries:

Kin'emon, mockingly: Is IT mE kiN'eMOn?

...

Usopp: Can I be frank with you guys?

Luffy, confused: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.

Chopper: Can I still be Chopper?

Franky, snickering: Shh, let Frank speak.

...

Sabo: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Koala: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Sabo: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING ROBIN-CHAN WITH ME

Hack, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

...

Law, walking into his submarine: Hello, people who do not belong here.

Zoro: Hey.

Sanji: Hi.

Robin: Hello.

Chopper: Hey!

Law: I gave you my vivre card for emergencies only!

Luffy, grinning: We were out of meat.

...

Sanji: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works.

Luffy, drinking meat: Why do you say that?

...

Zoro: Do you take constructive criticism?

Nami: I only take cash or credit.

...

Koala: Why are you on the floor?

Sabo: I'm depressed.

Sabo: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ivankov, please.

...

Robin: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?

*everyone looks ay Karasu

Karasu: What? How am I supposed to know?

Lindbergh: You say, as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.

Karasu: *sighs*

Karasu: You wouldn't be trapped

...

Vivi: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.

Nami: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?

Vivi: Yes!

Usopp: ... I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.

...

Usopp: WHY. why did you give Luffy a KNIFE?!

Zoro, shrugging: He said he felt unsafe.

Usopp: Now I feel unsafe!

Zoro: ... would you like a knife?

...

Dragon: What did you do with the target's body?

Sabo : What didn’t I do with the body?

Dragon:

Sabo: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the corpse respectfully.

...

Luffy, texting Ace: Ace! Help I’m being kidnapped

Ace: Where are you?

Luffy: I’m with some strange person. In a car. Help.

Ace: I’ll call Gramps.

Garp, answering their cell: Y’ello?

Ace: Where’s Luffy? He texted me that he was being kidnapped.

Garp: Luffy? Whaddya mean, he's right next to me-

Garp, who shaved his head:

Garp: I’ll call you back. *hangs up*

Garp: THE NEW HAIRCUT ISN’T THAT BAD!

Luffy: WHO ARE YOU?!

...

*Ace, Sabo and Luffy sitting in jail together*

Sabo: So who should we call?

Ace: I’d call Gramps, but I feel safer in jail

...

Roger: Garp, my old arch enemy.

Garp: ... I thought I was your only arch enemy?

Roger: I have a life outside of you, Garp

...

Zoro: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container.

Luffy: The cow???

Zoro: What?

Sanji: *disgusted shudder* LUFFY, W H Y?

...

Usopp: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 billion berry?

Zoro: Nami can stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house and erase my debt

Luffy: You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 billion.

Zoro: Good thinking.

...

Kin'emon: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night.

Denjiro: You were flirting with O'Tsuru.

Kin'emon: So what? She's my wife.

Denjiro: You asked her if she were single.

Kin'emon:

Denjiro: And then you cried when she said she wasn't

...

Marco: What time is it?

Ace: I don’t know; pass me that saxophone and we’ll find out

Ace: *Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune*

Izou: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING

Ace, proudly: It’s 2 am

...

Luffy: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place.

Law: You people already know too much about me.

Kidd: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.

...

Sabo, an enabler: Tell Ace about the birds and the bees.

Luffy: They're disappearing at an alarming rate.

...

Brook: Schrödinger’s cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that’s both dead and alive you can talk to me any time of the day.

...

Zoro: With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.

...

Law: When someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around the room and saying 'Haven’t decided yet' is typically a good response.

Bepo: Captain, no.

...

Law: Nothing in life is free.

Chopper: Love is free!

Luffy: Adventure is free!

Robin: Knowledge is free.

Nami: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

...

Usopp: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Luffy will and will not eat.

Franky: Grass? Yes!

Usopp: Moss? Yes!!

Franky: Leaves? Ohh, yes!

Usopp: Shoelaces? Strange but true!

Franky: Worms? Sometimes!

Usopp: Rocks? Usually nah.

Franky: Twigs? Usually!

Usopp: Zoro's cooking? Inconclusive!

Chopper: How did you… test this?

Usopp: You just hand him stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if he eats it, he eats it.

Chopper: ... I don’t know how to feel about this.

Nami: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SHOELACES WENT?

Robin: What about humans? He tried to eat Crocodile once

Everyone: ...

Usopp: I think I might be too afraid to ask

(Someone pls draw this one XD)

...

Betty: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity?

Koala: *turning to Sabo* How tall are you?

...

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

That's it, this took forever to write lol

[shadesofecclescakes]

Are you a big fanfic reader? What have you read lately and what's been your favourite fic so far?

Oh mannnnnnnnn. Why don't you ask me to pick a favourite child while you're at it???

Just kidding. I don't have kids. But I assume having to pick a favourite would be hard if I did.

So, am I a big fanfic reader? YES. And what haven't I read lately? We are lucky enough to have so many talented writers in this fandom that it's possible to subscribe to numerous multi-chapter fics to the point where you're just constantly getting update emails. Which I do. It's great. It gives me something to do at work aside from, y'know, work.

*Me at work being smug about being paid to read porn* (Also I just wanted to look at this gif)

So what is currently on my endless update list? Coming up after the cut!

I am an absolute whore for human AU, so if you like that then you will probably like:

The Cure for a Broken Heart by @rofell

a medical student AU based in the Canadian medical system (I'm a Canadian so I was pretty excited about that). It manages to tackle the continued systemic discrimination of Indigenous people in our medical system (and in general), homophobia and the ensuing trauma from those things all while also being informative, funny, sweet, romantic and hot af. Like. It's so good.

Free by @maaikeatthefullmoon

This is another one with with a heavy topic that also does a great job of making sure to break it up with some excellent fluff, hurt/comfort and humorous moments. And it's handled with the sensitivity and thoughtfulness necessary to write something that takes place in a mental health ward and deals with some intense situations. Definitely make sure to read those author notes before diving in. They lay it out very thoroughly.

The Sincere Way by @tsyvia48

A martial arts AU. Crowley is a karate sensei and Aziraphale is his student. Slow burn that keeps you on the edge. The screams I have scrumt at my screen over this one. Plus you learn a lot about karate (but it never gets boring or over-explainey. Excellently balanced) which is pretty cool. Mostly light (there is some angst. This is the Good Omens fandom. I think we are all sad, wet chihuahuas at heart). Funny and sweet.

Terminus by @emotional-support-demon-crowley

Plus One by @caedmonfaith

Astronaut AU. Aziraphale is an astronaut who meets his mission controller, Crowley, over the comms system when he finds himself in need of assistance.

Super cool concept and really well-done in my opinion. Like, I don't do any space or physics-related work (ok I straight-up failed math 9) but I find it entirely believable. And it's well-written which is the entire point. Cute, funny slow burn with an intriguing mystery happening in the background.

Aziraphale has family money but a shitty family (except for Muriel! Never Muriel!) and his shitty brother Gabriel is getting married to shitty Michael, an Earl's daughter.

Aziraphale's family disproves of his entire life pretty much and he has been lying to them about having a boyfriend. Now they are expecting him to bring said boyfriend to the wedding. His famous footballer friend sets him up with their mechanic, Crowley.

It starts as a slow-burn but becomes a hilarious, smutty romp that just gets more and more insane. The chapter titles alone have made me cackle out loud.

Some older human AUs I'm a huge fan of include Old Vines by @sevdrag. Crowley owns a vineyard and Aziraphale is a wine critic. It is so amazingly written. It makes me think of the author Joanna Harris (Chocolat, The Five Quarters of the Orange) because it's SO beautifully, vividly descriptive that I end up craaaaaving wine. So have a bottle on hand if you're giving this a read.

Also the love story in this. My god. I devoured it. The story and the (many bottles of) wine.

There is also Loosely Ballroom by marginalia_device and mortifyingideal. It's a Strictly Come Dancing (Dancing with the Stars in North America) AU and it is so. Fucking. Good.

But it comes with a disclaimer. It's unfinished and looks likely to stay that way. But honestly? Still worth it. It's nearly finished (I think) so you have most of the story. And it's just SO good. It's been a while since I read it but it was one of the first human AUs I read and what got me hooked on them.

If you're still with me...nice! Just know that was me holding back and that isn't my entire list by a long shot. If you want more recs, feel free to message me and also share your own!

I just finished Slow Show the actor AU by @mia-ugly and yes please.

Some serious angst, pining and hot hot smut.

There is another long-form multi-chapter actor au I loooved but I can't remember the name for the life of me. Just that the show they were on was basically good omens and that they swapped roles with great success (inspired by the whole Michael thinking Neil wanted him to play Crowley when he wanted Aziraphale thing).

Thanks for the ask! That was really fun!

[paladin--strait]

soulmates part 2

luke hughes x reader

part 1 here! series masterlist here!

tw!!: some language, mentions of sex, verbal arguements, use of y/n, reader can be depicted as any body shape/size. this story moves kinda fast, since I want it to only be a couple of parts long.

warning: this is a complete work of fiction. I am no way saying or implying that these people act the way the do in the story. as always, this is really cringey as I'm still figuring out my writing style! I am open to any sort of constructive criticism! thank you for reading and enjoy!

y/n's pov;

the chatter of the lake house game room was loud, just as expected considering the amount of players and their partners that are packed into the smaller room. I was nestled in the corner with a drink tucked in my hand, watching jamie and trevor play a 'friendly' game of pool.

the boys bicker and laugh while they play, joking around with their friends. but the rumble of my hungry stomach is enough to bring me out of my trance of watching the game. I walk to jack, and ask if I can get something to eat, to which he says yes before I make my way to the kitchen.

the kitchen is packed full of yummy foods that can either be cooked and prepared or can just be enjoyed the way they are. I eventually settle on some chips and dip for my small meal, enough to fill me up but enough to leave space for me to eat dinner later.

I soon hear the sound of footsteps traveling down the hall that leads to the kitchen and it catches my attention, pulling me away from my food to see who it is.

its kaitlyn.

and if looks could kill I would be dead right now.

her arms cross against her chest as she stands with purpose. "I don't appreciate you flirting with my boyfriend." she says, slowly. even though her voice is soft, with the tone and the way she says her statement, I know she means business. "I see the way that you look at him and talk to him. he's not interested in you so I hope you can get that through your fat skull quick enough to know not to mess with me." she states, slowly getting louder and closer to me before she laughs and pokes her finger into my forehead.

I stifle back a laugh before I push her finger off of my forehead. oh how I wish she could see that look on her face right now.

her face is red, boiling with anger and jealousy while she breathes huffs of hot and boozy smelling air in my face. I soon can't find the strength to hold back my laugh any longer, and the cackle that escapes my throat is like no other laugh that I've heard leave confines my mouth.

if its even possible, her face turns a deeper red the more I laugh. I can physically see her body twitching and trembling with fury while I'm attempting to calm my laughing fit.

"oh sweetheart, I'm honored that you think I'm fake enough for jack. it seems to be his type considering all the girls he's been with all look like you. plastic."

I'll apologize to jack for that one later.

"listen here you dumb fuck! I could beat the shit out of your fat ass. don't even test me." she yells, not aware of the growing crowd of people behind her, including all of the hughes brothers. "I've been with more guys than you can even think of! and most of them are celebrities. nobody seems to mind that I supposedly look like plastic because I get more dick than a pornstar does anyways! why do you think I'm here? I've hooked up with soccer players, football players, volleyball players, basketball players, and now I'm about to hook up with a hockey player and I will not let you get in my way!" she yells, the grip she has on her brand new iphone getting harder.

"I don't think y/n be the one getting in your way of getting into jack's pants tonight." quinn yells out and kaitlyn freezes, her eyes going wide as she slowly turns to look behind her, seeing that she has attracted everyone in the house. and they all saw her little outburst of jealousy.

"seems the only one stopping you from that is yourself. it looks like you were to busy only thinking about yourself that you can't even pay attention to your surroundings. I bet that you wouldn't even know it if a snake bit you just then." I say with a chuckle. "I also hope that you know that i don't care anything about fucking with jack. I barely know the guy and he's not even my type. but I hope you can think over your life choices in your ride home, bitch."

I barely have time to think over what I'm doing before I 'accidentally' spill a cup of lemonade all over her phone and expensive clothes, causing her to drop it. "oh no...oops!" I say with a smile. her mouth drops open, while she bends down to pick up the phone to see that the screen is completely cracked, sticky from the lemonade, and it won't even turn on. "I guess you can't call an uber. looks like you''ll have to walk home..." I shrug, refilling my cup and looking her while she screams her lungs out at me before running to the door. "make sure you grab your STDs on the way out!" I yell out at her, smiling.

jack came over and thanked me for saving him from in his words, 'such a crazy bitch' and quinn came over to cheer me on for winning my little fight.

"there's the y/n I know!" quinn says, hugging me tight and shaking me.

I laugh and pat him on the shoulder after he pulls away fro. the hug. "thanks for chiming in, quinnifer. I was getting a little worried since I didn't really know what to say." I say with a lighthearted laugh.

we chat a little more about it then decide to let that be in the past and continue to enjoy the rest of our night at the lake house.

people end up leaving to go to their own hotels or air bnb's for bed and the people staying here slowly navigate to their rooms. eventually leaving me and luke in the game room. "wanna go outside and sit on the dock, luke?" I ask with a sigh. it's been awkward between us since we met and I wish that would go stop.

"sure. we can go out on the boat if you want?" he says, and I agree while he walks over the key and coat rack. "you can wear my devils jacket so you don't have to dig through your suitcase to find yours. I usually get it a size or two larger than usual so it's not tight. I don't like tight jackets." he explains while he hands me the jacket. I look at it in my hands and see the devils emblem with his name and number on the chest area. I smile and I feel my face heat up slightly so I look away, trying to hide my blush.

luke and I slip on our jackets as we walk outside onto the dock and closer to the boat. he jumps in and then holds out his hand to help me get in. I thank him and take a seat on one of the built in benches while luke drives the boat out into the lake. "you should come out here with the guys and I sometime. sometimes we bring the jetski's and we just mess around a lot. but other times we just sit and talk. it's a lot of fun." he says, stopping the boat and coming to sit beside me.

"I bet. quinn has already begged me to come out here with you guys tomorrow and I think if I don't come he'll probably kill me." I say with a laugh. "but it sounds like fun so I'll most likely come with you guys." luke laughs along with me and we sit in scilence for a few minutes. just looking around at the stars and the beautifully lit docks from other people's lake houses.

"hey y/n, I'm sorry about earlier. when you came onto the dock to introduce yourself to me? I was really nervous. I'm gonna be honest with you, you're the prettiest girl I've ever met and I was worried that I would fall for you and I was scared about that since I thought you were quinn's girl. he's my brother and if I fell for you while you two were together I don't know what I would do or what quinn would say about it. until he told me that y'all weren't a thing and that he thought we would be perfect together...sorry for being so rude and awkward." luke says, looking up at the stars before looking back down at my wide eyes.

"luke, quinn and I aren't a thing. we never have and never will be. I've always seen quinn as an older brother type of friend. when I met him, I was scared and alone in a club that my friend left me at while she went to hook up with some guy. this man that was way older than me was hitting on me and he wouldn't leave me alone until quinn and brock came up and scared the guy off. he found out I was new to the area and kinda took me under his wing. he's always talked about you and jack so much and I was super excited to meet you guys. he told me not to tell you this when I met you but since it seems he told you the same thing, I guess I'll just say it. but he said that he can see us becoming the perfect couple and that he really wanted for me to meet you so 'he can be right'. those were his words by the way." I explain to luke, watching his eyes go wide. "quinn moved me out of my apartment that I lived in with my ex best friend, moved me into his apartment with him, and got me a job in media with the canucks. he really helped me out and the more time we spent with each other, the more we became best friends. "

luke nods and then asks me some questions about how life was living with quinn and whether if he was a good roommate or not.

"luke. let's get back to what we both said earlier. we both said that quinn told us we would be perfect together, right? I hope you don't think that I just came down here so I could meet you and become your girlfriend and become famous and all that. that wasn't my goal and I hope you don't feel that way because that isn't what I meant for it to seem like." I spit out, rushing my words because I really don't want him to feel that way.

sure, I wanted to meet the person who is my supposed 'soulmate'. but I also wanted to spend time with my best friend and meet all of his friends and family. my fingers twitch and my leg bounces while I wait for his response.

"I didn't think of it that way at all." he responds. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. "I just thought you came down here to be with quinn and to meet us. and don't worry about it, I didn't think about you like that at all." he pats my shoulder and laughs.

"okay good." I say with a laugh and look up to look at the stars, "the sky is so clear. it's like you can see every star in the galaxy out here. it's so beautiful"

luke chuckles, "yeah, I agree. the view is beautiful." I turn to look at him while he talks and I realize that he's been looking at me the whole time.

I can feel the heat creeping up my cheeks but I pull the jacket tighter around me to keep my body warm. my eyes widen when I feel luke's arms reach around my waist and pull me into his chest.

"we can go back to the house soon. I just want to stay out here with you for a bit longer." he mutters into my hair, and I wrap my arms around his waist too, getting more comfortable.

I hum and close my eyes, the feeling of sleep overtaking me.

-

I wake up to luke saying my name and shaking my shoulders. I sit up and stretch, opening my eyes and its bright, the sun hitting my face.

"y/n, we fell asleep on the boat! we need to get back to the house now before quinn kills me." luke yells, turning the keys and starting the boat, driving back to house while I fall in and out of sleep in the seat.

when we get back, luke gets off of the boat and helps me out.

"luke warren hughes! I can't believe you!" quinn yells out, speed walking towards us, his little posse behind him. luke and I's eyes go wide and we look at each other with fear. "I can't believe you two fell asleep on the boat. I called both of you and your phones went off on the couch. what if you ran out of gas last night? how would we have found y'all?" quinn goes on and on about how dangerous it was but luke and I don't listen.

luke gives me a mischievous look and I smile back while giving him a nod. he grabs my hand and runs with me straight past quinn and the rest of the people who followed him and back into the house, running straight for the front door and out to luke's car. we laugh and jump in, taking off down the driveway while quinn is yelling at luke behind us.

"well since he didn't kill me then, he'll definitely kill me later." luke's laughter fills the car and soon mine does too. "so, where are we going? breakfast?" he says, looking over at me, but still keeping his eyes on the road.

"yeah, breakfast sounds great. where though?" I ask. we talk about it and soon settle on a local cafe. one that doesn't get a lot if attention so luke wouldn't be bothered while eating his breakfast.

"I'm scared for you when we go home." I laugh, "you would think that since be wants us to date so bad that he would be okay with us spending time with each other."

luke agrees and we continue chatting while we eat. we talk about what he and jack do in their free time, and what quinn and I do in our free time. I ask him about what type of drills they do during practice and whether or not they skate suicides when they mess up and I ask him lots of other stuff too.

our conversation is going really well and I'm getting to know luke really well. but its all cut short when I make eye contact with a new customer who just walked through the door. its quinn. and he's pissed.

[riality-check]

riiaaa!! for the 100 ways to say i love you prompts, #1 and steddie please!!

(this is also very late, but here we go!)

"Pull over, let me drive for a while."

"Steve."

"Mhm."

"Steve."

"Yeah?"

"You're gonna drive us off the road."

"I'm fine," Steve says, and Eddie watches from the passenger seat as the car moves a full two feet onto the shoulder.

And people have the nerve to criticize his driving.

"Yeah, no," Eddie says. "Pull over, let me drive for a while."

"I got it," Steve says, a mid-sentence yawn ruins his credibility.

Eddie sighs. Steve is more than just a good dude; he's become one of Eddie's closest friends over the past few months, thank you, trauma bonding. But even though Steve Harrington is a good person, he's exceptionally stubborn when he wants to be, and driving his Beemer is the most stubborn he ever gets.

Seriously, though? He needs to sleep. He's gonna get them hurt otherwise.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says, and where that came from, he's going to blame on the sleep deprivation, "please. I promise I won't scratch your car."

Steve straightens up at that. Sneaks a glance at Eddie out of the corner of his eye. Relaxes his grip on the wheel.

"Okay," he says, and he puts his blinker on, pulls onto the shoulder. "Yeah, you can drive."

Eddie breathes out a sigh of relief as they switch seats. He's lucky he and Steve are the same size, nearly; he doesn't have to adjust the seat or the mirrors.

He glances at Steve, just to make sure he's settled, before he shifts the car into gear and gets them back on the road toward Hawkins.

Move in was a success all around. First Nancy, in Boston, then Jonathan in New York, then Robin in Philadelphia. Steve and Eddie had nothing else to do, the gas money to spare, and a want to help out. Taking the Beemer seemed stupid until Eddie was reminded by everyone, less than nicely, that the van would fall apart on a drive to Indy, nevermind to three different cities on the East Coast.

They fit less boxes, but at least they made the journey without breaking down.

And now they're on their way back, at nearly midnight with four hours left to go, because it makes more sense to drive than to find an affordable hotel that's not a shithole in Philadelphia.

"This is weird," Steve mumbles.

"What is?"

"Letting someone else drive my car," he explains. "Last time, I was concussed, and Max almost drove us into a telephone pole."

"Mayfield?"

"Yeah, back in '84. Hargrove beat the shit out of me so bad I could barely think, the kids had to get somewhere, and she was the only one who knew at least a little about how to drive."

Eddie laughs and shakes his head. "Everything I learn about you is weirder and weirder."

"I didn't even tell you the worst part."

"Which is?"

"I was so out of it, I thought Mike was Nancy."

Eddie cackles, wiping the tears from his eyes as he continues to drive. Thank god no else is on the road.

"They don't even look alike," he wheezes.

"In my defense," Steve says with a smile, "I did have brain damage."

"Past tense?"

Steve punches him in the shoulder. "Asshole."

Eddie rubs over the spot with one hand and keeps driving with the other. It's nice, this time of night. No one on the road, warm enough to have the windows cracked in the pitch black. Music playing loud enough to hear but low enough to have a conversation over.

It helps that Steve's rich-boy car drives smoother than anything else Eddie's been behind the wheel of, and Eddie's been behind a lot of different wheels in his life.

"Thanks," Steve says after a little while.

"For what?"

"Driving."

"Of course," Eddie says, because he means it. Of course he'd drive when Steve can't. It's what you do for the people you-

Eddie looks over at Steve. He's kicked his shoes off and scrunched his knees to his chest on the passenger seat. He's curled up, toward Eddie, with his hair fanned out and his cheek squished against his knee, eyes closed. The streetlights, as they race by them, cast his skin in varying shades of silver and gold, highlighting the contrast of his freckles.

-love.

Eddie's doing this because it's what he does for the people he loves.

It's a quieter realization than he expected. Eddie has loved a lot of people like he loves Wayne and his friends, but he's never been in love before. He thought it would be an all-consuming, heart-racing crash, a collision bringing fire and constriction, needing the jaws of life to pull him out.

This isn't like that. This is liking being a little kid, jumping off the couch, and knowing someone is waiting at the bottom to catch him. There's the feeling of danger, sure, but he knows what's at the bottom.

He wonders how long he's known. Long enough for that love, the love he has for Steve, to be something comfortable and warm in his chest.

Steve's hand rests on the space between them, palm up, outstretched. Eddie takes it and squeezes it.

And, though Steve is surely asleep, he thinks he might squeeze back.

Prompts here.

[eosphoria]

I'm cackling so I have to analyze these fits in depth. (It ain't that serious I just want to criticize shit for a bit)

1. Shoes. Bakugo, you're doing perfect. Izuku. IZUKU. I will get them shoelaces and choke you with them, maybe if I traumatize you enough you'll stop using them WITH ALL OF YOUR FITS. leaving every reasoning behind of "maybe he can't afford new shoes." "Maybe he got a bit of the awtism and those are his comfort shoes", I am leaving all of that aside. Just please stop. Please, youre a 2d character and the outfit options are literally endless, shut up. ALSO TH3 SHOES AND THE COLOR OF THE SHIRT ARE CLASHING SO MUCH 😭

2. Pants. Bakugo, again, perfect with them shoes combining. Izuku keeps acting funny. And the more funny he gets the more I crave for blood, next.

3. Now katsukis pose is a little funny, idk why is it getting me so hard. Izuku's pose is, again, izuku-like, no notes.

4. The patterns. Katsukis patterns and colors are so well done. NOW WHO TJE FUCK CHOSE THAT BOWTIE AND SUSPENDERS. WHO CHOSE THAT PATTERN. AND COLORS. BECAUSE AGAIN WITH THAT COLOR OF SHIRT AND THAT COLOR OF SHOES? my fucking GOD, it's making me want to redesign his entire fit, he deserves better, THE FUCK ARE THEY DOING

5. Katsukis pose is giving

6. They clash so much visually, can u believe bakugo dreamed of a future with a dude that dresses like that? He blind.

[sleepy-the-loz-enthusiast]

The chain as various things me and my sibling do:

- When walking, Wind will just infodump about anything and everything

- Wild will find and use anything and everything as a weapon

- Hyrule will purposefully approach Legend or Wild at any given moment and start affectionately bothering them

- Wind does that too

- Sky offers nonjudgemental hugs to anyone having a bad day and is content just holding people until they feel better

- Warriors lets anyone just ramble to him about anything and use his hands or scarf as a way to stim (yes they're all neurodivergent, no I'm not taking constructive criticism)

- He also remembers random facts and things that make the others happy and brings them up in conversation sometimes

- Time makes really bad jokes, like the kind that take five minutes for people to understand and when they do, they just groan in despair. This man just cackles when it happens

- Wild takes photos every time he sees a cat or other animal and shows them to Twi

- Four will just randomly approach the others, say a fact that has nothing to do with anything being discussed, and refuse to elaborate

- Legend gifts pieces of jewellery he doesn't wear that often to the others

- Twilight loudly 'awweee's whenever he sees a cat and spends at least 20 minutes just babying it, petting it, and letting it climb all over him

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 4.1

This is embarrassing but I'm actually so obsessed with the first five minutes of this episode that I've got it bookmarked in my YouTube account. It's just so perfect!

“Say you don't looooove him, my salamander. Then why did you neeeeeeed him? Ono don't answer.” He genuinely thinks need and love are the same and I really hope he's got therapy for that messed up mindset by now.

Officially honored as the most successful musical composer and recording artist of all time. That damn well better be mentioned in his movie. And people still don't take him seriously. But also. John definitely smashed his TV.

I'm screaming. I love Linda the promoter so fucking much!! Interviewer: I knew a lot of your records had went gold and platinum and– Linda: a lot of them? All of them! Ugh I wish she was still with him now.

And then THIS! “What really happened between you and John?” As the first notes to “I Will Survive” play. It's too good. Everyone has to go watch that bit right now.

Linda coming in for the kill again with her fake posh accent: critics? Critics? Oooooh! … They're always three years behind.

Look at him (to the tune Bitch by Meredeth Brooks) he's a whore, he's a father, he's a star, he's a success, he's a lover he's smug, he's laughing, he's having fun, he's working hard. He's everything.

Interviewing Wings concert goers and this one girl goes, "oh I just got off on all of it" and another one goes “It was great, i came twice!” Literally it should've been me!!!!

The McCartneys are seriously such a big family. And it's been Paul's responsibility since was about 21, really, to make sure they're all okay financially. That Francie story of him crumbling in the street in Liverpool haunts me.

"Why shouldn't they go to the same school as everyone else goes to?" State schools should be the only legal schools btw.

I love what the creator does to contextualize their songs by pairing them with other contemporary footage. It makes it much easier for me to understand why something like “arrow through me” (which I love but none of the people I've shown it to do) would've been so popular.

Oh here we go again. Just show us the marriage certificate already.

Cackling at the contrast between “Old Siam Sir” which is one of my all time fav rockers and footage of the Stones being cringe AF and Dylan being so beyond done he's basically dead.

Oh. Okay. And then they slap us in the face with John's poor baby late 70s demo voice crooning, “Don't want your looooove. Anymore.” “I die each time I hear your name.” I'm fine. It's fine. I'm just vomiting my guts out because I'm sick. That's why.

The pairing of “Mr H Atom” with Paul's would've-been drag show is genius, but what is that clip of some sort of trial stuck in there? If anyone knows, please inform me. (16:15)

John sounds so sad talking about the “endless search for . . . Scotland . . . Within an hour of New York.” I can't help thinking of the Mull of Kintyre. But John was also the one who turned Paul on to Scotland in the first place, ≈always waxing poetic about the heather and the hills≈.

Sean is so adorable. Reminds me of my little guy a bit actually.

Why do I always want to tell Paul to be nice to John? John is worse to him. Idk maybe because John's pain is more visible.

[nyaniikat]

Special present

NSFW

Male reader

Fem aligned DNI

Masterlist

•---------•

Your body shaking from overstimulation, you felt his cum flowing out of your ass but he kept stuffing it back in with his fingers.

"Don't tell me you're already tired now y/n~, we still have a long way to go baby~"

You felt his hand start to pump your cock as he did everything he could to milk all out of you. Telling him you could be his personal fuck toy for the night and he could go as hard as felt like with no holding back (as long as he remembers the safe word) was definitely a great idea.

Usually he would still hold back to some degree or the two of you would have quickies as he had to run around a lot for the league. This time however he could do things as long and slow or fast as he like.

A shiver went down your spine as you felt yourself release again. Dabi sits you up and placing you on his lap and making circle movements on your nipples.

"That's a good baby boy~ what a sweet bitch you are today~"

His words went straight to your dick as you felt yourself harden up again, he cackles at the sight of you getting horny just from him praising you. Lifting you up slightly he placed his dick right in you, forcing you to sit on it. Holding your legs up he fucks you in your abused hole, the cum that was stuffed in there coming out making your hole more sloppy than it already was.

Moans went right out of your mouth as you called out Dabis name in pleasure, one of his hands forced you to turn to him and with that he shoves his tongue down your throat and the free hand went right to pulling on your nipples.

Dabi felt he was close to cumming again, thrusting into you faster he kisses you harder wanting every bit of you

"Ah hann-gh baby boy you're going to be stuffed with my cum again okay? Daddy's going to make you nice and full~"

With that he released into you as you feel yourself let go as well. Heavy panting now filled the room and your eyes could barely keep itself open. Dabi held you close to him as he kissed your face with so much adoration. You were his and he was yours nothing could change that, he was one lucky guy to have someone like you by his side. Someone who was willing to hear him out, someone who would stick close to him no matter how many fights and shitty conversations you had with eachother, before he never liked it when you criticised him for thinking about certain things or doing certain thing, but now he takes that criticism and keeps it in mind after an argument you both had.

Slowly pulling you out of him, he carefully puts you in the pillow/plush fort that you made on the ground with your stolen given plushies. Cleaning up was something he didn't like to do right after sex but seeing how messy and cum filled the sheets were he had no choice.

After cleaning up and changing out the sheets (occasionally checking up on you and you were out like a light) he ran some water in the tub whilst putting boiling hot water in it as well so the two can mix into a comfortable temperature. After making sure the temp of the water was okay he walked over to you waking you up.

"Heyyy bitch~ wake up it's bath time"

"Only if you wash me and clean me up then I'll go"

"Was already thinking about doing that but maybe I won't now"

"You better not change your mind asshole"

Putting your arms up showing you want to be carried, he picked you up and placed you down in the tub and slowly went in to sit behind you. Passing him some soap and a scrub to scrub your back he starts on it immediately as you start putting shampoo in your hair, untangling the mess out. After washing yourself up you just leaned against your boyfriends chest as his hand held yours. Times like these you wish were longer and happend more often, but him being part of a big boy villain group and you making support items for anyone who wishes to buy them you both tend to not see eachother too often.

"You alright sweetheart?"

"Yeah yeah I'm fine, just thinking of how much I love you~"

"That's weird and disgusting of you to say. Don't say cheesy shit again please."

He stood up and went out of the tub, unplugging the plug before picking you up so he could dry you up with a towel.

"Hehe okay okay but seriously I wish we could just stay like this sometimes"

"I mean.. we could but that means fucking your brains out and me possibly having to leave mid way or first thing in the morning."

Seeing you dry enough, he dries himself before dragging you into bed with him

"Ugh true, how long are you able to stay tomorrow."

"I think I'll have to go back by evening so we still have some time on our hands for eachother"

"That's good, I just want you here with me right now"

Cuddling right up to him with his arms wrapped around you, the both of you just stayed in a comfortable silence and slowly fell asleep in each others arms.

•---------•

[nalyra-dreaming]

Did Anne purposefuly write Marius as an arrogant self-important mediocre asshole (my impression after reading TVL) or did she genuinely think she was writing a mysterious intelligent cool dude?

I know every character in VC has done horrible things, I'm not really talking about morals here. It's just that when looking at Louis, Lestat and Armand I go "what a freak. Love that for him", even when they are being insufferable. I look at Marius and just go "ugh". I'm wondering if he was intended to serve the purpose of a universally disliked character?

:))) I mean, I wouldn't say he is universally disliked? (I'm neutral - I find him a fascinating character but don't really like him, if that makes sense).

Iirc Anne saw in him something like a hero of the VC (I think there's a FB post on that somewhere) and she definitely liked him.^^

I mean... Marius... is Marius.

He's writing the later constitution of the vampires in latin - with Lestat. A language which (most of) the young ones don't speak *coughs*.

But, anyways, there's this slight... side-tone to (even) Lestat's narration there which always makes me cackle:

"I was spending part of every evening working with Marius on a constitution that he was writing in Latin, that reflected far too much of his Roman principles, and strange Hellenistic disdain for the material and the biological, and then I spent time talking with the young ones about how they must and could protect themselves from discovery, while working with all the relentless digital surveillance of the mortal world. The spiritual, the practical, the timeless challenges, the challenges of the moment."

The weird disdain and too much reflection on Roman principles. 💀

That's pretty much as far as any open criticism of Lestat (of Marius) goes in the books, but then it cannot be dismissed that Lestat never became the pupil that Marius wanted him to be - for reasons. Because I think Lestat was very much aware of Marius abandoning Armand to the Children of Satan... something he would have never done.

So, I... think her writing of Marius was very much intentional. And the way the other characters react to him (and his actions) as well.

Whether you like him (or not) depends on what you see in him I guess and what you're looking for in a (fictional!) character, too.

I'm quite sure the show won't shy away from showing alllll the facets of Marius... and it will be hugely interesting to see them implement the character relationships.

[anjaelle]

The Next Great American Epic

Pairings: Professor!Oscar Isaac x Black Female!Reader

Warnings: Oral (f!receiving), Age Gap (Reader is in mid-late 20s), Student x Teacher Relationship, Unprotected Sex (strap up, people), implied infidelity

Summary: Professor Hernandez Estrada is a proven smartass and literary genius. As much as you can't stand the way he tears your work to shreds, you can't help but respect him and hold his opinion of you in high regard.

Word Count: 4.2K

a/n: Based on this post and the intense love I have for gray, studious looking Oscar. I started this in July 2022, and I'm just now finishing it. I'm semi ashamed but also not. Don't judge me.

(gif source)

Oscar treated every lecture like a performance, to some degree. You could feel the passion behind his words and knew he spent countless sleepless nights dissecting the language of the great intellectuals before him.

He was a nerd, thus, incredibly attractive in that "dad's best friend who's a museum curator and laughs at his own history jokes" kind of way. His written work was brilliant. You wanted to impress him. Not just because he was cute--though that was a bonus--but because he pissed you off with how incredibly critical he was of you. You were convinced he did it just to fuck with you, specifically, for shits and giggles. Every so often, you'd zone out imagining him cackling madly at your work, using his Red Pen of Death to hurt your pride. Sometimes you'd imagine a deeply passionate argument between you two, ending with you throwing things. Sometimes it ended with you splayed out on his desk. Again.

When that happened, you'd mentally return to the lecture and find him looking at you, curiously. If you didn't know any better, you'd swear that he could read your thoughts.

He paced the front of the room in a heavy black sweater with the sleeves rolled up, occasionally pushing his thick rimmed glasses up his nose as he spoke. The brief pauses he took to sip water or ask a question were punctuated by the click-clack of keyboards throughout the room. Or, in your case, the shuffling of papers. Writing with pen to paper helped your scattered brain remember things better, though you couldn't help but feel largely out of touch for the archaic method of note-taking.

"Who decides what literary work is inherently American?" He asked to the class, "Where's the line? When the artist of color is placed into a box as an 'other' or designated as American with an asterisk, are publications and critics implying that the author is not truly American?

"After all," he said, removing his glasses to wipe them, "the cultural zeitgeist is shaped by an amalgamation of many experiences. Is the story of an immigrant from Colombia 100 years ago any less American than the tale of a farmer from Oklahoma during the Great Depression? When we ask for tried and true stories of American Grit, whose stories are we reading?"

Sure, he said that experiences mattered. But, god, was he anal about the details. The newest revision of your work peeked from behind your notebook, scarred in red ink. When you received it back earlier that afternoon, you resisted the burning desire to throw it back at him and tell him to eat a dick. The first couple of times he shot your writing down, you could understand perfectly what he was looking for. This time, you were sure that you were following his advice down to the letter, and it still wasn't good enough for him.

He absentmindedly pushed his salt and pepper curls from his forehead and you wanted to flip a table.

Oscar paused his pacing in front of your desk as you scribbled your thoughts down. You chanced a glance at him to find him already looking over your notes.

"Huh," he had the audacity to smile at you and mutter softly, "Nice handwriting."

Your cheeks warmed at the praise of your neatly looping cursive. The eyes of your peers burned into your back.

He gently tapped your desk with his calloused knuckle and continued on with his lecture, as if his little comment was just a natural part of his daily performance. It was the first time in a while that you'd interacted with him in a way that didn't involve him explaining why your marked up thesis was shit. You could appreciate the compliment, even if it had nothing to do with the quality of the work you put blood, sweat, and tears into.

And now you were annoyed again.

You knew that Oscar wasn't surprised to find you standing outside of his office. A polite smile graced his lips, though something else flickered across his features that you vaguely recognized. You plastered your own polite smile on your face and waved your thick stack of paper at him.

"Explain, Oscar."

Without another word, he tiredly unlocked his office door and motioned for you to enter the roomy space. Numerous large bookcases lined the wall parallel to his desk, and stacks of newspapers and literary journals decorated the ottoman rug that spanned the width of his office. A small fridge and espresso machine sat on a desk in the corner. Above it was a fading portrait of a young looking South Asian man with neatly combed hair and a trimmed mustache, wearing a smart looking suit. The first time you saw it, you surmised by the aged clothing and studious expression that it was a portrait of the university’s very first professor of color, Benjamin Kapoor.

The office was nearly the size of your studio apartment. Perfect for the department head, you thought. The minute he shut the door behind him, he sighed and ran his hand down his face.

"Well, first of all, 'Hey Oscar, how are you?' I'm great. Thanks for asking," He sarcastically quipped. “Would you like some coffee? Maybe some tea, if you’re cutting back on your habit, again?”

"Small talk is redundant," you handed him your papers, "you know why I'm here."

He plopped down in the plush chair behind his desk, and you followed suit on the couch beside it. His chair creaked as he leaned back and thumbed through the pages, reading his own notes. You couldn't quite get a read on his perception, but he hummed in thought. After a couple of minutes he handed your work back to you and shrugged.

"In simple terms: it's mechanical. You’re holding back on putting emotion into your characters. Your protagonist's factory worker father and merchant marine brother don’t feel real. It's too matter-of-fact. Too cold."

You shook your head in frustration, "I don't understand. First, you tell me that my language is too flowery. Now you're saying it's too mechanical. Which is it? Pick a criticism, because now it just feels like you're pulling it out of your ass."

The words slipped out before you could catch them, and your eyes widened in surprise at the venom laced in your tone. But, to your surprise, Oscar just laughed.

"Look, find a middle ground. I don't know how else to state it any plainer than I already have."

You wondered if you'd get expelled for throwing his briefcase out the window.

"I'm glad you think your bias is funny."

His expression changed at the implication, and he stared at you in confusion.

"Bias? Jesus, is that what you think?"

The words you'd been holding in for the majority of the semester came spilling out of you.

"I feel like you don't really respect me as a writer," you crossed your arms, "You think I'm stupid. Or incompetent. But this right here," you motioned to the paper in your lap, "This is just ridiculous. It's nitpicking and tearing my work to shreds. Do you get something out of this? This story means a lot to me. It's the story of my family. Do you understand the level of research and reading it took to bring this work into fruition? With all due respect, it's fucking hard, Oscar. I'm doing the best I can."

He merely stared at you with furrowed brows, "With as long as my tenure has been—for as long as you’ve known me, you think I don't know this?" He stood up from his chair and sat on the edge of his desk in front of you, "You think this problem is unique to you? I aim to challenge all of my students."

You laughed humorlessly, "I've seen the notes you write on other people's stories. It's nowhere near the same level of harsh."

"To you, it may not be."

"I still don't understand what you want from me. More details. Less details. More emotion. Less emotion. Descriptors, but not too descriptive. Make your characters realistic, but oh no, not too mundane. It's all bullshit--"

"It's missing the essence of you." He confessed, scratching his bearded chin, "Your story reads like something anyone could write. The only personal touches in your story--and if you notice, the only things I haven't edited much--are your letters and journal entries. They give a clear idea of how your characters interact with one another. And I think you add a little bit of yourself to them, outside of the narrative.

"Your voice is prevalent in everything you write. Unique and intuitive. Your work isn’t you, Bee. I miss...that."

There was a pregnant pause. Your stomach swooped at the slip of your old nickname, and you crossed your legs to stop the nervous fidgeting. He swallowed hard, and toyed with the watch on his wrist.

"I think..." you began, meeting his eyes for the first time, "I think I'm subconsciously trying to sound like you. Even though you piss me off."

He barked out a laugh, "I don't know if that's a compliment or a testament to how I can improve."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. He soldiered on.

"You're a brilliant writer. I just know you can do better," he drummed his fingers on his desk. Suddenly he grinned at you, "You've read my writing? You like my writing? And you're admitting it freely? And here I was thinking you hated me." Now it was your turn to furrow your brows in confusion. Catching your expression, he explained, "Every time I look at you, you either look bored, lost in your own thoughts, or like you want to murder me. And then there's the arguing--"

"I don't hate you, Oscar. You just exhaust me." You said, standing up to meet him at eye level. "You'd argue with you, too. You can't always be the only sarcastic asshole in the room."

He looked at you with a mix of amusement and what you could only describe as relief. He leaned forward, letting out a deep breath he seemed to be holding the entire time. You were close enough to smell his favorite dark roast coffee and his signature cologne--something bold, but warm and comfy. Kind of like him.

"Did you have any other questions? About the thesis or...something? You know you can ask me anything." he crossed his arms over his chest. Was he flexing? The thought tickled you.

"Just one. But not about the thesis." You asked, gently, taking a step towards him, "You said every time you look at me, I look pensive. How often do you look at me?"

He eyed you slowly. Fire danced behind his gaze, despite his calm demeanor. It reminded you of the look on his face when he read a moving sonnet or recited romantic prose. The sight of him looking at you like his favorite work of art made your belly warm. After a beat of silence that dragged on for ages, he licked his lips and shook his head, finally tearing his eyes away from you. He murmured, "More often than I should." Then he sighed, "We shouldn't be having this conversation. I'm not--it's..."

"No you're right," you began, feeling the rush of bravery trickling from your quickly beating heart, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You could never do that. It's just not professional--"

"It's SUPER unprofessional actually--"

"--you could lose your grant and--"

"--you JUST finalized the divorce--"

"--implicit bias and difficulty being objective--"

"--it's just a passing thought."

He pushed away from the desk, taking a step closer to you, and grabbed a fistful of his hair.

"Maybe..." he cleared his throat, "you might want to...go."

You nodded, "I should leave."

"I could walk you out."

Neither of you made another move and his fingers tapped on his thigh. You watched his eyes travel from your face and down your body, as if he could see right through your clothes.

"Are you?"

He was so close that you could count every single strand of hair in his thick, coarse beard.

"Am I...?" He questioned, eyes dropping to your lips.

"Going to walk me out?" You finished. You could see him weighing his options. He glanced at the door, then back at you.

“I…it’s—” He sighed again, “I miss you, Bee.”

You wanted to get mad and tell him that he wasn’t allowed to do this. You felt stupid for being so easily baited by a smile and sharp wit. Instead of being smart and telling him to fuck off, you shook your head.

“You miss feeling wanted,” you corrected, “You don’t miss me.”

“You don’t know how wrong that is. Do you know how many times I’ve gone out with other women and found myself thinking ‘I wonder what Bee’s doing right now. Is she with someone else? Am I making a mistake?’” He removed a carton of cigarettes from his pocket and tossed it on the desk, “I thought I was making a good choice. Clearly, that wasn’t the case.”

“A good choice for who, exactly?” You asked, eyeing him with skepticism.

“For both of us. For you.”

You could admit that hooking up with him while he was in the process of a divorce was messy. For the brief 3 months you were together over the summer, you couldn’t stop being doubtful. It blurred the lines of whether he was fucking his sadness away or if he truly had feelings for you. You felt your fingers twitch as if they wanted to reach out and grab him. Instead, you shoved your traitorous hand into your back pocket. You were petty enough to not be the first one to make a move.

“The thing is, Oscar, I’m a grown woman and I don’t need you to make decisions for me.” You countered, “I might be younger, sure, but I’m not a kid.”

“I know.” He agreed, quietly.

“You said you wanted time to process things—”

“33 Weeks,” he said, suddenly, “An arduous, sunless, painful 33 weeks without you. I never fully understood the pain of missing you until I was forced to see you and not touch you. Every time you speak or look at me or challenge me, I feel even more stupid for letting you go.”

You couldn’t help yourself, “You are stupid.”

You cracked a smile at him and he smiled back, eyes crinkling at the corners behind his frames. He reached out and caressed your face, tracing a calloused thumb along your cheek and resting his forehead against yours.

“Goddamn you’re beautiful,” he groaned, slowly closing his eyes. You could trace every wrinkle, freckle, and scar with a finger from memory, if you wanted to. The spearmint gum he favored between smoke breaks tickled your nose, and his hand slipped down to the point where your throat met your clavicle.

You were keenly aware that your pulse was thrumming rapidly under his pen-calloused fingers, and that your chest rose and fell in quick succession. You closed the space between you, pulling him in for a deep kiss. The traitorous hand that freed itself from the confines of your pocket curled into his sweater. Oscar's arm snaked around your waist and the hand near your throat tightened, pulling a low, strained moan out of you. He mockingly mimicked your moan and pulled away to kiss along your jaw.

"You need to be a little quiet, Bee," he nipped at your skin and you smiled, "you don't want the others to hear, do you?"

You opened your eyes to meet his gaze, and you knew he could see the devilish glint dancing in them.

"I mean, I can try."

When you stretched out over his tidy mahogany desk and he pushed your legs apart, hiking your skirt over your ass, you couldn't help the self-satisfied grin that pulled at your lips. You wanted this for so long. You craved it. None of the toys in your nightstand could compare to the feeling of his strong hands on your thighs and the feel of his tongue teasing you open.

"Oh my god...look at you," he sighed, burying his face deep between your legs. You giggled, running your fingers through his curls to grab a handful and pulling a soft groan from his lips. Your hips twitched when he pressed a firm thumb against the front of your panties. The way his breath hitched left a deeper feeling of longing that seemed alien to you. And as he peeled the fabric to the side and spread you open to him, his free hand gripped your thigh greedily and hiked your leg up with your knee to your chest.

You felt your heart thrumming in your ears with anticipation and the major thrill of someone potentially walking in on you with his head between your legs. He wrapped his lips around you, swirling his tongue in small quick circles in that same way you loved and could never quite get used to. Your mouth fell open as the haze of ecstacy started to cloud any thoughts that weren't about him.

"I needed you." You whispered, gently scratching his scalp, "I needed you so bad."

He hummed, moaning against you and tickling your inner thighs with the soft hair of his beard. You peered down at him to watch him devour you like a starving man's first meal. He'd taken his glasses off, and you could see the way his lashes fluttered in complete bliss as he dipped his tongue into you. He looked up at you and locked eyes just as a shrill moan threatened to burst from your lips. You quickly covered your mouth and you felt him smile at you. He pulled away, replacing his mouth with his thick fingers. With each flick of the hand he watched you arch your back off his desk and scramble to grab onto something...anything to ground you.

He sharply pulled you closer to the edge of the desk and hoisted your other knee up to your chest, leaving you completely exposed to him and anyone that could walk in the room. He teased you with the tip of his tongue, watching you squirm impatiently before he curled his tongue against your clit.

He'd been dreaming of seeing you like this. But even his dreams couldn't live up to the reality of how sweet you tasted and the look of nirvana on your face. He He could hear the sharp intake of breath and the small whimpers you earnestly tried to swallow down. He wanted to tell you to be as loud as you wanted. Fuck the rules and anyone who heard. But that'd be stupid.

And you didn't deserve stupid.

He found that perfect sensitive spot that made you smack the desk with your hand and try to wriggle away from his mouth, but he pulled you closer.

"Mm-mm, no running." He mumbled nipping your thigh. He returned his lips to you, sucking you slowly between his lips. Your chest heaved, and you scrambled to figure out what to do with your hands. When you reached down to press his face harder between your thighs, he let himself release a low, muffled groan. He needed you so fucking badly. He wanted to stretch this out for as long as he could, but he knew that was impossible.

He wanted to make the most out of the limited time he had with you.

He pulled his mouth away and dipped his fingers into you, coaxing you closer to the edge. And when he leaned forward to kiss you, you pulled him in hungrily, wrapping your thighs around his hips and undoing his belt with quick fingers. He pulled away to look you over once again: your hair was a mess, your lips were swollen, your eyes were glazed, and you looked fucking beautiful. You reached up to stroke his cheek.

"What?" You asked, scrunching your nose at him.

"Are you sure?"

"About?"

His hand remained splayed on your lower stomach and your fingers were hooked in the waistband of his boxers. You sat up and he leaned forward to press his forehead against yours.

Oscar murmured, "Bee, if we do this, I'm not going back to keeping my distance. I'm going to fuck you in every corner of this office. I'm going to want you again," He kissed you, "and again," another kiss, "and again."

You absentmindedly brushed your fingers against his lower stomach and traced the outline of his dick through his boxers. "And on the weekends?"

You dipped your hand behind his waistband, and pulled it down to wrap your hand around him. He hissed sharply, shutting his eyes.

"Shit, honey..." he groaned. "I'm all yours."

You slowly stroked him, watching him melt under your touch. For a moment you could see the younger version of him, just as handsome but not nearly as refined as he liked to present himself in public. His salt and pepper curls were no longer neatly styled and you saw the hint of flush peeking out from under his olive skin. His perfect mouth fell open as you traced the swollen head of him with your thumb.

When you finally took a breath and felt him guide himself into you, that familiar flutter in your lower stomach made you bite your lower lip. A deep shudder wracked both of your bodies like your first hit of a long abandoned drug. He kept the pace slow and steady, focusing on the way you felt around him and trying to keep it to memory like he'd never experience it again.

You pulled him down for another deep kiss, wanting a connection with him in every way possible. You noticed the brief way his strokes faltered, and the way he grabbed your thighs to pull them around his hips to push deeper into you and at just the right angle to make you cry out.

"Right there," you pleaded, arching your hips up to angle him deeper, "God, rightthere rightthere rightthere."

He grunted, dropping his head onto your shoulder as he picked up the rhythm of his hips. "You're perfect for me. You're fucking perfect, angel. I'm never letting you go again."

You tried to form coherent thoughts and words, but everything turned to a sludge of gibberish on your tongue.

You hated the way that he seemed to know you like a familiar map. It was so easy to drown in him. When you reached down to touch yourself, he grabbed your hand and pinned it to the desk, interlacing your fingers. He dipped his free hand between you, choosing to tease your clit with his thumb while he picked up the pace of his strokes.

"Did you miss this, Bee?" He murmured under his breath.

You nodded, allowing your eyes to drift closed.

"No, baby, look at me." He commanded.

You did as you were told, looking deep into his gorgeous dark eyes that seemed to read you from the inside out.

"Did you miss me?"

"I missed this so much." you moaned, feeling the warmth building in your lower tummy.

He thrust into you sharply and a shrill cry rang out that you were sure echoed into the hallway. You nearly slammed your head into the desk with the force that your body jolted. The sensitivity was almost overwhelming and when you tried to scoot away again, he gave you another smack on the thigh.

"What did I say about running?" He let go of your hand to pull your thighs tighter around him as he drove into you with renewed vigor. His jaw clenched as he focused on your building pleasure. Thumb returned to your clit. Your mouth dropped open, but nothing came out but a strangled gasp. His thumb sped up between your thighs and you let out a string of slurred words as your hips shook.

"Fuck, I love you so much, oh God, oh God. I fucking love you."

"This is yours, now. It's all yours. Nobody else's." He breathlessly whispered against your cheek.

You reached down to grab his hand almost begging him for reprieve that you knew he wouldn't give you. You tightened around him and he sucked air sharply between his teeth, which only gave him more determination to push you over the edge. You pulled him down into a kiss just as the wave of pleasure crashed over you and you drowned your cry into his mouth. His strokes grew sloppy and erratic as you rolled your hips against him with equal force.

"Come on baby," you cooed to him, curling your fingers into his hair and giving it a sharp tug. He buried his head into your shoulder and let out a low, deep grunt as he came. You felt him press small kisses along your neck, trailing them up your chin and to your lips. After taking a minute to get his bearings, he reluctantly pulled out with a low shuddering breath. He kissed you again, and you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders enjoying the feeling of his hands on you.

After some brief, very gentle aftercare, you helped each other get redressed, sharing kisses and touches along the way.

"So..." he leaned up against his desk, cleaning off his glasses to put them back on, "am I seeing you tomorrow?"

You gave him a slow, deep kiss and his hands traveled to your ass, "If I'm up all night revising with your stupid edits, we'll see how I feel. No guarantees, though."

[starbeltconstellation]

So I gotta ask, do you have any headcannons(or cannons I guess since you're the author) about Melanie and Anakin that you can share without spoilers to much.

I'm going through Rewrite the stars withdrawal lol

Awww, thank you so very much for the ask, dear! (And so sorry again about your Rewrite the Stars withdrawal. 😭 Things have been crazyyy in my life. My bro was in the hospital for a while, but he’s okay now though. Also just me fighting my never ending depression spells 🙃). 😅😂

I would be happy to offer some “head” canons! Or canons, technically, as you said. 😂 Lol.

Essentially, this has become like one big, long SW meta analysis and meta analysis on my SW fic, Rewrite the Stars, and Anakin and Melanie’s characters. Sorry for the long response. 😭 I got really into explaining my thoughts. Haha.

I’ll put this under a read more, as it’s VERYYY long:

I’ll just say that the entire reason I started this story is because well, I wanted a fix it fic of course. 😂 But also just because I wanted to write this kind of grand, epic tale in general, just like Star Wars is supposed to be.

A lot of fics I’ve seen like this completely demonize the Jedi most of the time and blame them for their own genocide. And the ones that don’t, also flip it the complete opposite way around and demonize Anakin to where he’s nothing but a cackling demon who kicks puppies for fun (and well… would he do that AFTER the prequel trilogy when he’s in his emo Darth Vader era? Probably. 😂 But he wouldn’t be CACKLING while doing it. He’d be very bitter and callous about it, because Anakin likes to take out his anger on the world when he’s in pain, so by GOD the entire galaxy is gonna be in pain along with him).

But anyways, I’m kinda getting off track.

My point is: the whole reason I started my SW fic is because I wanted to write the type of epic, grand tale of a fic that I’ve been looking for that treats all of its characters with love and respect while ALSO still calling out their flaws and allowing them to grow. That includes everyone: Anakin, Padmé, Ahsoka, Barriss, Mace, Obi-Wan, Dooku, Satine, etc—EVERYONE.

I feel like fandom has become this toxic environment where if you’re criticizing a character, then… (le gasp 😱)… you don’t really LIKE themmm. (Untrue. 😂).

I love, love, LOVE Anakin. He is my hot, insane, child killing bastard of a mans.

… But I also hate him too. 😭😂

I HATE what he’s done and what he believes in after the war and how he just wallows like a child in his pain. I HATE how selfish he is (while at the same time heavily relate to his fear of death and losing those he loves to them dying/growing older). And I also HATE how damn close he was to making a better choice, but he DIDN’T, because in the end, it didn’t MATTER if Anakin technically knew the ‘right’ way to act. He purposely went against it, because he was just too selfish to let go of Padmé (he kinda did a self fulfilling prophecy with her death, but we’re not gonna talk about that part right now), and so he decided his happiness meant more than the entire galaxy, and burned down his childhood home like a school shooter and helped genocide his friends just for the CHANCE to save his wife.

And all of this, in the usual fics I’ve seen, can somehow be undone, just by changing a few little moments in Anakin’s life where he doesn’t get his feelings hurt: ie; Obi-Wan faking his death, Ahsoka leaving the Order/being framed by Barriss, or Mace/Qui-Gon/whoever-the-fuck-you-want-to-say being assigned as his Master instead of Obi-Wan.

And just… no. 😂

As shown through this wonderful SW blog here:

Anakin doesn’t do what he did because, oh, “This, this, and THIS happened to him”, and if you take that away and help him avoid it, he’ll suddenly change and be all warm and fuzzy inside and won’t burn the whole fucking galaxy just because HE cannot handle Padmé (MAYBE) dying and leaving him alone (when he wouldn’t even really BE alone, but Anakin also clearly puts Padmé/romantic love above all else. He might care for his friends and family, but he’d throw them all under the bus if it came down to the wire between them and Padmé). This is something I will go into in the fic as Anakin slowly starts to take a look at himself as he realizes: “wait… wtf? Do I even KNOW what Rex does outside of work? 🤔😨” for him to realize that he’s so obsessive over one person… that everyone else is slowly becoming put to the wayside.

Stopping one or two little things in Anakin’s life during the Clone Wars isn’t going to magically make him see the light and not be a currently ticking time bomb.

That is not how change WORKS. Not REAL change anyway. All of the fics I’ve seen written, usually hand wave a lot of Anakin’s misdeeds and flaws away, and pretend like if you hold Anakin’s hand through certain parts of the war and help him avoid THESE certain moments, that he’ll suddenly just magically become a better person who understands what being selfless and less greedy actually means.

That… is not true change. TRUE change is Anakin HIMSELF realizing slowly but surely as the war goes on that he’s slowly becoming someone he doesn’t recognize in the mirror anymore (*cough* Mel line drop from upcoming chapter? 👀✨ *cough*). TRUE change is Anakin HIMSELF working through his flaws and inner demons, before he gradually begins to realize with a sense of sickening horror that he has been WRONG: ie; massacring an entire Tusken village down to the last child while never telling another soul except Padmé about it and whistling happily to himself without a care in the world as the war rages on.

TRUE change (as you might’ve started to guess from the most recent chapter of my fic) is Anakin HIMSELF slowly but surely starting to question his actions, by comparing them to other people he respects and cares for.

Which brings us to your question on “headcanons”.

The entire purpose of the relationship between Melanie and Anakin (besides me living vicariously through her 😂) is that they are a MIRROR for each other.

Melanie and Anakin, while very different, aren’t COMPLETE and total opposites. There are purposeful parallels between them: their moms, their care of droids, their fear of losing those they love to death, and the PURPOSEFUL CHOICE GIVEN TO MELANIE BY THE SHOPKEEPER 👀 that parallels the choice Anakin is given at the end of ROTS by Palpatine himself in their choice to help the galaxy or be selfish and choose themselves/their own wants instead.

There is a quote I have based their relationship off of. I will share it here (if you are still with me, because I know I ramble a lot 😅😂):

People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake.

—Elizabeth Gilbert

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Melanie and Anakin are meant to have parallel journeys, even though their personalities are very different. But it’s more than that: their fatal flaws are in direct conflict with each other.

Anakin’s fatal flaw is: greed/selfishness.

Melanie’s fatal flaw is: fear/judgement.

BUT as they are forced into working together… the more they interact with each other… the more their fatal flaws are FORCED to be challenged by the other.

Anakin’s more selfish nature is challenged more and more by just being in Melanie’s presence and watching how she acts with complete compassion and selflessness in certain situations, which makes him slowly start to look at himself internally and take a look at his own actions and thoughts, gradually beginning to realize how selfish he’s slowly become without even realizing it.

Melanie, in turn, has the purposeful flaw of judgment, which can make her self righteous at times (even if she IS correct most of the time 😂), and also the flaw of fear, which as readers have seen, makes her a bit more cautious than she should be in her actions on trying to outsmart Palpatine to save the galaxy.

It’s kind of ironic: just being AROUND Anakin slowly begins to challenge Melanie’s fatal flaws (since she was completely fucking terrified of him the very first moment she realized she was in the SW universe and realized Anakin/Darth Vader was real now 😂). She sees things in such a black and white way at first, but as time goes on, Anakin’s need to be gentle with her and prove himself to Mel, makes her question her judgment with him, which allows her the ability to give him a chance. In turn, just being in his PRESENCE challenges her other fatal flaw on fear, since he’s a walking nightmare PTSD trigger for her pounding heart (and not always in the fun way 👀💓❤️‍🔥☠️😂).

Anyway, my point is that they aren’t just meant to be together romantically to be TOGETHER. It’s because I have purposefully tried to develop a romantic slow burn relationship that comes with my story to weave itself against the original theme of Rewrite the Stars, which is this: TRUE change and atonement/redemption.

Anakin physically CANNOT get closer to Mel, until he forced himself to take a step back and give her some space. If he wants to get anywhere with her, he HAS to start looking internally at himself to try and change and be more gentle with her.

Melanie, in turn, CANNOT outsmart Palpatine and win the war without Anakin’s help and working together with him over the next three years of The Clone Wars. She HAS to get past her judgment and allow herself to swallow her terror enough to give him a chance, because she NEEDS him to win.

This is a chess match between her and Palpatine, remember? And if you lose the king, you lose the game.

ANAKIN is the king. 👀

I bet you can’t guess what chess piece Melanie is. 😂 Lol.

Anyway, I feel like I’ve done a whole lot of taking in circles (sorry about that 😅), because I wanted to go ahead and explain my whole process for this fic while I had the time, so I can also refer this post if I ever need to again.

Now! Getting into some more FUN Stuff:

Idk if you’ve looked up my fic on Wattpad, but I have a lot of cool graphics posted there from my mind and from other artists/authors that have gifted me such wonderful cover art ( @shoniwake ! 👀✨❤️), and in a certain subsection, I have a whole playlist page dedicated as a type of ‘outline’ for the entire story of my fic (fair warning, it’s a lot 😅), just because I think it helps me with planning stuff out.

I won’t tell you all of them, of course. But I’ll share a few of my favorite songs that I always think are the PERFECT songs for Melanie and Anakin’s relationship and their slow burn romantic development. 😭🥺💔❤️💕✨

Innocence by Nathan Wagner

Stronger Together by Lou & SQVARE

Now I See by Lou & SQVARE

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I love these three songs so much, because of their theme of two people coming together as a team and/or learning to open up their hearts to the other and to help the other person the see world in a different way. 🥹❤️💕

This is basically what I want for Melanie and Anakin. Their relationship isn’t just about having a romance in the story (although that’s part of it. Haha 😂💕). It’s about how their relationship meshes in with the rest of the themes of the story: TRUE change and growth into something better.

Melakin is purposely written to be in direct contrast to Anidala (which is still written with care and not erasing their genuine affection, by the way! I think it’s extremely lazy writing to write a canon relationship OOC just to prop up your OC’s own), which shows the difference between a more healthy developing relationship that is based on genuine care and respect (Melakin) and in contrast with one that is more based around idealizing the other person/ignoring their faults and putting them up on a pedestal that is sure to lead to disappointment (Anidala).

This is, as you know from reading the fic, slowly starting to be shown in how Anidala acts with each other in their trash fire (in my opinion! Don’t kill meeee! 🙌😂) of a marriage, which has them basically talking past each other/not really caring about anything that isn’t SPECIFICALLY RELEVANT to the other person (ie; them. Not anything with their family or job. Just THEM. Because while the love is genuine, it’s also eerily obsessive, which was GL’s whole point of them being star crossed lovers that burn out from their own flawed choices in regards to being together and trying to have it all).

This is also shown in my fic with Melakin vs Anidala contrasting each other in Anakin’s choices and how he interacts with them. Anakin REMEMBERS stuff about Mel’s life and choices that really he has no need to care about, but he does anyway. In contrast, there is a scene in the latest chapter of my SW fic where Anakin forgets a very… important member… of Padmé’s family 😭 (If you know, you know 👀🫣😬). 😂

I guess what I’m saying is is that I’m trying to not PREACH to the readers of my fic. I’m trying to write scenes that SHOW them what I believe to be true in regards to Anidala’s toxic relationship/the Jedi being scapegoats that everyone cruelly blames for their own genocide/how the Jedi culture might not be how THE READERS want to live, but it doesn’t change the fact that it IS a valid culture/way to live, and it doesn’t deserve to be eradicated just because you don’t understand/like/agree with it.

I’m trying to lead up into the themes and lessons of my fic as I go along, is what I’m saying. 😂 Which is a really heavy feat, considering how long it’ll end up being as a grand, epic tale. 😩

And a big part of the theme of my SW Fic: genuine change and growth into something better than you were before (ie; TRUE redemption) cannot happen to Anakin as easily as some of the time travel fix-it fics/other fix-it fics I’ve seen written on A03 before. Changing a few little things so Anakin doesn’t have to deal with a few moments in his life is not GENUINE and TRUE change. What that is is essentially placation. It’s PLACATING and CODDLING someone dangerous, which allows them (for the MOMENT) to calm down, because they are generally happy and have the things they want and aren’t under stress like Anakin was in the ending of ROTS when there was nobody there to hold his hand for him to ‘guide’ him in the right direction.

For TRUE change and redemption to happen for Anakin, he has to admit to himself that he was WRONG.

He has to ADMIT and ACKNOWLEDGE that actions he has taken are horrific (the Tusken Massacre), and accept people’s/the Jedi’s judgment on it without becoming defensive and acting like he’s being unfairly attacked and punished for something not that big of a deal. He has to ADMIT and ACKNOWLEDGE that his thought process has slowly but surely become corrupted over the years without him even realizing it, whether that’s from the war or Palpatine stroking his ego or from the trauma of his childhood making him cling to things too hard—it doesn’t really matter. He has to RECOGNIZE that he has become someone over the years that he can’t even recognize in the mirror in relation to that little nine year old boy on Tatooine (about how selfish he has become), and what he can do to change that.

I know some fans will think I am attacking Anakin and that I hate him or something (and well… I DO hate him… but I also love him 🫣☠️❤️😂), but that is not the case. I LOVE Anakin’s character and truly relate to him on such a deep level in terms of how terrified he is of losing the people he loves to death. I can recognize myself and some of my worst fears deeply in him.

However, at the same time, I can also acknowledge that Anakin’s trauma from his childhood (from slavery/his mother dying in front of him), has essentially made his entire personality completely self serving. Because yes, Anakin can care about other people. He cares about and loves his friends. He’d do anything he could to keep them from harm (at least in TCW era 🥶☠️), but the hard truth is… he doesn’t think of his relationships and saving them from death in terms of what his LOVED ONES deserve or what THEY will lose if they die. He thinks about it in terms of what HE will lose if they die.

He straight up says it in the scene with Mace and then the scene with Palpatine: He NEEDS to keep Palpatine (who he KNOWS is an evil Sith Lord) alive, because it’s the only way he can keep Padmé alive. HE can’t live without HER.

There’s genuine love there. I am not denying that. Anakin isn’t a cackling villain like Palpatine (it’s the whole reason Anakin CAN be talked into coming back to the Light Side by Luke, whereas Palpatine would melt Luke’s fucking face off without hesitation if he tried). He cares and loves his family and friends and wife and kids… in a TOXIC way. In an OBSESSIVE way. In a way that is essentially all about HIM: ie; selfish.

Example 1:

Out of context, this sounds very romantic and simply just a reasonable amount of worry. But in relation to all the other things Anakin will end up saying while referring to Padmé as essentially a possession, I’m placing it here anyway as perhaps a sign of his darkening thoughts.

Example 2:

Yes, yes, I knowwww… some of you ladies will be like: 🥺💔 at the sad murder puppy moment. And I suppose it’s still very evil wet cat bastard level/blorbo of him in a intoxicating way for people who want to feel loved—at the same time, he’s essentially saying: look, man, I don’t care if I gotta murder some kids and betray my friends and descend the galaxy and Republic into darkness (which I know my wife will be fucking horrified at). It’s very important that I DO NOT have to deal with this pain, okay?? 😭 Everyone else can be in pain, but not meeee. I’ll crush and stab my friends in the back just so I won’t be left alone from my wife dying.

Very sad. Very wet cat villain blorbo of him.

And yet—VERY selfish and evil. 😭🤷‍♀️👀😂

He’s essentially saying—fuck the galaxy. Let me get mine, and I’ll go home. ☠️

Example 3:

This one’s pretty obvious. By this point, he’s lost his shit. His mind’s already cracking at the seams as he tries to keep justifying the actions he’s taken, which will eventually lead into his 20 year long dissociation where he essentially goes, “Nahhh, that wasn’t meee. That was DARTH VADER. Anakin didn’t do that, because ANAKIN is still a good person (he mutters to himself over and over like a maniac at night in his emo villain lair), whereas I AM THE DARK INCARNATE. 😌🖤” so he doesn’t have to admit to himself that HE—yes, THAT he, Anakin fucking Skywalker—has become an actual terrible fucking person with no heart. 🤷‍♀️😭😬

I don’t see why this is so hard for SW fandom to get. It’s a METAPHOR George Lucas uses to say Darth Vader killed Anakin (and also just a way to plug up the plot hole of what Obi-Wan originally told Luke in the first movie). It doesn’t mean that Anakin’s consciousness is sleeping inside Vader’s head like a fucking cat. Lmao. 😭

Not only would that not make SENSE in terms of how GL wrote it, but it also just essentially makes Anakin’s ‘redemption’ (I don’t really view it as a true redemption. More like just the Christian version of salvation for his soul by the skin of his teeth. Although GL did say Anakin was redeemed in the eyes of LUKE only, because he said some crap about being redeemed in the eyes of our children) all but useless. 😭 You can’t say on one hand that Darth Vader’s ‘redemption’ is the most iconic one of all time, while at the same time saying on the other hand that “Anakin never did any of those things. It was DaRtH VaDeR! 🤪🤪🤪” because then you’re essentially absolving Anakin of all of his crimes while on the Dark Side, and if Anakin is absolved of all of his crimes… then wtf is there TO make him the most iconic ‘redemption’ of all time??? 😭🤷‍♀️ I mean, like—what IS there to ‘redeem’ at that point??? Ya can’t have both, kids. Lol. 😂

This is also essentially what Anakin wanted in terms of his relationship with Padmé and the Jedi Order. He wanted it ALL. He wanted BOTH. Sureee, he TALKED about quitting the Jedi Order eventually after the war to be with Padmé in a little space cottage. But could he WALK THE WALK? Could he really give up the thrill of chasing an enemy, or the twitch of his fingers in reaching for his lightsaber? 😑🤔 Me myself has some doubtssss.

He wanted it ALL. He wanted to be married while ALSO having the strength and power that came from being a Jedi Knight. He didn’t WANT to choose. He even SAYS it.

Example 4: Essentially this SW meme

He doesn’t want to CHOOSE. And it’s why it’s BS when it’s argued he was put in this position by the Council’s rules on marriage, because it’s LITERALLY just like a vow of a priest at a Catholic Church. They can’t marry either, just like the Jedi Order. BUT (unlike what fandom likes to believe), the Order isn’t some cult, and you are free to leave at any time (and hell, they’ll even build a statue after you leave, apparently, if the one they built of Dooku that’s in the Archives (I think) is anything to go by), just as a priest is free to leave the Catholic Church at any time. Because it’s a COMMITMENT to that place. And people might think it’s dumb/stupid/not like it—or even understand it! And you don’t HAVE to like something from a religion/culture/belief, or understand something, to still respect it (another theme drop for the next chapter of my SW fic? 👀😂).

So, what some people will probably wonder is—“But, Starbelt! (Le gasp 😱) Then how is the Jedi culture going to be respected in my fic, if Melakin is still endgame at the end of their slow, slow burn?”

And to that question, I say, “I am not a by-the-book-to-the-very-LETTER interpreter of the Jedi Code (although I’m not saying the code of an entire culture is gonna be ‘changed’ for legit one person/couple. Lmao. 🤦‍♀️🤷‍♀️😂), but I AM a Jedi lover who is of the belief that—even if you don’t completely AGREE or even UNDERSTAND the Jedi Order and their code—it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t be difficult to respect it. It shouldn’t be difficult to not scold a culture on their beliefs, while essentially saying that belief is the reason it is ‘good’ for The Force/galaxy that they were genocided as a ‘clean slate’. 😬🤦‍♀️☠️”

What I WILL say, is that I am going to explore the Jedi Order and the different interpretations of the Code and The Force in general in this fic, and what that means in terms of coexistence, instead of the frankly childish notion of just painting an entire culture as emotionless and wrong in their beliefs, like they are some kind of stuck up, snooty and rich culture that ‘deserved what they got’. 🙄🤦‍♀️😬☠️

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ANYWAY, back to my point with Anakin, and how my fic is trying to complete the most massive and epic of all writing tasks: making Anakin slowly change and grow out of his greed and selfishness into a better person in such an organic way, that perhaps may one day be compared with the likes of Zuko’s redemption from ATLA (I know, I knowww. Pretty high hopes for myself. Lol. 😂).

So, essentially, in the original “timeline” of ROTS, Anakin is freaking losing it, and since nobody is there to hold his hand, he descends right into the core selfishness that is buried inside of him, where he basically just decides, “Fuck it,” and throws all of his morals out the window so he can keep himself from the pain of losing Padmé (ie; it’s really about HIM and his fear, and not about Padmé deserving to live and see more beauty in the world) by cutting off Mace’s hand to stop him from killing Palpatine, because—in Anakin’s OWN words:

Example 5:

Like… 🤷‍♀️😭.

People like to sing “Lalalala,” and plug their ears by pretending Anakin is just so shocked in this scene (le gasp 😱) that Mace is being so UN-JEDI-LIKE, and that it just convinced him that the Jedi Order truly has been ‘corrupted’. 🤦‍♀️🙄

Now see… that might hold some water if Anakin literally didn’t scream “I NeEd HiM! 😡” at Mace like an unhinged five year old, which literally PROVES that the only reason Anakin wants Mace to keep Palpatine alive and not to kill the guy yet is because he needs to learn the super-secret-Dark-Side-magicy way of how to save himself from the pain of losing Padmé to dying in childbirth.

… Because like some may recall, Anakin LITERALLY beheaded Dooku himself all but like… what? 12 hours ago? 😭🤦‍♀️

Essentially, this meme:

So, essentially, what I’m getting at here is: Anakin is a goddamn hypocrite. 😂

Now, in relation to my SW fic? What I essentially am TRYING to accomplish, is to have Anakin slowly CHANGE HIMSELF as the war goes on and he interacts more with Melanie and witnesses her compassion, while in turn comparing her actions to his own.

Melanie isn’t supposed to ‘fix’ or ‘change’ Anakin. Anakin is supposed to be INSPIRED to change from how he grows to care and admire Mel’s choices and who she is inside her heart as the Clone Wars rages on.

I do all of this, so in the HOPES that when he is presented with this scene again, it makes perfect sense to all readers of my fic that his choice may become different—essentially choosing for ONCE, a more selfless route, out of no expectation that he will gain anything in return (that only happens with Luke like—20 years later—and it’s not like he had many other options at that point. 😭🤷‍♀️ Lol.).

(And as I said—MAY become different… 👀 After all, Melanie still has a long way to go before the end of the war… 👀)

But yeah—that’s my plans with my SW Anakin x OC Fic, Rewrite the Stars, and how I’m planning it and Melakin’s relationship to go. I placed a big feat on myself. 😂❤️💕

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If you wanna see some of my like… ideas/notes on what I have planned to eventually place in there somewhere, I will show you a few things, because it’s not really SPOILERS, since I already talk about the Jedi genocide a lot anyway (it drives me up the wall when SW fandom refers to it as ThE FaLl Of ThE jEdi 🤪🤪🤪). Guess it makes it easier to blame them all for their own deaths that way if you refer to their genocide and slaughter as a “fall”. 😭🙄 Idk. 🤷‍♀️

I also have some stuff with the history of Churches splitting into different factions (ie: The Great Schism of 1054), which I will be weaving in as a parallel at some point. 👀👀 I will not explain why, as that would be too spoilery, but I’m sure some of my more in depth analysis readers on my work could guess if they thought about it hard enough… 👀

There are also some comparisons on the Jedi genocide in the SW universe, and how it parallels the Air Nomad genocide in the ATLA universe pretty much to a T in terms of how fast it all happens in one day, and also how any survivors were hunted down and lured out with relics of their own culture, not to MENTION just the fact that both of these cultures are just non-western inspired in general (seriously, what is with people and killing monks in Temples? Lol. 🤷‍♀️😂). It’s also just an interesting comparison in general, because where the ATLA fandom usually is quite sympathetic to the Air Nomad genocide, on the other hand, the SW fandom is so nauseatingly nonchalant and cruel about the Jedi Order’s genocide that it’s almost downright weird. It’s almost like the SW fandom has this THING about never calling the Jedi’s “Fall 🙄” what it actually was—a horrific genocide. I swear to Godddd, SW fandom must be allergic to the word. 😂🤦‍♀️

I also threw in the ‘Hero’s journey’ thing I’ve been using for Melanie to try and make her a relatable protagonist, while also still having her own character arc along with Anakin’s. It was really important to me that she had her OWN arc away from Anakin, and that she had more connections and relationships in the SW universe than just him. Not only does it weaken her character if she had been made to be all about HIM, but it also just makes a certain… choice… 👀… with The Shopkeeper (her antagonist who parallels Palpatine, Anakin’s antagonist) hit all the more harder, because saving the ENTIRE GALAXY isn’t even about saving ANAKIN at all for her. Not at first, anyway.

Instead, from the very beginning, it’s all about how Melanie grows to care and feel compassion for the people she meets in the SW universe and becomes friends with, and how she cannot turn away from them and leave them behind to die, when she has knowledge that can help change their fates. It was SO important to me that Anakin is not even on Mel’s RADAR at first. She doesn’t hate him or anything. She doesn’t want him dead, but it’s not really about SAVING him either (if that happens along the way, it’s a happy bonus for her). Because—as you know—she’s TERRIFIED of him in the beginning, and just plans to avoid him like the plague.

And in doing so, she grows closer to others in the SW universe: Ahsoka, Rex, Yoda, Fives, Obi-Wan, all of the other clones, etc. ALL of that is so important for a certain choice she makes with The Shopkeeper (which I won’t spoil for any new readers who may stumble across this post and want to read my work 👀😂).

So, essentially, my fic is a grand, epic tale, that our main protagonist, Melanie Bains, is going on to save millions of lives in a galaxy far, far away from death and suffering.

No pressure, huh? 😂😬

That’s definitely going to crack and fracture at Mel’s psyche as time goes on… 🥶 The weight of such a feat on one’s shoulders essentially all alone becomes overwhelming. 😓💔 (*Cough* Hint for next chapter? 👀 *cough*).

So I’m really trying to follow that ‘Hero’s journey’ format. I already have her character arc outlined with a clear beginning and end. I just have to find the will to write the thousands and thousands of words to get there to that point. 😩😭😂

It still makes me so happy how many people relate and enjoy Mel. 😌🥹❤️💓🥰

Some planned themes I am going to weave in as the story goes along:

Example 1: Genocide

Air Nomad genocide propaganda from ATLA:

Jedi Order genocide propaganda (Not sure if it’s from before or after Order 66. Either way, it’s meant to rile the populace up against them and demonize the Jedi as ‘other’, like emotionless wizards that are barely human and aren’t capable of true compassion since they’re a ‘cult’ and not from ‘true’ familial structures, unlike the ‘good ol’ regular populace with their attachments 🤪’) from SW:

Example 2: Church factions splitting up/The Great Schism of 1054

Example 3: Hero’s Journey (Mel’s character arc)

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… Now, moving past that long meta ramble, here’s some more songs from my playlist on Wattpad for Melakin’s developing romantic relationship and it’s slow, slow burnnnn. 👀💓❤️‍🔥😂

Borderline by Florrie

Let Me In by Michael Corcoran

The Chain by Ingrid Michaelson

Minefields by Faouzia & John Legend

Unlike the previous songs in the earlier part of this meta post, THESE songs are more about Melakin struggling to open up to each other. I’ll admit, a lot of it is more focused on Anakin trying to get Melanie to open up to him, because he doesn’t understand why she’s acting so terrified of him at first.

The one song that’s more about both of them trying to find common ground is “Borderline”, which is meant to be them both reaching out and trying to meet each other halfway. 😊🥰🥺❤️💕

And if you’re wondering what my favorite song is out of all of them?

It’s the “Innocence by Nathan Wagner” song. WITHOUT a doubt. It’s the PERFECT Melakin song that is basically what the whole arc of their relationship is supposed to be. 😭🥹❤️💔💕

Whew, that was a long post! So sorry about that. 😅😂🤷‍♀️ I just got really into talking about my fic and my writing process. I think this has even helped me with motivation! Losing hyperfixations is a bitchhhh. 😖😖

The only other thing I will add is this to hopefully ease your and everyone else’s minds: I may have to go on hiatuses every now and then because of writer’s block or a family/life problem like the recent one with my brother being in the hospital for a while. BUT! No matter WHAT, I will NEVER abandon this fic. It is literally gonna be my damn life’s work—I swearrrrr. 😖✊😂

To end this long SW meta off, I’m going to link another two great Pro Jedi SW meta posts from the wonderful Pro Jedi blog I mentioned earlier. Feel free to check it out if you want, because it’s a lot of Mel’s thoughts on the Jedi, and part of the problems she has to find a way to solve as the war goes on by trying to keep the Jedi in favor of the public’s eyes:

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To any new readers that stumble across this and are curious enough to check out my fic:

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@ensomniaa

@heartfairy

@fangirlteallie

@xreadersunite

@shoniwake

[olderthannetfic]

What the concept called when you just hear the author with every word? Author's voice?

Outside of autobiographies, or let's call them "1st hand" stories this style just seems like such a crutch, but apparently it's still popular enough to be in random books.

Like damn, I can't get immersed in this book for shit because it always feels like the author is breathing down my neck trying to make super sure I get all the #Awesome and #Cool things they added to the story, or all the #Critical commentary, and I better be sure to understand it. Bromodachi, if your writing is on the level that I could sniff out your tiktok behavior and just know what you rant about on twitter just from opening the book, then you're a touch too much.

I know books will follow the authors ideologies to a certain degree, but too much author spittle spoils the broth. I can literally taste the frothing foam from your mouth you used to mix up the ink for printing.

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*cackling*

Having a strong voice is generally considered a good thing, so I wouldn't just use that term for this.

I suppose I'd say that the author intrudes too much on the narrative in an undesirable way or that they stick too many PSAs in a book where they don't fit or something.

There isn't one single word for this because it's just bad writing.

In plenty of more literary stuff, you want to hear the author in every word. You don't want transparent prose that communicates story beats like downloading a movie into your brain in the way you might in a thriller. Part of the joy of more literary writing is that it does call attention to the fact that you're reading words... just... you know... in a skilled and enjoyable way.

A lot of genre fiction is written in third person limited too, so what you want to hear is the character's voice, not bland nothing. Badly-done character voice ends up sounding like the author using the character as a mouthpiece, but there isn't a specific term because it's just a failure mode of third limited.

If I'm correctly understanding the vibe you're talking about, the issue is less that I can feel the author in the text and more that the author is an annoying tryhard whose voice I don't want to spend time with.