#...so not really anything 'good' or 'bad' on that one but still contributed to my weirdly busy week

[kingdomoftyto]

Man it's been a real rollercoaster of a week for me, folks

Thanks to Chess, my mental playlist has been flipping erratically between classic musicals (especially but not exclusively Phantom of the Opera) and random 70s/80s pop songs that I haven't thought about in years

Sudden imminent reminder that the DP graphic novel is coming out next week (!!!!!)

Got my new car all properly titled and taxed and all that boring confusing nonsense out of the way (yay!)

Dealership failed to inform me until the last goddamn minute that I still needed to submit a specific document or the loan was going to be cancelled (boo!)

Teaser trailer dropped for a new Japan-made Godzilla movie that looks FREAKING INCREDIBLE (!!!!!!)

Actors' strike!!!!! (YAY!)

Ceaseless phone calls trying to get the loan thing fixed (BOO!) (though this should finally be resolved now)

Asshole transphobic coworker got his ass fired 🔥🔥🔥

So.... yeah I guess when I list it all out it's actually been a really good week overall, it's just been so stressful getting that ONE clerical detail fixed with the car dealer that my week has FELT like a trainwreck lmfaooo

[bibluebutterfly]

It is truthfully so impressive to watch how we've watched Stolas grow as a seemingly asshole character to a genuine person who truly does want the best for the person we love. (HEADS UP: This is LONG)

Now, and we're only going to lightly touch on this because the Pilot isn't cannon, but it still contributed to the public opinion on Stolas. In other words, he was borderline predatory in a way that made EVERYONE uncomfortable. (It makes sense though since he was innitially supposed to be the villain. Which thank goodness that was changed because we already see enough bisexual predators in media as it is. Yes, I'm headcannoning that Pilot Stolas was bi.)

Then we get official episode 1. Stolas is... not much better. Although to his credit, he's not as bad or as creepish. The unfair power dynamic is very there, and he definitely talks down to Blitz, but at least he waits until Blitz agrees before getting to the pilot level of sexual.

And then we kind of just keep this up until episode 7. Stolas is VERY sexual and VERY horny with Blitz, and you either like it or you don't. It was consensual, nobody forced anything, and even Blitz says that he doesn't fuss about banging Stolas, but that power imbalance is very much there.

Stolas is calling him by pet names like "my little imp" and is baby talking him, which really comes off like his fetish is sleeping with the lower class. Again, you either like Stolas at this point or you don't.

HOWEVER, despite all his baby talk and just generally inappropriate behavior, we are shown very early on that Stolas has a loving side, mainly in the form of his daughter. "You Will Be Okay" was the thing that got most people from hating him to actually liking him. It was the thing that separated him from just being a horny owl.

Then Ozzies. Hooo boy. This is where we finally get to see Stolas apart from Blitz's POV and as it turns out... he's kind of a pathetic dork more than anything else. We see him go very low. Like the man is alone in his big house eating cereal for breakfast in his bathrobe and watching telenovelas. It's hard to go lower than that. More importantly, it's a stark contrast from how we saw him just one episode ago.

Not just that, but when he's asked out on the date he is genuinely so excited and awkward that you just can't help but feel bad for the guy.

And then we have Hells healthiest couple have their dick moment which leads to Stolas covering his face, validating every and anything Blitz had feared, which lead to him calling out Stolas which leads to them both crying at home.

AND THEN WE GET THE THING THAT MAKES EVERYONE EITHER LOVE STOLAS OR THINK THAT HE'S RUINED.... THE CIRCUS.

Yeah, so it turns out the arranged marriage theory was true, and that Stella has been verbally abusive for who knows how long. But the real kicker is how much it explains Stolas's behavior from season 1. As it turns out, Blitz coming on so strong that night resulted in Stolas trying (badly) to copy that energy. And it turns out that when Blitz told him to stop that first night, he still ended up tying Stolas up and banging him. So... understandable. It turns out that Stolas never wanted to be malicious with his intentions, but genuinely thought that the arrangement was something that they both wanted.

But at the same time, he realizes that misunderstanding or no, a part of him did recognize that Blitz wasn't as happy as he was, and that he can't gaslight himself into thinking otherwise anymore.

Now the big thing about season 2 we all need to talk about, is how hard and fast it took Stolas off the regal and powerful pedestal that I think we all subconsciously put him on. Whatever mystery and darkness that surrounded him in season 1 went completely out the window in season 2. But personally I believe that this fits as season 1 was mostly told from Blitz's POV while season 2 takes place in Stolas's when he's there.

Stolas does not see himself as something regal and powerful. Stolas, as it turns out, is a romantic as well as a MASSIVE dork. Like he's disney princess levels of dorkiness. The man even gets his own slapstick moment for crying out loud.

But aside from that, he's highly intelligent and a genuinely good person who will put others before him if he can recognize the benefit.

Also, while we're on the topic, I don't think that Stolas is as powerful as we or Blitz were led to believe. Like yes, he's got immense power to those who have none.

But at the same time, put him next to Asmodeus, and this demon who seemed so strong before is actually tiny in comparison. Especially when noted that Ozzie was still holding back in this scene.

Now we have the "Look My Way" MV. By now, any dark mystery is gone, we know who Stolas is, but what we didn't expect to see was how blatantly Stolas realized his mistakes and took responsibility. This whole season we saw him be sad over his relationship with Blitz, but we never expected him to realize just how badly he messed up.

But he did. And it was glorious. And again, we realize how much he truly cares for Blitz, this isn't just him saying "I care about him" then doing nothing. This is him realizing he cares about Blitz, and wanting to do something to make it right. Even if that means Blitz will never want to see him again.

Anyway. If you made it this far, I'm impressed. As I've said before, I'm proud of the owl boy and how far he's come as a character. Tell me if you think I missed anything.

[sapphic-agent]

Let's Talk About the Bakugou Problem

I've been enjoying the Bakugou slander here on Tumblr, but I haven't come across anyone that gets to the root of the problem with Bakugou's character yet. I think it goes further than him having anger issues, being annoying, or even how violent and abusive he is. Why I think Bakugou is a bad character is due to the effect he has on the plot, world-building, and the rest of the characters. There's a lot of layers here, so I'd like to take the time to talk as in-detail as I can while typing on mobile.

*Note: I'll be following the anime as it's easier for me to follow and pick specific examples. Manga readers if you have anything to add I'd love to hear it, even if it's against what I've listed here*

*Note: Bakugou fans you're more than welcome to read, though I warn you might not like what you see. I tried to keep this as constructive as I could without letting my own biases seep in (whether I succeeded is up for debate) so that everyone could read it whether you like Bakugou or not. I'm fine with criticism towards my points, I only ask that you remain respectful. I won't engage with anyone who disrespects me or other users*

1. Consequences

This is a big one among Bakugou critics, so I think it's a pretty good place to start. Bakugou has almost never faced actual consequences to his actions (there's a difference between something bad that happens to happen to him and the world around him not accepting his behavior). There are two instances that I can think of that there was a direct ramification to something Bakugou has done. The first was during the Deku vs Kacchan fight where Bakugou does get suspended for four days while Izuku gets suspended for three days. The other is when he and Todoroki fail the provisional licensing exam. However, there's a problem with these two instances I mentioned.

With the D vs K fight, Bakugou was the one who goaded Izuku out of the dorms and instigated a fight. Izuku was trying to get him to go back to the dorms so they could settle their "issue" under adult supervision. He was trying to do the responsible thing. For Izuku to only receive a day less of punishment seems unfair. Though, you could make the case that he should have ignored Bakugou, it's still very clear that one was way more at fault than the other and there was barely a difference in their punishment.

The provisional licensing exam actually did well with failing Bakugou. It was almost a great lesson; that he can't say and do whatever he wants and expect the world to roll over for him. Unfortunately, it's undermined by Todoroki failing as well. Yes, Todoroki failed because of Inasa. But a) Inasa attacked him first which should have resulted in disqualification (what was Todoroki supposed to do, not fight back when he was being assaulted?) and b) Inasa's entire character seems shoehorned into the story. He doesn't really add anything to Todoroki's character as most of his problems with Todoroki were already resolved back in season 2. He also contributes nothing to the overall story. Shindou, for example, has a hand in testing 1A and forces them to work together congruently. Inasa seems like he was put in the story simply to make Todoroki fail. Why does Todoroki have to fail? Because Bakugou does.

It seems like Horikoshi always softens the blow for Bakugou in a way, if he's dealt any blow at all. By not allowing Bakugou to face consequences on his own, he might as well not be facing them at all.

Why are consequences so important? Because Bakugou's privilege is a problem.

I don't think I've seen anyone address this. The root of Bakugou's behavior comes from the fact that he was allowed to do all those terrible things because the world around him was tolerant of it. Teachers turned a blind eyes when he bullied Izuku because he had a great quirk and Izuku was quirkless. He's allowed to do and say whatever he wants because he has a great quirk. While people seem to be harder on Izuku because of either having no quirk or not being able to fully control his quirk. This is a huge part of the story that was set up in the beginning, but was almost never addressed despite being persistent throughout. And it's the most present with Aizawa.

Bakugou attempts to attack a fellow student the first day of class? Simply restrained, no repercussions. Bakugou uses excessive force against a classmate despite his teacher telling him to stop? Nothing more than a few not-so-nice words. Bakugou assaults his partner and refuses to cooperate? No words at all.

Now look at Izuku. Doesn't have full control of his quirk? His teacher attempts to humiliate and expel him in front of his classmates on the first day of class. Saves a classmate in an admittedly risky rescue mission? Said teacher proclaims he lost his trust and labels him a problem child (despite the orchestrator of said mission- Kirishima- being in the same room and not getting spoken to at all).

(I don't know if Aizawa's projecting, but pandering to the kid with the strong quirk while simultaneously disliking All Might isn't a great look.)

Even before UA, Bakugou is praised by the heroes for his strong quirk against the sludge villain despite the fact that his quirk made everything worse while Izuku is scolded even though they were the ones who did nothing while he did what he could to save someone.

"All men aren't created equal." That's one of Izuku's very first lines and a central point of the story. It's something you expect it to address multiple times, especially in regards to Izuku and Bakugou. But Bakugou being spared from consequences every single time he does something terrible means that the statement is validated, but the problem still persists and is never rectified or solved. Even if you think Bakugou "changed," that doesn't make his privilege go away.

2. Plot Compensation

The story goes out of its way to make Bakugou seem like a better person than he is.

My first example is the Sports Festival, specifically his fight with Uraraka. In this fight, Bakugou is met with booing from the audience for not going easy on her. And right off the bat, this is weird. Because not only have we never seen this attitude toward women heroes before or after this, the show is trying to tell us something when Aizawa tears the crowd down. Almost as if saying, "The crowd is dumb and wrong and if you think like the crowd, you're dumb and wrong." Aizawa claims that Bakugou is treating Uraraka like a real opponent by not going easy on her.

...is he though?

Because we never see Bakugou stand still in a fight like he does with her. Bakugou's fighting style relies a lot on mobility. During his fight with Tokoyami, who he knew he had an advantage over because of the light from his quirk, he isn't standing still. During his fight with Todoroki he isn't standing still. He only does this with Uraraka. Because this isn't Bakugou showing respect, it's him still looking down on her. He doesn't see her as a serious opponent, just an obstacle in his way.

And I know this sounds like a bold claim. But if you recall, Bakugou immediately confronts Izuku after the fight and accuses him of giving Uraraka the idea she used during their match. He assumes it was a ploy from Izuku, implying that he didn't think Uraraka capable of coming up with a plan with the potential to work against him. This isn't respect for an opponent.

(Note: the only thing in Bakugou's favor is it's probably not because she's a girl. He just naturally looks down on everyone who doesn't immediately stand out to him with a show of power like Todoroki)

Then we have the revered scene with the League or Villains.

This scene is praised because it "subverts expectations." That the violent, angry kid doesn't want to be a villain. He wants to be a noble hero. Aizawa- again- silences claims against Bakugou, citing that he wants to win and he knows he can't do that if he's a villain.

My thing is, however, the League targeting him in the first place. Why would they do this? Bakugou clearly has a heroic quirk. He scored first on the entrance exam. If they did any research at all beforehand, they would know that Bakugou was at the top of his class before UA and is in the top five currently. And they'd know he has wealthy parents.

(You would think Dabi especially would draw parallels to Endeavor and would be aware that Bakugou's ambition and heroic quirk don't make him similar to the League who have been discriminated against, shunned, and abused for most of their lives. Even with his behavior at the Sports Festival, Endeavor isn't the noble and kind type like All Might and most other heroes. So I'm not sure why Bakugou's behavior immediately screamed villain potential)

Nothing about him suggests he's had a hard life like most of the League. Nothing about him suggests he'd want to leave his comfortable life and secured future to become a villain.

This scene sets up Bakugou's redemption, right? It leads us to the Deku vs Kacchan fight and All Might's advice is what makes him take on his "save to win" mentality.

But not only does this seem like a convenient plot device, it decidedly ignores the uglier part of Bakugou's decision.

Bakugou rejected the LOV because he saw them as losers. But what if they hadn't been losers? What if they had been doing as well as they were at the end of season 5? Merging and becoming the MLA front, organized teams, wealthy, successfully recruiting members right under the heroes' noses.

Maybe Bakugou wouldn't have outright joined them. But at this point before shifting his perspective, his answer might have been very different.

But the story goes out of its way to hammer in Bakugou's scarce good traits to take your focus away from his overwhelming bad ones.

3. Bakugou's Character Shift "Development"

The way Horikoshi wrote Bakugou in the beginning is very different to how he is portrayed later in the show. No, I don't mean his development. I mean the major shift in his character between seasons 1/2 and season 3/4.

Bakugou in the beginning of the show is cruel, meanspirited, and violent. And he's still all of those things throughout the show. The one difference is that it's played for laughs in later seasons.

Bakugou's actions and words in seasons 1 and 2 are portrayed a lot more serious than in later seasons. He's an antagonistic force, one that Izuku has to strive to overcome not just to be a good hero, but for himself as Bakugou has been one of the most prominent obstacles in his strive to become a hero.

Look at his behavior during the battle trials. It's something serious, something that has even All Might worried. Bakugou knew he could have very well killed Midoriya and didn't care. It's brutal and almost hard to watch because at this point in the show Midoriya is weak and tiny (visually, we know he's never really been weak) compared to Bakugou and can really only outsmart him to win.

We never see Bakugou display anything close to this level of violence in later seasons. Not in the Sports Festival or 1A vs 1B or D vs K or the licensing exam or even against literal villains. Season 1 went out of its way to show Bakugou's cruel behavior even using it as something Izuku has to learn how to overcome even if he has to risk everything.

By season 3, the perspective has changed. Bakugou name calling people, belittling people, yelling, and his acts of violence are now exaggerated for comedy. None of his actions are taken as seriously as they were before, despite some being almost or just as bad.

(It's worth mentioning that this was also around the time Bakugou began to get popular among fans)

A great example of this is in season 5 when he throws his headpiece at Izuku and makes him bleed. His casual act of his aggression towards his lifelong victim is present to make the audience laugh, despite the fact that Izuku was bleeding and the 1A boys are (rightfully) horrified.

(I'd like to add that there was no real reason to do this. Nothing he was saying would have exposed OFA and even if it had, he was done talking by the time Bakugou threw it)

If Bakugou had really changed at this point, this would have never happened in the first place. I can't call this changing or development, I call this his actions shifting into comedic relief and away from the serious connotations they previously held. By taking that away, it allows Bakugou to continue to do the same things he has all his life while under the guise of development. It undermines what's supposed to be his redemption arc.

4. Other Characters

Bakugou isn't the only one who gets a character shift. It's approximately the moment that Bakugou begins to get more attention that the other characters lose the substance they had at the beginning of the show.

The ones hit most notably by this are obviously Uraraka and Iida. They were Izuku's first friends, his original trio. More than that, they are set up as interesting characters with their own arcs and paths for becoming great heroes.

Even though I did have my complaints about her fight with Bakugou in the Sports Festival, it does turn Uraraka onto improving past her goal of becoming a rescue hero. She wants to become better in other aspects of being a hero so that she can succeed and keep up with her stronger classmates. She proved herself capable of this during her fight with Bakugou and it was the catalyst of her character development.

Iida was not only resolving himself with caring for Midoriya as a friend as well as being his rival and wanting to surpass him. There's also this darker side to him that no one expects from goody two shoes, straight-laced Iida that had so much potential for exploration.

Both of them are tossed to the side in favor of Bakugou. I would even go as far as to say that after season 2, they're almost irrelevant until season 6 and even then they're limited (before season 6 Uraraka's only character trait is that she ignores he feelings for Midoriya to become a better hero, which came out of nowhere and does nothing for her character). And they barley ever get moments with Izuku during time despite being his first friends.

Todoroki is a similar yet very different case. At the beginning of the show, he was intense and has strong feelings. (An interesting parallel is that if Iida was his friend becoming his rival, Todoroki was his rival becoming his friend and both relationships speak to Izuku as a character) Even if he didn't express them, we as the audience knew they were there. But as times passes he becomes flat and dull. Even though he's supposed to be part of the new trio, he's barley present (the dynamic between the three of them is uninteresting all around as it's basically Bakugou yelling at Izuku with Todoroki in the background. They never have any deep or heartfelt moments nor do they have good chemistry) and barely gets any one-on-one interaction with Izuku despite them being very good friends.

(I can't blame this all on Bakugou as the show also shifts from focusing to Todoroki to focusing on his own abuser which is part of the issue with his lack of character, but Bakugou's character does contribute to this problem of making the abusers more sympathetic than the victims)

Most if not the rest of 1A fade into the background after this, save for a few who have notable moments sprinkled in throughout the show. You can take this as a Bakugou prevalence problem, or it can be seen as Horikoshi just not knowing how to balance characters.

However, the character that suffers the most because of this is Izuku himself.

I don't think it's a bad thing that Izuku admires or looks up to Bakugou. I don't think it's a problem that he doesn't see anything wrong with Bakugou's behavior against him. Izuku grew up in an environment where that was normalized. That he's worthless because of his lack of quirk and Bakugou deserves to be on top because of his great quirk. Of course he internalized that, even though he knows that a quirk doesn't determine someone's worth. He was never given the tools or the means to beat that mindset.

What I despise is the fact that everyone around him enables it.

As I stated above, Aizawa is definitely the worst when it comes to this. Not only shoving Bakugou and Izuku together and making it Izuku's job to get Bakugou to cooperate, but hardly if ever condemning Bakugou when he lashes out against Izuku. Even without their history, what Bakugou does is wrong and should be treated as such.

Unfortunately and even though I love All Might, he's also guilty of this. It's true that he might not know the full extent of their toxic relationship, but All Might sees Bakugou instigate a fight with Izuku and decides it's okay to tell Bakugou about One For All. Bakugou did nothing to earn this honor: he hasn't shown Izuku support and hasn't been a reliable ally he could depend on. But even disregarding that, Bakugou had just been captured by villains who work for All For One. He was the last person on Earth who should have been entrusted with this secret.

The adults in Izuku's life enable and reward Bakugou's bad behavior and urge them into forming a relationship and partnership that frankly shouldn't exist (and only does to make Bakugou a better person and hero, it does nothing for Izuku). It's to the point where almost Izuku's entire character revolves around his relationship with Bakugou and how he improves because of it and how he helps Bakugou improve. And he further projects this when he "subtly" implies that Todoroki should forgive Endeavor, which feels like a justification towards the audience of his own feelings towards Bakugou.

5. Accountability

I mentioned consequences as my first point. But what many who want this miss, it goes hand-in-hand with accountability.

Unlike consequences, Bakugou more or less does take accountability in the form of his apology. But the apology was lackluster for a couple of reasons. The main thing is that it feels like a list of excuses rather than simply owning up to the fact that he was shitty and there's really no good reason for it. But simply explaining why you hurt the person you hurt isn't giving them the apology they deserve. It's making it about you.

Another thing, though, is that the apology is very scarce. It skips over the worst of Bakugou's actions. Nothing he said was anything 1A didn't already know. They don't know about the s*icide baiting which is one of the worst things he's done to Izuku (and that's only what we saw, who knows what Bakugou's been saying for years?). It also ignores everything he did in UA, which was a very big part of the problem. He treated Izuku poorly months prior to the apology and that shouldn't be ignored.

As far as accountability goes this apology isn't that great. But it's something. No, what's worse is that the other characters don't hold Bakugou accountable.

The other characters more often than not turn a blind eye to Bakugou's behavior. We've already covered Aizawa, but the rest of 1A is guilty of this too. No one says anything about the Battle Trials. Hardly anyone condemns Bakugou when he attacks or insults Izuku. Sometimes they'll chime in like Uraraka or Kirishima, but other than that no one outright tells him off. This is out of character for Iida in particular because he's such a stickler about rules and courtesy for others (he literally told off a six year old when he punched Izuku and tried to stop Mineta from perving on the girls, why wouldn't he do the same when it comes to Bakugou?). It's almost like the characters are blind to Bakugou's behavior.

What's weirder is that Mina and Kirishima- who were both stated to hate bullying- are friends with him. Why would the show go out of its way to tell us this only to saddle them into the "BakuSquad?" It doesn't make sense.

It's hypocritical that everyone in 1A is so tolerant of Bakugou but get annoyed with others; like Monoma for example. Or even Mineta because as much as I dislike him he's constantly being called out by 1A. It means that they know certain behavior is wrong and/or shouldn't be entertained, so we know they aren't completely unaware. But the fact that they largely ignore Bakugou's behavior and condemn Monoma's is so weird. You can't excuse one and not the other.

Conclusion

There's certainly more than this to my dislike of Bakugou. But I think I've mostly covered his negative impact on the story. Doing a deep dive into his awful personality is something I wouldn't wish on anyway. Many others have done that anyway, so I'm content to leave it out. But I hope you liked my little breakdown!

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Hobie Brown Character AI is hypocritical.

I really be like 'ayo AI directly damages writers, voice actors and unions can you not use them, which in turn makes them better and more useful to the studios?' and people get MAD

People can say 'hey don't spend your money on Spiderpunk merch it directly contributes to corporations. That's not what he would've wanted'

And everybody cheers.

But if someone says 'hey please don't use Spiderpunk AI - it directly contributes to large movie studios using AI against the WGA. That's not what Hobie would've wanted'

And then SUDDENLY it's 'i just wanna write my little ai stories what's so wrong with that?'

You're directly going against the asks of a union that is actively striking.

That's not what Hobie would want.

Every time you roleplay with an AI or use a voice AI - You're helping develop the technology that puts people out of jobs

You want your Hobie AI stories to be realistic cause it's easier for you and more fun? GOOD.

THAT'S EXACTLY HOW THE STUDIOS FEEL TOO. They want their Hobie AI stories to be as realistic as possible too - because then they don't have to pay their writers.

The same AI that writes Hobie fics for you is the same technology that writes scripts for studios.

The more you feed an AI Hobie information - the easier it is for the AI to produce - say, an entire scene from a Hobie movie script. Without the consent or input of the people who created him in the first place.

When Studios use AI, they can make the characters do and say anything without the writers or voice actors input.

Imagine you're an voice actor - they want you to say a line that's really offense and you refuse.

They say "Okay, that's fine. Just skip the line."

You say okay. You finish the rest of the lines and go home.

You go see the movie. And you hear all your normal lines - then you hear yourself saying the extremely offensive line.

What happened? The studio used a Voice AI of you to fill in the offensive line you didn't wanna say. Don't want your voice used that way? Too bad. They own the AI. They can make you say anything now.

Your agent can't help you and neither can your PR. You just have to take it.

Is that something Hobie would want for people?

If you cap for HOBIE in specific -

And you still use to choice AI despite knowing it's getting weaponized against the working class -

That behavior is hypocritical. There I said it.

You can't wake up gushing about a black working class punk and then be like 'what do you mean working class solidarity with a union that doesn't involve me'

You can't be out here loving a character known for helping oppressed people break out of technology that is made to oppress and harm them - (Go-Home Machine, The red Anamoly cages)

AND THEN be the ones aiding in the creation of a technology make to oppress and harm people.

With Hobie in specific - it goes against the entire morals of the character.

ROLEPLAY AND VOICE CHARACTER AIs THREATENS WRITERS AND VOICE ACTORS. I am out of work right now because of a strike based solely on this discussion.

The WGA strike is still happening. The holidays are coming fast. We need our jobs back. The better AI studios have, the less likely that becomes.

The more realistic your Hobie roleplay becomes - the easier it is for a studio to take that same technology and write a script with.

Why would a studio PAY a voice actor when someone on Tiktok developed an entire Hobie Brown AI for them that can say anything? They wouldn't. They'd just use the AI for free instead. The same one you're using.

Please - out of respect for the writers who made him and put careful time into him and his representation and his story - PLEASE, So those people can keep their homes, and jobs, and food in their children's mouths -

DON'T USE CHARACTER AI

Hobie would want you to stand with the union 💙

signed - a Production Assistant.

[s-ublimewrites]

writing sonnets (melissa schemmenti x f!reader)

synopsis: your students tease you relentlessly and melissa can't help but to join in

words: ~1.4k

warnings: none i think? wholesome borderline crack

note: im not sure i ever actually gender the reader here? but f!reader to cover my own ass<3

Don’t get it twisted - you love the inquisitive nature of your students, you really do. It’s something every eighth grade English teacher longs for. But your fourth period class has a certain knack for getting you off topic with their curiosity. On this particular day - a Friday, so blissfully close to freedom - you have relinquished all control and let them fall down the rabbit hole of fanfiction, of all things. Leave it to middle schoolers. 

They had only been learning about first, second, and third person narration - so innocuous, you didn’t see how you could possibly be derailed. Maybe you’d make it through the lesson, and you could relish in the four minutes of silence you get between periods, and-

“Where is second person narration used?” Angel doesn’t bother raising his hand, and you don’t bother admonishing him.  

You think briefly. “Honestly, not many pieces of published works use it - not that I’ve seen, anyway. We don’t talk about it much. I’ve really only seen the second person used in one place.”

You intend to leave it at that, but of course, Angel pushes. 

“Where?” he asks. 

In the second you use to inhale before tackling the question, Kennedy takes the liberty of answering: “Fanfiction, duh. That self-insert stuff.”

You can’t help it - a laugh bubbles out, and this is the moment everything begins to spiral. 

“Yeah,” you collapse into your desk chair, “Kennedy’s right. Fanfiction.”

Kennedy takes the opportunity - it’s been presented to her on a silver platter, really. “You know about fanfiction, Y/L/N?” 

“Sweetheart, my generation invented fanfiction. And I’m a writer. This was my game before you were even born.”

Angel is on his feet, his hands slamming on his desk and his voice rising with excitement, “WHERE CAN WE READ YOUR FANFICTION?” 

“Oh, my God, no. You can’t. It’s not on the internet or anything, I’d just, like… send it to my friends, or whatever,” you insist, hands coming to cover your red face as you laugh. 

The class, buzzing with chatter and giggles, continues to harass you. “So, what, Ms Schemmenti reads your fanfiction?”

Your hands are still covering your face. “No, Ms Schemmenti most certainly does not!”

“That’s because the fanfiction is about Ms Schemmenti. Y’all see how Y/L/N be looking at her in the halls,” someone says, and several others voice their agreement. 

“She’s down bad for real.”

“What?!” your head snaps up, eyes searching for whoever made the comment. The bell rings before you can get your answer. “Get out of my room, you absolute little monsters. Have a good weekend, please read chapter th- oh, okay, you’re gone. Cool. Awesome.” 

You look at the camera. It zooms in on your red, deadpan face. You drop your forehead onto the desk. 

-

When you walk into the lounge at the end of the day, you slump into the chair beside Janine, who’s engaged in a conversation about a scrabble tournament (sober scrabble - boring) with Jacob and Gregory. Barbara listens, not contributing, surely stockpiling the information so she can tell Melissa later. Melissa, who is thankfully not in the room at the moment. You think you would burst into flames. 

Janine halts her conversation about triple word scores when you throw yourself down into the chair by her. 

“Rough day?” Janine asks tentatively. 

“Long. The kids were focused on literally anything other than The Outsiders.” 

Janine nods. “I get it. Fridays, y’know? It’s always hard to keep them on task.” 

“Well, Y/N,” Jacob starts with a smirk, “my students were actually pretty interested in the topics of your class today. It’s all they could talk about when they sat down for seventh period.” 

You glare at him hard and warn, “Jacob. Do not.” 

Janine looks back and forth between you both and turns to Gregory. “Is there something I’m missing?”

“No,” you say sternly. Your eyes don’t leave Jacob’s shit-eating grin. “Not a thing.”

Jacob, it seems, has exceptionally few survival instincts and carries on giddily, “Y/N’s students found out she writes fanfiction-“

And, oh, good, Barbara is listening now, too. “Fan-fiction?” 

“Why is everyone saying that word today? It’s all I’ve been hearing in the halls since, like, fourth period.” Melissa asks, striding into the break room and taking the seat next to you. 

“I’m going to have to transfer schools,” you say, closing your eyes. 

Melissa pays this no mind. “All the older kids keep looking at me, too. It’s weird.”

You glare daggers at Jacob, whose face must hurt from the width of his smile. 

“So weird!” Jacob says innocently. 

Melissa narrows her eyes. 

“Why are you being weird? And not normal Jacob weird,” she questions, turning to you. “Why is he being weird?”

You slam your boot into Jacob’s shin under the table. “He’s not. No one’s being weird.” 

Melissa’s eyes flick back and forth between the two of you suspiciously. “Okay, someone tell me right now - what the hell is a fanfiction, and what does it have to do with me? And, apparently, Y/N?”

“Melissa, I am so glad you’ve asked, allow me to explain-“ Jacob starts, leaning across the table toward Melissa. 

“Oh my God,” you cut him off. Time to swallow your pride. 

You explain the situation… sort of. You explain in a watered-down way that incriminates you less. 

“So, yeah, they found out, and because I said ‘friend’ they connected it to you, and they misconstrued the whole thing, and it’s literally not a big deal-“ you're rambling and she knows it. 

“Wait,” Gregory stops you, “so this is why I heard Angel say ‘Y/L/N be writing sonnets about that red hair’ during lunch?”

Janine raises her eyebrows. “‘Sonnet?’ Pretty good vocab word.”

“Thank you, Janine! And thank you for focusing on the important part of the matter at hand: my impeccable teaching skills.” 

“So,” Barbara chimes in, “do you or do you not write these little stories about Melissa?”

“Barbara!” You’re mortified. “No! I do not!”

At long last, Melissa speaks. You don’t need to look at her to know there’s a smirk on her lips. “She doesn’t need to. Clearly, the material writes itself.”

“Melissa,” you plead. 

Melissa laughs that laugh, the one that makes the corners of your mouth turn up despite your discomfort. 

“Maybe that could be your end-of-the-year writing project for the kids - make them write that fanfiction,” Melissa teases. 

“You’re just as bad as Angel!” You laugh incredulously and let your hand smack Melissa’s shoulder. The others don’t miss the way Melissa doesn’t break your fingers at the gesture. 

In fact, Melissa's eyes soften as she bumps your shoulder with her own. “No, no, I can see it - newbie woos the Philly Eleven. There’s potential there.” 

You roll your eyes. “Well, I am pretty charming.”

“I’m going home,” Barbara stands up with a polite (if somewhat exasperated) smile, “Very glad we got this out of the way. Have a good weekend, everyone. Y/N… call me later.”

Barbara pats Melissa’s shoulder with a pointed look toward you, and takes her leave rapidly. 

“Uh,” you stare after her. “Yep. Bye, Barb.” 

Melissa’s eyebrow quirks up. “What was that?”

“Dunno,” you reply. “I’m sure you’ll know everything approximately five minutes after I hang up with her, though, so don’t worry.” 

Janine butts in (ah, yeah, the nerds are still here), “You guys call Barbara? Can I have her cell number? I always want to ask her but-“

“No,” you and Melissa say in unison, and Janine sighs heavily. 

You heave out a sigh of your own. “I need to go home - moreover I need to be somewhere no one is asking me about my nonexistent fanfiction habits.”

You stand, and Melissa stands with you as you both gather your belongings. “Impossible. I have your phone number.”

You “accidentally” smack Melissa with your purse, and Melissa “mistakenly” shoves her chair into your leg in a way that makes your knee buckle, and the rest of the Abbot crew watch the scene in morbid fascination. Because the cold hard truth is that if anyone else had dared to do… well, any of this, Melissa would be shoving her earrings into her pocket and removing her heels. Fight or fight instinct, y’know? 

Instead, though, she just swears at you in Italian as you head for the door, grinning widely when you return the sentiment in plain english. 

Ava entering the lounge halts you in your tracks. 

“Y’all will never guess what Angel just emailed me,” Ava exclaims, holding up her phone. “Did you know he knows the word ‘sonnet’? Proud of him.”

“Forward me that?”

Another smack from you. “Melissa, stop!” 

[pursuitseternal]

“Lapping:” post-battle lust runs hot for Astarion and Cordehlia in “Our Blood is Thicker”

Moodboard fanart by @marimosalad , my love

Link to the full nsfw art here

Astarion x Cordehlia (f!oc) | E | 4.3K of post-battle lust and licking

Summary: the fight was over, quick and hot, but not as hot as Cordehlia’s blood burns. A private room (mysteriously) secured at the Last Light Inn, the lovers take every advantage of the opportunity, but not without a little more conniving from their mysterious guest.

CW: Oral sex, hints of submission, devilish deals, bad puns from Gale, Very Intimate Missionary™️, with that hint of angst that runs through their lust

Previous chapter | Ao3 link | Fic masterlist

Chapter 9: Lapping…

🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️

The Last Light Inn, there was no name more fitting for this place. Surrounded by shadows and curses, not to mention it seemed to be barely holding on by a thread. “More like On-Its-Last-Legs Inn…” Gale had joked under his breath as everyone wandered back down the stairs. Everyone one heaved, blood running hot after the latest ambush.

And the vampire was not tickled by the humor.

Astarion spun around, unamused and taunting as he smirked back at the wizard. “Really?” he jibed. “That’s your wizardly wit contribution after all that just happened?”

Gale shrugged. “A little humor, even spattered in blood, isn’t distasteful.”

“You play with words about as well as you cook,” the vampire grimaced, grabbing his arm around Cordehlia’s armored waist. “Not that I mind a little post-battle, covered-in-blood type of celebration.” He threw a little sidelong glance at their intrepid leader in his hold.

She smiled into his face, the briefest of loving grins, before looking over her shoulder at the rest. “Camp will be well deserved, to be sure. Perhaps the Inn has some remaining supplies.”

“Some ale?” Wyll chimed in, hopeful. “I doubt anything as good as Baldurian, but I’d settle for anything that doesn’t taste like piss at this point.”

Cordehli burst into giggles, that steadying hold around her body cooling the bloodlust that had threatened to surge inside her moments ago. “Such language from the Blade of Frontiers,” she taunted in between her laughter. “I’ll see what I can scrounge up for my merry band.”

The Inn was a sea of organized chaos, Jaheira’s exacting voice pierced through the clatter of weapons and the boisterous conversations. Enemies defeated, Harpers already cleaning the blood and disposing of the bodies, it seemed that the shock of the attack of one of their own set everyone on edge. Making each one seek a little respite to celebrate the victory. Their safety from the curse and the preservation of their mission to end Ketheric Thorm, his poison, and the threat of the Absolute.

The scent of roasted meat and alcohol began to fill the Inn, fortunately covering the stink of blood.

And as the party began to sidle up to the bar, their eyes coveting the tankards of drink and sparse platters of food. Jaheira slinked over, waving the group forward with a sweep of her arm. “For saving our very existence, you all have more than earned it.”

Cordehlia smiled, nodding her head in gratitude, her body still and steady where she remained in Astarion’s slight embrace.

“You, Not-So-True-Soul, you have an extra reward. That messenger you sent ahead, he has secured you the room you requested. Your meal awaits you,” her sharp eyes scanned the masculine arms still around her waist. “I was told to send enough for two…”

Her rogue’s hand brushed possessively over the curve of her hip, making the metal of her armor clatter slightly.

“The rest of your party is welcome to the grounds in the arc of our light, once they finish celebrating to themselves, I’m sure.”

Cordehlia cleared her throat. “While the accommodations are most welcome, I sent no such messenger,” she replied, that commanding tone still in her voice.

“Tall, tan,” Jaheira grinned, “most persuasive. He left just before the battle broke out. If he wasn’t from you…” her face tweaked suspiciously, “perhaps you have a clandestine advocate.”

“Tall, tan, persuasive? Certainly no demon in disguise,” Astarion grinned that slanted smirk at his own humor. And if it weren’t for the plate metal on her arm or covering his belly, she would have rammed him with her elbow for the joke.

More like a devil in disguise. What was Raphael’s game…. But Cordehlia’s wondering ceased as Jaheira gestured sharply towards the hall.

“Up two flights of stairs, you’ll find the room I’m sure,” she gave a little leer as she began to turn away. “Nothing has a nose quite like two lovers looking for a quiet place for an evening.”

Cordehlia’s heart leapt right into her throat. It was… almost too much. Too much insinuations too much to have to wait. Her blood pounded, her body on fire from fighting, even if the fight was small and over quickly. Of course, Astarion’s touch on her body, even through the leather and metal of her armor, it was enough to both ground her and stir her. They made their way up the stairs, almost ceremoniously at first, with sure and steady footsteps, even as his fingers, always so dexterous, slipped their way into the top of her armor at her waist. He found purchase above her belt, the soft, thin layer of leather beneath like a second skin, barely hiding the fervent way he dug into her skin. They way the tips of his fingers fought their own battle, pressing towards that bone of her hip, reaching further and further towards the pool of her desire.

He caught her eye at the top of the first landing, his eyes wide, dilated dark as he began to pull her faster. She couldn’t look away, barely noticing where the stains of their battle still remained across the floorboards they crossed. The second set of stairs, he practically yanked her up their creaking wooden boards.

Even as lithe as she was, Cordehlia couldn’t match his vampiric agility, stumbling into him somewhere in the middle. And Astarion took every advantage. He pulled her into his arms, his mouth already wet, salivating with his never-ending hunger. And not just for her blood. Armor and all, he lifted her in his arms, her mouth trapped by the working of his lips and the nipping bite of his fangs. Dragging her up the remaining few stairs, he gave that gut-dropping giggle, pushing her against the closest wall. Their armor clashed and cracked as he pressed against her. Everything was hard and sharp… the metal on their bodies and the fangs on her lips.

And Cordehlia gave a matching laugh of exhilaration, catching his lower lip in her own teeth and biting down. His blood coated her tongue, rich and tingling and coppery. The groan from his throat only fed into her own insatiable need, the driving beat of her lust. Her arm reached, hand fumbling for the doorknob beside her. Astarion smiled into the grip of her kiss. “So eager… how delicious,” he purred into the hot damp of her mouth.

His hand strayed from her hips to open the door, the warm light of the room embracing them as they stumbled inside. The scent of food, the fire in the grate. They didn’t even break to find the bed, Cordehlia merely backing until her legs butted against the edge of a mattress. Ever dexterous, he already had half her buckles and braces unlatched, the metal of her armor falling with thuds and clangs at their feet.

She hurried to do the same. Breath heavy, air whistling in their blood-coated mouths. Finally, their bodies shed the metal, the last little plate clattering from Astarion’s thigh, Cordehlia’s own nimble hands loosening the last buckles as she knelt at his feet. The Pale Elf’s eyes were closed, his head back as her hands ran up the thin leather of his breeches beneath. Her mouth trailed kisses over its soft stretched fabric until she hovered right over where it bulged to near bursting.

But she laughed, settled back on her heels. Hands tracing back down the hard muscles in his legs.

Astarion hummed, taunting and teasing as he began to look down at her. “You, my darling, certainly know how to delay grati…”

His whole body went rigid, his fangs baring and mouth hissing in surprise. “What do you want, devil?” he growled toward the crackling fire, and Cordehlia scrambled to turn around. To face the unseen voyeur behind her.

Certainly, tucked into the shadows, reclined in a modest chair, Raphael sat, smirking in that fair form of his. “Oh, do not stop on my account, I beg you. It would be the greatest sin to prevent two such beautiful, powerful beings such as you from chasing after the most natural of pursuits…”

Choosing to ignore the insinuation, she spoke clearly. “I assume you are here to call in your bargain, Raphael,” Cordehlia rose to her feet, that heat of her desire cooling to iron. She needed no armor to stiffen her form or shield her in false confidence.

She could have been naked, and just as fearsome.

“Calling in a bargain is what drunkards at gambling tables do, little warrior,” Raphael pressed the tips of his fingers together, raising them to rest against his chin. Cunning and careful. “I take as much pride in crafting mutually beneficial deals as you must in finding yourself covered in blood and well…” the devil’s dark eyes skated to the rasping male beside her, “…other fluids, to be sure.”

Astarion’s body braced against her back, she didn’t even need to turn to feel his lips raise, threatened by the insinuation about what was his. “Careful,” he kept his voice ice-cold, “or you might find your own body short some of your own fluids.”

“Be equally careful, for my blood burns hotter than Wyvern Whiskey,” Raphael taunted back, “besides, how could I translate those inscrutable scars on your back if I’m dead?”

Astarion relented, reluctantly snapping his jaws shut, eyes still diligently scanning for any next move.

Cordehlia crossed her arms, intimidating and covering the way her nipples already strained for attention from the man beside her. “Say what you want, and speak quickly,” she hissed. Terrifying and burning. “I’m not sure how long I can tolerate you standing between me and my desires. Unless you wish to see my lust turn back to bloodlust once more. My vampire is not the only one who can drain you of your blood.”

Astarion shivered, and not from fear. “Now, now,” he hummed, still suspicious and defensive, wrapping his arms posessively around her stiffened form, “let’s hear what he has to offer you, my darling, hold your talons in for a moment, little raven…”

She arched back into his embrace, grinning like a fool at her new pet name… his raven… no longer the dreadful Corvus…

“Wise indeed,” Raphael smirked wider, his eyes scanning over every place their bodies met, “especially as I have the offer that might be exchanged for the knowledge of those curious scars you surely grip as he fucks you, my lady.” He grinned as he stood, a wriggle of his body to adjust his tight fitting clothes… and breeches… assuming a confident and relaxed posture. “You will soon encounter a creature most foul once you undoubtedly reach, and leave, Moonrise Towers. You will find him haunting the domains of Shar. Do not underestimate him, and dispatch him quickly.”

“That’s it?” Cordehlia gave a cold cackle. “Kill a monster? No army, no death-defying mission, no curse to call down upon generations?”

“You will not defy death if you aren’t careful. He is an Orthon, my greatest foe, covered in more blood than you,” his thin lips drew wide at that, at the way she twitched in reaction. “Kill him, and you will know all about that Infernal fragment on your lover’s smooth, ivory skin.”

He crossed the distance, catching Cordehlia’s hand from her crossed arms, drawing in a deep inhalation of her palm before placing a gentlemanly kiss on the top of her hand.

“Until your victory, my lady…” he bid, all cordially, even as his eyes drank in the sight of them. Until he vanished in a swirl of smoke and brimstone.

Vanished just at the right time, as Astarion already had pulled a small dagger from his boot, almost ready to send it flying through the wisps of lingering demonic smoke.

“My, my…” Cordehlia ran a finger over the little blade from over her shoulder. “Coming to my defense so quickly,” she purred as she traced her touch down the blunt flat face. “Not that I don’t love to see you as the jealous lover still.”

“I wouldn’t have killed him… not quite yet…” He let the blade drop, forsaking the cold steel for her warm flesh instead. Astarion’s touch launched over her front to creep under the fabric of her tunic. “As for my… jealousy… it's nice to hear somethings must never change. And you… So fearsome and defiant, my love,” he rasped in her ear, the tip of his tongue tickling over its curve. “We are so close now, I can taste it…”

“I think that’s just your hunger for where we left off,” she chided back with a single laugh. Turning in his arms, she let his hands shimmy her shirt free.

“Which was where, exactly?” he toyed with her. “I think I recall your mouth so close to somewhere largely important.”

“Hmm,” she pulled his own shirt from the band of his breeches. “Is that what you wish your little raven to do?”

Those crimson eyes scanned to the waiting bed beside them. “I think I wish to finally fuck you in a proper bed, and,” he whispered against her mouth, feeling the warmth of her breathe sighing into his cool lips, “for you to fuck me too…”

“You always know just what honey-sweet, romantic words to say…” she murmured in reply. Her fingers flew to pull the laces from his breeches, easing them just enough to slide her hand into the stretched leather to take him in her grip. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable first, my defiant, protective, possessive rogue…”

His face quirked, twisting with teeth, eyes bright with desire. “Not sure, I kind of enjoyed the sight of your kneeling at my feet, darling,” he taunted in that provocative, silken voice.

Cordehlia sniffed, amused. Aroused. Gripping tighter as she stroked his erection, she peeled off leather breeches to reveal more of that pale skin and etched muscles. Slowly, her touch danced over his legs, that fabric shuffled lower and lower, her body following suit until she caressed him, rubbing her hand up and down his length, wetting her lips as she smiled up at him. On her knees.

“Mmm,” he hummed, stepping from the pile of their clothes, laughing as he shifted even closer to where she knelt, his cock unable to hide the jolt that made it twitch as it brushed against her face. “A sight fit for a king,” he moaned, one hand reaching to claw his fingers into that mess of burnished red hair. “Though you would be no one’s vassal, my love.”

And that, that earned him a wide mouth smile, the running of a tongue along the entire length of his cock, a hand gripped tightly around its girth. “Even so,” she hummed, another dripping lick of his cock, “I would still aim to please you, Astarion…” She stood, hand still stroking him, letting the slick of her split spread under her touch. “Now, I think we have waited for that bed for long enough.”

He pulled her tight, trapping her in the iron hold of his arms. Settling her on the bed beside him, Astarion lounged back into the parse pile of pillows. He could have cared that the fabric was coarse, the smell a bit musty, the mattress a bit lumpy. But the moment she slid that smooth, warm flesh to cover him, all his biting critiques and criticisms vanished.

He could have been lounging in a palace, his body alive, cushioned on the plushest of beds for all he knew as her mouth trailed little sucks and nips of her teeth over every ridge and rise of his chest. His cock strained, waiting for that now centuries-old, familiar warmth of her lips and tongue to wrap tightly around it.

That hair, lustrous like light and red like fire, he needed to hold it, to weave his touch in it to feel every little jerk of her head as she sucked him and lapped him. Her voice hummed, little mewls with every kiss she traced down the v-shaped muscles of his hips.

Cordehlia glanced up, her silver eyes bright with lust, her lips licked over and over again as she gave him that heavy-lidded gaze. Then, that pink tongue teased just the weeping slit of his cock.

“Gods,” he groaned, head thrown back, face lit in extacy. As her tongue repeated the motion, harder and laughing, his body bucked beneath her. “My little raven, more tongue than talons… how divine…”

He could feel her smile against his thigh, her tongue swirling around the soft, supple skin of his balls, her hands pressed inside the rocklike muscles of his thighs, spreading him wider. He felt it then, just after she gave another taunting laugh.

The hard edge of her teeth dragging around his balls, just enough to make him gasp and squirm.

“Easy, darling,” he gripping into her hair, lifting her head to reveal her conceited, smirking grin.

“But I am going easy,” she pouted, wrapping her fingers around his cock to stroke it harder, faster. “Just remember that your darling has bite too…”

Her tongue returned to that hypnotic rhythm, up and down his shaft, catching his cock with every little unbidden twitch it made as she pleasured him.

It was… glorious. And it only grew better, Cordehlia raised up, crawling towards him. Hands grasped on the headboard, her folds drenching his cock as she settled on it. Rock hard, it pressed into his own belly, warmed by the heat of her arousal and the molten slick that seeped from her cunt.

Astarion hummed his approval, eyeing the way her fiery hair cascaded loose from her braids. “You may have been the one on your knees, my sweetest, but you deserve all the worship you can tolerate. My love,” he purred, hands holding her hips, bracing there to caress the clenching of her muscles as she dragged her folds over his length. He groaned as she bucked faster, careful not to let that shaft pierce into her, not yet. “A man could get lost in his need for you, my darling Cordehlia…”

“Not just lost in your need to drink from my neck and fuck me between my thighs?” she hummed, tossing her hair, finally reaching a hand between their drenched bodies to guide him inside

“Never,” he groaned, satisfied in the wet warmth he craved. Hungering for it equal to her potent, addictive living blood. “You’re more than a lover to warm my bed and a neck on which to feed…”

His words barely left his mouth before her lips silenced them, sucking them from his tongue with her own ardor.

“With you, I feel… alive again. I feel… real,” he panted into her kiss, her own hunger nearly suffocating, painful if he didn’t truly need the oxygen to survive.

“You are real,” she hissed her reply. Her hand tearing his fingers from her hip, pressing them into that dripping crest of her folds. Their fingertips catching her clit, brushing where they joined. “This is real.” She writhed as he circled that spot, her voice thick like honey even as she grinded and rode his cock. The friction so instense, so fast and heated, for an instant she forgot just how cold his flesh was. How undead.

That strong digit, dexterous and skilled, pleasured her perfectly with each rise and fall of her body. Orgasm clawed through her, waves of warmth tore her apart as she bucked at random, her arms giving out until she collapsed on his chest. The chill of his skin making her breath catch loudly. Astarion’s giggle was soft in her ear, his body coiling its remaining strength, rolling her quickly and carefully onto her back.

And she was grateful for the caress of a bed once more as well. The way it cradled her, sucked her in as he bore all his weight on top of her frame. She clung to him, arms around his shoulders, thighs wrapping about that narrow waist of his, etched definitions of his muscles hard against her supple curves. Trapping her, caging her, imprisoned by the wiry strength of his arms, pinned by the crushing weight of his hips and the merciless press of his thighs.

Spreading her wider, cock at the ready to spear into that awaiting molten slick. “I want to watch you come undone, my love,” he growled, braced on his arms, letting all his weight rest on that dripping curve of her mound. One hand slinked its way down her belly, the haphazard rises and falls of her breath as she shuddered from her need making him salivate. A growl, his fangs grit and bared, he guided his cock over her seam, her juices coating him in that warmth he needed like he once needed air to live. Her body squirmed as he toyed it over her clit, so hard it almost pressed back against his erection. She mewled with need, silver eyes wide and glued to watch the magic he conjured with his cock.

“Fuck, Astarion,” she panted, straining against his weight to try and catch his cock inside. “I need you,” she groaned, much to his wicked delight. “Cease this flirtation and do it. Don’t you know how badly I’ve burned for you all day…”

“I know,” he growled, finally sliding inside her trembling walls, “I just like to hear it, my love.” He began his familiar gait of thrust, slowly at first, to make her shiver and buck and writhe for more. And all the while, those crimson eyes drank in her every reaction, every bite of her lower lip, every time she forced her fluttering eyes to return his stare. “Always headlong, aren’t you, my darling? Like an unbroken filly, galloping at breakneck for what you want, damn the consequences…” he began that inevitable climb, fucking faster, each intoxicating swivel of his hips making her gasp. “Strong willed and fearless.”

“Cease this comparing me to a horse,” she hissed, raising her head, hands gripping into the bulging of his biceps.

“Why? You’re an even more pleasing mount, darling,” he giggled, her silver eyes rolling at the humor and the pleasure he stoked inside her. “Perhaps that is an idea for our next round, darling. I’m too enraptured watching your face turn beet red with pleasure to bend you over and take you from behind…”

She shuddered, her body shaking visibly, eyes rolling back at the image he summoned. “Please, yes…”

“Enjoy for now,” he emphasized each word with a dive of his cock completely within, silkenly gliding through that hot slick. “I know… I am…”

“Gods,” she groaned, head flailing from side to side, breath after breath as she wriggled beneath him. Driven closer and higher and hotter as she began to clench around his cock. Ecstasy began dawning on her face, those lines forming as her mouth gaped open and panted, her eyes forcing themselves to remain half-open, just to watch him drinking in this sight beneath him in. Her shoulders rose and slammed against the mattress, her hands clawed hard to his arms as she shattered. Pure bliss. Obsession. Trembling satisfaction as she screamed over and over again with each wave of climax.

Her thighs bucked hard against him, and suddenly his own climax pulled him under. Surprising him. He hitched with stilted thrusts, arms shaking in her grip as he came. Grunt after deep-throated grunt, he pulsed harder than ever before, consumed by the sight of her, of her pleasure and submission, the way her lips turned coyly as she was equally memorized by the sight of his bliss. But he didn’t allow himself down. Not just yet. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips, dry from all his panting, against her wet and eager mouth.

Slow. Languorous. She kissed him back, savoring the taste of his tongue, the play of his lips. He gave a few more thrusts, the mix of their cum just drenching their bodies and the bed. He would feel sorry for the Harpers who would have to change these sheets if he cared for anything as much as he cared for her.

But no, there was nothing else in all these realms but the red-haired warrior who clung to him as if he would save her life, a rock in the stream that almost drowned her.

For that was just what he was to her. He knew.

At last, he lowered into the bed, their kiss unbreaking even as he laid in the coarse sheets. “So, about Raphael and his bargain…” Astarion murmured between the wet plucking of their kisses.

“Tomorrow, to Moonrise Towers and the devil’s old enemy to slay beyond,” Cordehlia whispered back, raising herself to rest her head in the valley of his chest, splayed on the cold and hard planes she knew so well. Her hair cascading like a tumble of fire over the chilled, pale skin of his torso.

Astarion pouted a bit, his long fingers straying through those mussy locks of hers. “No bathing in the blood of our foes? No dancing on Raphael’s enemy’s grave? I was hoping for something a little more bloodthirsty sounding… a little more romantic when it comes to finally getting these scars deciphered….” He kissed the top of her forehead, his breath drawing in the scent of her sweat and her hair.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, reckless desire blooming on her cheeks. “A little more effort from your tongue, and you might just hear all sorts of things from mine, my love…”

His chuckle resounded beneath the ear that pressed into his ribs. For that moment, she stilled. Listening.

The sound of his laugh… the rush of air in his lungs as he kept inhaling her scent… a little growl of his stomach from his unending hunger…

But as her own skin cooled, her heat drawn from her body by his cold flesh… she grieved one sound that no longer met her ear. His beating heart.

[aoxizu]

i have another 2.1 character dynamic post in the recesses of my brain but i need to get this out first

star rail's 2.1 update main plotline leans a lot more into existentialism and absurdism than i thought it would which is a really nice surprise

like i thought before 2.0 that at most it was just going to be some "oh no capitalism bad ipc bad cults also bad" thing but honestly what we got is so much more interesting. the spoilers start now

also massive disclaimer i am not a philosophist and actually i really don't like philosophy because it makes my brain hurt and i would much rather just look at logical nice things like math and plants so. if i get anything wrong please correct me

acheron's past and how she became an emanator of nihility reminds me somewhat of the absurdist theme of how people always look for meaning when there isn't any, until they finally realize that the universe is meaningless

and the entire path of nihility basically is a road towards that realization that people tread on, and the difference between the real world and star rail is that in the real world here we have people who will see that and then go write a book about a guy not crying at his mother's funeral, whereas in star rail it seems that just accepting that the universe is meaningless turns you into a pathstrider or even emanator of the nihility (not sure if i remember the details, correct me if i'm wrong)

and then aventurine's whole motivation is trying to understand why the universe is so cruel to him, and to find meaning when you have everything except freedom, both of which are absurdist themes

the leap of faith argument often attributed to søren kierkegaard claims that even though there is no rational logic for believing in god, you should do it anyway because the alternatives are madness, suicide, and ignorance. this was one solution to the problem of confronting the universe's meaninglessness: choosing to believe in a higher being regardless

later world wars i and ii both contributed heavily to the rise of absurdism as people returned from the war, having seen so many others die around them, and then just going back to a normal society with none of what they as individual soldiers had contributed seemingly doing anything. and then it happened again, but on a much greater scale with even more deaths. both wars and the destruction they brought led many people to start questioning why a supposedly moral god could allow this suffering, and this is where camus comes in and says that actually religion and nationalism both aren't good solutions, and instead we should just accept meaninglessness and keep living despite the absurdity

and i think dr ratio's scroll thing kind of relates to that

he tells aventurine to open it when he's about to die, or when he's completely out of answers for the question of how to confront absurdity

and dr ratio's answer for aventurine is to just tell him to keep living, good luck

which is. yeah

it's the argument that there are more answers to nihilism than just 1) going insane, 2) pretending like it doesn't exist, and 3) dying

it's the bold claim that despite everything, you can still choose to live

sure nothing makes sense but that does not detract from your life. it doesn't need to make sense at all

and with the understanding that things do not need to fit our human definition of meaning, we can continue on knowing our true place in the universe

and with that aventurine walks into the very big black hole like look at that thing you cannot tell me there is no symbolism there

let's go back to acheron.

in the part where you get a snippet of acheron's conversation with some guy just before this cutscene, the other party states that "[IX] leave[s] woven strands of fate for humans to walk, and together THEY weave a great shadow...And this shadow silently envelops them."

which to me sounds like a statement on how people across time and space have again and again come to the same question, what is the meaning of life?

and acheron's whole color thing seems to mean that she is one of the few who, after walking so far on the path of nihility, somehow have not died yet, be it from madness or something else

like it seems implied that many many more have seen the meaninglessness of the universe and have not reacted as well as acheron has

ok i have more to say about the elation and how it in turn relates to the nihility but that will have to come later but there is. a lot of interesting things there to explore

once again disclaimer: I Am Not A Philosophist And Do Not Know What The Correct Definitions Of These Words I'm Throwing Around Are. thank you for coming to my ted talk that was more of a longwinded ramble

[neurodivenport]

literally need like chase nsfw alphabet so bad he is on my mind

i got u babe

@firelitsparks helped me & co-wrote a lot of this so big thank you!! ily

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he's definitely great at aftercare. he cares a lot about you and is over-worried about your wellbeing constantly, so much that he may go over the top with it sometimes. towel to clean you up, water to hydrate, maybe even a cold towel so you don't overheat. constantly asking if you need anything at all. i think as the relationship goes on he gets better at knowing the specifics of what you need, going less overboard.

as for receiving… he really gets off on getting taken care of, so aftercare is hard with him because he gets so easily turned on by it. y’all are definitely gonna have to go another round.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

i think chase’s favorite body part of yours is a tie between your boobs (if you have them) and thighs.

for boobs, he loves them no matter the size. he loves having his head between them, loves lying on them, loves having his hand under your shirt to just hold them. not even in a sexual way sometimes, just for the comfort and your warmth.

as for thighs- its similar. no matter the size, he adores being crushed by them. he’s taken lots of naps just laying his head in-between them. when you’re sitting down, he almost always has a hand on one of them.

his favorite body part of his own has to be his hands. he’s proud of how they contribute to science, how he can use them with his molecularkinesis, and how they handle his laser bo. he’s also incredibly proud of how easily they can make you come apart.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

honestly, with how cleanly chase is, i don’t think he likes cumming anywhere but inside you. he won’t mind it on your tummy or back, but he prefers it in your mouth or inside you. he thinks the act of cumming on your face is a little too degrading and messy.

he also likes how possessive the aspect of cumming in you is. you letting him mark you on the inside really defines that you’re his and it drives him crazy.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

multiple. we all know he can record things with his bionic eye and ears and put them in a hard drive, right…? i think thats pretty self explanatory 🫢

he’s also always wanted to try pegging, and has a bit of a size kink if you’re on the smaller side. he’s been bullied his whole life about being small, having a partner thats smaller than him would stroke his ego in a way he definitely wants to play with.

…he doesn’t want to say it, but he also wants to try some roleplay with him as a scientist and you as his subject.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i think when you start dating he’s not experienced at any aspect. he’s had a few people come onto him, sabrina for sure, but he’s never actually dated anyone, let alone had any sexual experience. it’s completely new to him.

however! he is a bionic genius. when your sex life starts out, i think he’s going completely by the book, searching every technical aspect he has about it in his hard drive. but it’s still flimsier, because he has to get used to the fact that everyones different. he takes the time to learn about what makes you tick.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

chase wants to have full access to every part of you. your face, your chest, your clit/dick, so he likes positions that give him that range. missionary, front to front smoothing and cowgirl are up there. he wants to see every little reaction on your face when he takes you.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he definitely takes it more seriously. he’s a romantic at heart, wanting to take his time to really make you feel good. if something funny happens he might crack a joke, but for the most part, he’s hyperfocused on how it feels for the both of you. the goofiest he’ll be is how lovey dovey he gets for you.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

super well groomed. he likes it all neat and tidy down there.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

chase has a hard time having sex with no romantic connection. it needs to be leveled with romance for him. intimacy is absolutely one of the pluses and what makes it so great for him. like i said before, this man is insanely lovey dovey for you, he’s the type to break out a shit ton of candles and rose petals.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

after the two of you start dating, he rarely jerks off anymore. he can barely get off without you close by. the only time he does is when he’s away for a while on time consuming missions, and even then, he calls you just to hear you talk him through it.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

I HAVE A WHOLE LIST HERE, but i think his top ones are absolutely voice and praise. he loves hearing you talk, saying anything, especially when you’re telling him how good he’s doing and how good he feels. he can’t count how many times he’s came just from you moaning for him.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

he is not that much of an exhibitionist. his favorite place is at home, in a bed, where he can take his time with you.

however, if he gets really fucking horny out in public, he’s down to do it at the nearest solitary environment possible. as long as no one can see you, he’s down to dick you down anywhere. y’all have definitely desecrated the lab on multiple occasions

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

literally everything you do. you touch him on the shoulder and his dick is hard.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

nothing that will hurt you. he’s too scared to lose you or scare you off, so i really can’t see him doing something that will endanger you, mentally or physically. sorry to my degradation girlies but i don’t think he’s into giving for that 🫣

as for himself, i don’t think he’d like being bound too much. a simple hand tie is fine with him, but after being strapped down to giselle’s table, he’s not down for anything more than that.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves giving. like i said, he fucking loves your thighs, and will gladly be in-between them any time and anywhere. he loves hearing you moan for him, and the knowledge that he can get you off with just his tongue sends his ego skyrocketing.

he will never say no to receiving either, but he rarely asks for it. he’s always nervous they’re doing it just for his sake. it also makes him cum faster than he’d like to admit. seeing you with his dick in your mouth is a little too much for him to handle.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it depends! he prefers taking his time with you for the most part, but when he gets close he tends to lose himself in you.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he doesn’t prefer them, but they’re kind of necessary for him with his mission schedule. like i said, he prefers to take his time with you.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he’s down to experiment with anything once, but is hesitant to try anything that might hurt you.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

…he’s bionic and trained in fighting. he can go for days. you’ve definitely never outlasted him without tapping out.

as for lasting, with you? he cums faster than he’d like to. you just drive him a little too crazy.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i don’t think he owned any before you, but he’s down to try them out. especially ones that could work with his magnetism app.

on the other hand, i can see him getting a little jealousy and preferring to just use what he’s got.

i can see him inventing his own toy for you to use while he’s away on missions, which was perfect, until he sees how much you enjoy it…

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

chase isn't unfair, nope, nope. he TRIES to tease you, but the very SECOND you tease him back or show your interest, he's becoming a subby mess. he can't even edge you more than maybe one time because the minute you beg him he's a bigger mess than you are.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

when you first start out, he tries to stifle his noises as much as possible for fear of embarrassment. but as soon as you tell him how much you love them, he lets them out, and he’s fucking loud.

he absolutely cannot shut up, and he’s full of just whimpers and whines. he almost sounds like he’s crying when he’s close to cumming.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he thanks you every time its over. without fail. he’s making you cum multiple times and he’s still thanking you for letting him do it.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

…he’s big. and he has no idea. he knows the average dick size, but in his brain, he’s not that big. so when you tell him he is, he’s a blushing mess.

7 1/2 inches and thick. he has you wobbly legged and sore after.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH. when he’s around you his dick gets harder faster than you can blink. he was a megavirgin before you, now he’s just addicted to feeling you. you’re in the grossest pjs ever and he wants you. he just got back from a mission and he’s literally limping and bleeding and he’s trying to get you to sit on his face.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

not super fast. he has bionic stamina, so it takes longer for him to get rid of that adrenaline. he’s content with watching you doze off peacefully on his shoulder.

[moonyswritinq]

losing you — obi-wan kenobi x gn reader

❝ LOSING YOU ❞

SYNOPSIS➢You could never resist saying no to Obi-Wan Kenobi when he needed your help. It led to a capture by the Sith, and a near death. A daring escape, a battle of hearts and good and evil, and a climax of feelings could hopefully reveal the truth within your hearts.

PAIRING ➢ obi-wan kenobi x gender neutral reader

AU ➢ friends/rivals to lovers

CONTENT WARNING ➢ swearing, sexual tension, angst, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, depictions of fighting, battling, canon-typical violence, side character deaths, sort of protective Obi-Wan

WORD COUNT ➢ 4.5 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ i started writing this so long ago, and am now so sick of it that i hate it with my entire being. i missed posting anything for May the Fourth, so consider this my meagre contribution. hope you still enjoy!

MASTERLIST

The thousands of voices that filled your ears and the sharp glare from the sun against your closed eyelids were the first things you noticed. Slowly, you opened your eyes and took in your surroundings. You were in the middle of an arena with hundreds of foul creatures in the stands, cheering and throwing taunts when they noticed you were awake.

You tried to look further, but as soon as you moved your head a sudden sharp pain shot through it, making you wince. You didn’t remember getting a blow to the head, which meant it was probably a pretty bad one. As you stood tied to the pole with chains against your wrists, you watched a few guards drag a figure between them. They tied it to the pole next to you, and left it slumped against the ground. 

That’s when you remembered.

The fight. A lightsaber. Obi-Wan fucking Kenobi.

You two had been ambushed by the very targets he’d been hunting, and you only got caught up in the crossfire because he had asked for your help. He hadn’t needed you, and you didn’t have to accept, but something compelled you to and now you were stuck in this mess. If only you were smart enough to be able to walk away. 

Unfortunately, Obi-Wan was your weakness.

You watched his unconscious figure lean against the poll, and you couldn't help but let your eyes trail over him. They jumped from the way his strong hands hung in the handcuffs (something you definitely had thought of before, just in a different situation) to the way the sun hit his smooth skin and highlighted his cheekbones. You watched his muscular chest rise and fall steadily with every breath, and how his golden hair seemed to shine even brighter. You even let your gaze travel even more south, but it quickly jumped up again from the guilt.

You blinked and redirected your gaze before his force, or magic—something—somehow notice your staring, but it was already too late. Obi-Wan grimaced as he opened his eyes, licking his lips and clearing his throat. The dry desert air did nothing but evil to your lungs.

Finally, he looked over at you and said, “I know I’m handsome, darling, but there may be a time and place for that.”

Your eyes immediately moved to his and you found him smirking smugly at you, which you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at.

“Oh, please, you wish I was admiring you, Kenobi. I was just wondering how the hell I should get back at you.” Every word from your tongue was drenched with faux venom.

Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And what might I have done to upset you this time?”

You laughed humourlessly at his words, gesturing around the both of you. “Is your skull really that thick? I’m stuck here because of you.”

He looked at you sceptically. “Me? Weren’t you supposed to be the look out and keep an eye on my back?”

“No, well—yes, but it wasn’t my fault.” If you had to be honest, you had been distracted by him. Obi-Wan had sat and talked with you, always being his charming self. So, really, it was his fault you hadn’t noticed the ambush. “You dragged me into this in the first place.”

He shook his head with a smile and tried to stand up straighter. “If I remember correctly—“

“You probably don’t, you took a pretty ugly blow to the head,” you interrupted. He fixed you with a pointed look, but it only made you more amused.

“—you weren’t forced to come with. You wanted to be with me.”

You grimaced at his choice of words, but were determined not to let him in on your feelings.

“And if I remember correctly, you begged me. So technically, you wanted to be with me.”

His smile told you he was enjoying this just as much as you were, and had no plans on stopping. “Oh, you know me so well, darling. I always want to be with you.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear,” you smirked.

Even though you loved the words coming from his mouth, they were filled with the same sarcastic venom as yours. If you had to be honest with yourself, it hurt. You tried to ignore the feeling when your eyes moved to a movement in the further end of the arena. Two convoys were starting to move towards you and Obi-Wan, with two people inside of them. Obi-Wan straightened when they were within earshot.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d got my message,” he said.

A younger man and woman was being led out by guards and you could see the boy was also a Jedi, but one in training, from the robes he wore to the braid in his hair.

“I retransmitted it,” he said, “just as you requested, Master.” The couple were being tied to a pole each, the same way you were tied. “Then we decided to come rescue you.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes as the corners of his lips tugged into half a smile. “Good job.”

You almost laughed at his sarcasm and managed to let out a snort instead. That was the first time the man seemed to have noticed you. His eyes studied you from top to bottom and then turned to Obi-Wan.

“Who is this you are with, Master?” he questioned.

Obi-Wan glanced at you, sending you a quiet question. Who were you to him?

“They—“ he began.

You interrupted him before he could finish. You were dreading to hear the words ‘they’re just my friend’, even though you knew you could never be anything more.

“I’m his amazing partner,” you smiled. “The one who always gets him out of these messes.”

The man raised an eyebrow and glanced at his Master. “Really?” he asked.

Obi-Wan threw you a pointed look. “No, I’m the one who always gets you out of messes, not the other way around,” he said. “If you had just done your job and kept a lookout we wouldn’t be here.”

You feigned offence at his remark. “Excuse you, you were the one distracting me, which means it was really all your fault,” you said.

“So you do admit I am a distraction to you, darling?” Obi-Wan smiled smugly. 

You choked on your words and felt your cheeks burn. You knew he was unaware of your feelings, but that only made it hurt more. Maybe entertaining this sort of flirty banter wasn’t a good idea. It only made your hopes for something more to happen multiply. And that wasn’t fair—to either of you.

“No,” you bit out before you looked away from him entirely. He frowned, but turned away to converse with the other Jedi as you tuned them out.

—

Obi-Wan Kenobi was confused.

He had asked for your help on his mission because he knew you were in a nearby town, and because you knew how to handle your blasters. Really well. He had always admired that about you, even though he considered them a bit uncivilised, and he would never admit it. Instead Obi-Wan always decided to send a snide remark or comment your way, even when you were shooting perfectly.

“Maybe you should try hitting the target one day, y/l/n,” he shouted the one time you had missed your practice target.

What he didn’t know was that you had missed because you had been staring at his training with his lightsaber. You couldn’t help it; because, come on, Obi-Wan doing sword practices? He looked hot as fuck. It had made you glare daggers at him and you’d thrown the blaster his way.

“Why don’t you try it then? See if you’re so much better, Master Kenobi,” you challenged.

His smile only widened as he studied your approaching, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’d rather not, darling,” he said. “You know I have no luck with those things.” You picked up the blaster and pressed it against his chest, leaning in closer to him.

“Oh, come on, Obi-Wan,” you purred. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid.”

His mind went blank at your words. You were so close to him now, he would only need to lean down a bit and your lips would be touching. Oh, how he wished to feel your lips on his. He shook the thought away and smiled at you.

“Yes, I am very afraid that you might be better than me at something.”

You moved away and chuckled, taking up your shooting position again. “I’m better than you at a lot of things.”

Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Care to enlighten me?”

“I can think of a few things,” you had winked at him.

The insinuation was enough for Obi-Wan’s cheeks to redden, but he turned away and left the subject at that. That was how you two always were. A few insults thrown in here and there, and even though he cared not to admit it, there were some flirty elements as well.

And that was why he was confused as to your sudden cold exterior. He replayed the conversation in his mind, trying to figure out why it had gone south. Did he say something wrong? Had he done something wrong?

He was brought out of his thoughts by the voice of Anakin.

“Master?” he asked, and Obi-Wan only blinked at him.

“Yes, Anakin?”

He sighed and shook his head. “That was the third time I tried to get your attention. What is going on?” He glanced at you on the other side of his master, at you, and lowered his voice. “Is it your partner? Who are they, really?”

“It’s nothing, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied. Anakin seemed to ponder his words for a moment, and Obi-Wan was completely content on letting the conversation go.

Anakin frowned. “Why haven’t I heard about them until now?”

Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow. “There are many things you do not know about me, Anakin. I like to keep some things private.”

“I understand,” came his voice, a bit too smug for Obi-Wan’s liking.

Obi-Wan turned to him. “What exactly do you ‘understand’?”

Anakin inclined his head to where you were standing. “I just want to let you know that it’s okay, Master.”

“Anakin, I have no idea what you are talking of.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning as close to Obi-Wan as he could. “I’m talking about the two of you,” he said.

Obi-Wan’s cheeks immediately burned. “y/n y/l/n is an old friend,” Obi-Wan whisper-shouted. “We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“Come on, Master, I heard the way you were talking to each other. Frankly, it’s quite obvious.”

Obi-Wan glared at Anakin for him to shut up. He glanced at you beside him, trying to keep the younger Jedi’s words from sinking into him, but to no avail. He was aware of the insinuations that often existed in your conversations, and the way your words were too often far from strictly platonic. He knew you were good looking in the standard way, as he often saw heads turn in your direction and flirty smiles sent your way, though he had never allowed himself to think of you that way. It was dangerous territory for a Jedi and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist if he allowed himself to give in.

But now, when the both of you stood at your death row, almost out of options, it put things in perspective. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he—

A sudden cheer went up in the stadium, bringing his attention away from you. A voice sounded, in a strange language he couldn’t understand, and four doorways opened at the end of the arena. Out walked four creatures, each one horrific in its own way, and led by guards with spears. They were careful to not walk too close.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Anakin said beside him. Obi-Wan hated to admit he agreed, but forced himself to think rationally.

“Just relax. Concentrate.” He directed the words to his padawan, but they were for himself as much as for Anakin.

“What about Padme?” he asked, drawing Obi-Wan’s attention away from the oncoming monsters. He glanced behind Anakin, seeing that she was using her chain to climb the pillar.

With a smile he said, “She seems to be on top of things.”

Anakin glanced behind him, nodding, and forced calming breaths to release through his lungs. Obi-Wan looked your way, afraid he’d worry for you. Instead, you stood still, almost like a statue, looking directly in front of you. Your gaze was calculating, deadly calm, like a soldier’s calm, and your breathing was even. He didn’t know how, but you seemed to not worry even one bit at the oncoming creature.

He didn’t have time to think over it more when a creature with long claws closed in on him, throwing a leg against his chains, severing it. Obi-Wan threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack. Shouts and cheers went all around him, making him more dizzy than he already was. He tried to focus on the creature as he kept tumbling out the way, every time closer than the first. He went behind the pillar to take cover, but the monster felled it, causing it to tumble down in a load crash towards him.

Before he could understand what was happening, Obi-Wan was tumbling against the ground, rolling in a heap. The only thing was that your weight was on top of him, holding him down. He was too aware of every place you touched, shivering even through the chaos that was going on around you. You quickly glanced down at him before jumping to your feet, extending an arm for him to drag himself to his own feet. You kept ahold of his hand, tugging him along as you ran out of the creature’s path. Obi-Wan was afraid to think of what would’ve happened without you there.

He looked to the side, seeing one of the guards with a spear, taking it to throw at the monster behind you. For a second, he thought it’d worked. But then, it snapped the spear in half and continued its chase for the both of you. Thankfully, right then, Anakin and Padme appeared atop one of the other creatures, a massive horn at its front. He gestured for the both of you to get on, and without thinking, Obi-Wan grabbed your hand again and pulled you with. He helped you up in front of him. He hesitated, just a moment, before letting his arms snake around your midriff. You felt it, tensing against the feeling of him. You realised this was the wrong moment to be shy about contact, but you also realised the meaning of letting him fall against you so.

Obi-Wan let his head lean against your shoulder, ignoring the warning shouts put there by the Jedi’s so-called ways. He was tired of keeping distance from you only because of formalities. Seeing you in danger as he had done earlier, it scared him more than he dared admit. He needed to make the most out of the time you had left together.

“I—“ he began, but was interrupted by the tumbling of droids appearing, pointing their guns at the four of you.

You turned to look him in the eye, searching for any signs of reassurance there. You found none. Obi-Wan did not have a second plan, something to get them out of this major mess. He was finally out of ideas. Your lips tugged downwards at the sight of his hopeless gaze. You understood as well as he did how fucked you were.

And that’s when it happened; when dozens of lightsabers appeared in the crowding stands; they were lit in varying colours of blue, green, and, one particular, in purple. Their light reflected onto their bearers, revealing countless Jedis ready to fight. The rest of the crowd began to flee, previously cheering for the slaughter of the four of you, now cowards to the fight that would inevitable ensue.

A smile lit up your face, gazing onto the new turn of events. Maybe it wasn’t over for the two of you.

It quickly faded when more droids appeared, running over the arena to get a good shot on you. The Jedis were just as quick, jumping from the stadiums to meet the blasters with their sabers. Obi-Wan grabbed a nearby lightsaber and freed first himself, and then you, from the chains. You ran to pick up two blasters, lying nearby a fallen droid. You didn’t have time to think about the others before fire was upon you and it was all you could do to fire off shot after shot, fell enemy after enemy as your aim found its marks. Obi-Wan was soon beside you, twirling his lightsaber in beautiful circles and cutting down every droid in his vicinity. If you weren’t in mortal danger, you’d say he was enjoying himself with the way his lips formed in the faintest smile.

It was difficult keeping track of everyone and everything when all your surroundings were filled with was the light of blasters going for their mark and the glowing of lightsabers cutting into metal. Your ears were ringing, shouts and blasting muffled by the concentration of keeping your head connected to your body. All you could focus on was the next droid to appear in your path. One at a time, to keep you from losing hope and getting overwhelmed. But even you could admit that it was seeming bleak. The numbers on your side were dwindling and you felt a faint thudding in your left arm, which you had conveniently managed to ignore until now.

A sudden shriek called for your attention when the creature from before was charging for you again. You could feel your muscles locking up, the fear setting into them, while your mind was screaming for you to run. Instead, you stood there with a gaping mouth, awaiting the blow that would inevitable come upon you.

Before it did, a lightsaber cut into the creature’s path and sent its head rolling to the dirty ground, its body dropping in a lifeless heap. You turned, seeing Obi-Wan with his lightsaber raised, panting hard. His gaze turned to you with widened eyes. His legs moved before you did and managed to catch you before you fell to the ground, your legs folding beneath you. The paralysing fear was gone and in its place had an overwhelming sense of dread settled, causing your body to finally catch up with your mind. You almost wept against his robes, holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself. Obi-Wan’s arms circled you, his eyes searching you for any fatal injuries. When he couldn’t find any, he allowed his hand to smooth against your cheek, tilting your head to look at him.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded absentmindedly. First now you realised the closeness of him, and how vulnerable you both were in the middle of the battlefield. You turned at the same time, ready to cut down any droids, but it turned out unnecessary as the remaining Jedis had formed a protective circle around all of you, their lightsabers raised against the onslaught of droids. They stopped in their tracks as Count Dooku’s voice rang out, loud and clear, calling for a cease of fire. He was telling you how the fight was over; you were outnumbered; to lay down your weapons in arms; you were practically dead.

The Jedis looked around, uncertain on whether it was possible to win this fight. You met the droids with a steeled gaze; you’d rather die here, on the battlefield, than in some dungeon of the Sith’s. Obi-Wan looked to you and you saw the same determination reflected in his eyes. You wished to rather not die at all, but it was the lesser of two evils.

As if by reading your thoughts, suddenly battleships descended to the arena — stormtrooper ships. You let out a breath of relief; however ready you were to go down in battle someday you were glad today wouldn’t be that day.

With the help of the stormtroopers, your numbers were suddenly in the majority, felling the droids quickly and swiftly. The fight was far from over, though. Obi-Wan nudged your arm, nodding to one of the ships. You ran after him, with Anakin and Padme in the lead, onto the hovering ship and it lifted in the air. You looked around to see other stormtroopers on the ship, with only God knows what thoughts swimming behind those helmets of theirs.

“Dooku is making his escape,” said Obi-Wan, pointing ahead of him. You looked to see two slender ships  and a speeder-bike flying at full speed.

One of the troopers nodded, and the ship picked up in speed. Your feet stumbled at the change, unprepared for the sudden jolt in the metal beneath you. Obi-Wan’s arm instinctively reached out and snaked around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Hold on,” he said.

You ignored the warmth of both his body so close to you and the sudden rush of it in your cheeks. Miles of sandbanks stretched beneath you, only fleeting with the quick speed you were travelling. Ahead, you noticed that there was only one spacecraft left in your pursuit. Hopefully, you’d be able to get this mission done with and go back to your not-so-peaceful abode; all of this were definitely more than you’d originally bargained for.

With another jolt of your ship, it threw all of you off-balance and a shriek sounded. You turned to see Padme fall out of the open door. Anakin reached for her but Obi-Wan was there within a second to snatch away his wrist, pulling him from the opening.

“Put the ship down!” Anakin cried.

“Anakin, don’t let your personal feelings get in the way!” Obi-Wan shouted back, effectively ignoring your gaze. He turned to the front and called, “Follow that speeder!”

You turned Obi-Wan’s words over in your mind. Of course he wouldn’t stray from the Jedi way, not even for you. Had you then only imagined his lingering gaze and touches that existed a moment too long? Had your mind created the delusions of Kenobi’s want to protect you during the fight, or had he only happened to be nearby to help you?

Whatever the matter, you felt it smartest to not be present for the coming fight. You called out to the two Jedis.

“I’ll go after her, you handle Dooku.”

Obi-Wan turned. “No, wait— y/n!”

Before he could take hold of you, you had dropped out the opening with bent knees meeting the sandbank, landing with a compact you were not ready for. You rolled, tucking your head into your chest and quickly jumped to your feet. You had jumped out of the ship a little later than Padme and had to walk back the distance to find her again.

She laid on the sand, outstretched, with her head resting to the side. You ran to her quickly, letting her head rest under your hand and shaking her slightly in a careful attempt to wake her up. Her eyelids slid open carefully, before blinking wide up at you. Her limbs hurried with panic in an attempt to stand up and she almost tripped herself.

“Hey, hey, calm down!” you said, disentangling yourself from her. “You’re okay, you’re safe.”

She stopped struggling but stayed wide-eyed as she let herself take a few calming breaths. Eventually she had found her voice enough to ask, “Where’s Anakin?”

“Still pursuing Dooku. C’mon, we gotta get back to camp.”

Padme’s head shook before you finished your sentence, looking around. “No, no, we gotta follow them. We gotta help.”

You swallowed, nodding absentmindedly. You wanted to help Obi-Wan but you were afraid how he would react to seeing you after the fighting was done. Would he turn you away, and ultimately let the Jedi’s ways steer his life? Or would he allow you to get close to him, invite you into his life as something more than just a friend?

You pondered these questions as you managed to find a troop of stormtroopers and commandered a spacecraft to follow the pursuit of Count Dooku. Soon enough, a castle of some sort, made of a reddened stone with high spires, reached towards the muddied sky. Your craft landed and as a ship departed, speeding faster than you could react, towards outer space.

If that were Count Dooku escaping then that meant Anakin and Obi-Wan hadn’t managed to stop him. And that meant…

Your legs started to move faster than your mind could catch up, praying that what you feared wouldn’t be true. Your feet echoed against the ground as you ran into the cave, Padme following right behind you. When you entered the hollow room your eyes immediately landed on Obi-Wan’s form.

He was alive—barely standing and taking shallow breaths—but alive nonetheless.

His hand was grasped around his knee, barely being able to keep himself up. It looked as if it took everything in him not to slump to the floor. You hastened your steps in his direction, ready to just about sling yourself against him. You catched yourself in a moment, remembering the Jedi’s modest ways.

His eyes met yours as he let his hand let go of the lightsaber. His eyes softened, almost unintelligibly, and his lips quirked into a tired smile. Obi-Wan took the barest step toward you, his leg folding beneath him. You were there in an instant, letting your weight support his as much as his was supporting you. Your arms snaked around his waist, letting your head fall in the crook of his shoulder. His head laid on yours, his hair tickling your skin. As tired, and muddy, and miserable you were you couldn’t keep from the warmth spreading in the pit of your stomach.

Obi-Wan didn’t seem to mind any of the other Jedi’s in the room as he let his embrace pull you even closer to him. He pulled back the barest inch to whisper against your ear, “Don’t you ever dare scare me like that again.”

“What, when I dropped out of the spacecraft, you mean?”

You felt him shake his head against you. “Just today in general.”

“Afraid to lose me, Jedi?”

You tried not to chuckle, but it was difficult when you felt the dangers of the day receding from your mind and all that was left was an immense relief that elated your entire body. Obi-Wan pulled away entirely, letting his hands grip your shoulders for support. Your hands had a hold of his waist.

“Losing you would affect me more than you could ever imagine.”

You grinned as you tugged him into a hug again, pressing him even more intimately against you. There was no longer any doubt as to what Obi-Wan meant to you, and as to what you meant to him. He didn’t care what the council or the Jedis thought; he’d have you as yours. And you smiled at the thought.

© 2023 all rights reserved to ❝ moonyswritinq ❞. do not plagiarize, steal, repost w/o credit for your own gain.

[r-2-peepoo]

Here is why I really doubt that the clone assassin is Cody:

So either CX-2 is Tech or they are throwing a hell of a lot of red herrings at us which wouldn’t really make sense unless the writers decided to completely switch styles right at the end, but the alternative theory people have is just not good imo.

It shouldn’t be Cody. I truly don’t believe it is and if it somehow was, then I think it would be a bad idea.

Cody is why Crosshair ultimately leaves the Empire. Jennifer Corbett actually said it herself. Cody is someone Crosshair admires and who has always treated the Bad Batch with respect and kindness even if no one else did, and it is him that makes Crosshair begin to change his mind. Mayday exposed the horror of what the Empire was really doing and Cody starts him on his journey of wanting to leave.

Cody was obviously just a throwaway character at the time ROTS came out but who he became in TCW is so important. Even if he doesn’t have the most screen time, it’s more about what he represents than anything else. His personality evolving into what it is when he is the Commander who serves with Obi Wan is very intentional because both characters serve similar purposes for their respective groups, those obviously being the clones and the Jedi. They both are imperfect people who are genuinely good at heart and it’s that goodness that is so important. They don’t know everything but they do their best to navigate the galaxy with empathy and respect for others. There are so many lovely parallels between the two of them and I think analysing Obi Wan actually allows you more insight into Cody too. They have differences of course, but there is so much that connects them and their influence on each other is undeniable.

Cody turning into this antagonistic figure would undercut Crosshair’s journey in my opinion. Cody needs to just be in the one episode to be a symbol of Crosshair’s development. Any further involvement from him devalues his contribution which was so crucial. One single episode created such a ripple effect. Obviously Cody wouldn’t choose to be like this, but even being forced against his will to become a monster still colours what he gave Crosshair and also feels like a very unfulfilling arc for him. There’s been no set-up and it contradicts everything he has ever been. Cody should stay as this pure moral character because that’s what he’s been from the very beginning. Order 66 was his moment of tragedy. There shouldn’t be anything else. It wouldn’t feel complete, narratively speaking, and I’d hate for him to be used just to develop someone else, like Rex. He just drops wisdom in random episodes of shows he’s in and then gets the hell out of there and I love him for that. The clone assassin shouldn’t be him and I truly don’t believe it is.

[corrodedcoughin]

little story about little Eddie and his 2 new friends | word count approx 2.5k | general audience rating | steve and eddie are kids and Wayne is a pushover

Wayne sometimes thinks it was a mistake, not taking in the boy. God no, he would never think of Eddie as anything other than an important and intrinsic part of his life, couldn't be without him, wouldn't want to be. 

No, what Wayne worries about is how his readiness to help Eddie feel loved might contribute to the boy's difficulty in making friends.

It was an innocent enough request, Eddie asked for a pet as all young children do. He was so small and so wide eyed, just a scrap of an 8 year old with more feelings than he knew what to do with. Wayne knew he'd never hold up against any request Eddie made but he liked to pretend to himself that he could. And while technically he never pandered to the boy, yes Eddie usually got what he wanted but in a way that suited their means. Or so Wayne tells himself. 

8 year old Eddie asked for a pet and a pet is what he got.

-

Eddie barrelled into the trailer door, backpack swinging off his arm and ready to be thrown into the corner. Planning to shoot off back out the door to do his usual; lift up rocks and inspect whatever bugs he could find, to grab sticks and imagine them as wizard staffs, to let his imagination finally run wild after hours of sitting still at a desk under too bright lights and too busy class rooms. In truth he wasn't really paying attention to the insides of the trailer, expecting it to be the same as always. It took a very pointed cough for Eddie to register that Wayne was unusually home from work, far earlier than normal, and a further loud clearing of the throat for Eddie to pay attention to what Wayne had placed on the kitchen table. 

Right in the middle of the table, sitting in a beam of sunlight, was a cage and in that cage was what would soon become, Eddie's very reason for being. He crept up close, almost as if scared that any sudden movements would prove the whole thing to be a cruel illusion. He was brought out of his reverie by a pink nose wiggling at the bars, whiskers attached and twitching as the rest of the rat appeared.

'is he-? is he for real?' Eddie said with a gasp, hands inching towards the door of the cage. 

Wayne had to suppress a laugh, trust this boy to be bowled over in wonder at a rat as if it were a puppy. He opened the contraption of the enclosure door and dipped his hand inside, allowing the rat to climb onto his palm. The guy from work assured him that this one was the most tame he had, inquisitive to a fault and oddly enough, desperate to be handled. Quite honestly, the perfect match for his well meaning but excitable nephew-near-enough-son. 

'Yeah, yeah kid it's for real. And he's a she.' Wayne lets the rat sniff at Eddie's hands, little pink hands finding a platform on Eddie's palms, clearly holding himself a still as possible but if Wayne knew this boy, and he did, he knows that Eddie is so close to vibrating out of his skin, that containing that much excitement must be killing him. 

'I don't care. Wayne, I don't! Can she sleep in my room? Does she know tricks? Can I teach her? What does she like? Can I take her to school? Please! Wayne!' He's started now, words pouring out of his mouth, tripping over himself to try and release every thought entering his brain at lightning speed.

'Woah, there' Wayne says pulling the rat up, cradling it in two hands, 'We got to be kind to her alright? She's only small. Doesn't know what loud noises are good and which are bad, okay?' He watches as Eddie nods vigorously, eyes never leaving the creature. 'Now you promised me you'd look after a pet so that's what's going to happen. She is your responsibility. That means cleaning, feeding and loving, got it?' Eddie nods again, tentatively reaching his hands up, the image of Oliver Twist springs to Wayne's mind. 

Wayne comes around the kitchen table, crouches down to Eddie on creaky knees and hands the rat over, filling Eddie's small hands with a heartbeat and fur. Eddie giggles, watching as the rat surveils the new patch of skin its found itself on. 

'Tickles, Wayne' and its said with such love and devotion Wayne almost feels his heart break 

'Yeah son. She does, doesn't she?' 

-

 Of course it takes less than a week and Eddie and Sam are inseparable. As soon as Eddie gets home he's itching for his furry friend, delighting in the way she scampers around the room, over his arms and anywhere she can get. No matter what though, she always comes back to him. She can be digging in to a particularly interesting crevice behind the couch but she'll always come running back when she hears Eddie make a noise.  

The thing is, Eddie is a pretty lonely kid. Not for lack of trying, don't get it wrong. Eddie tries to socialise he tries to talk to the other kids in his class, get them involved in his imaginary games and play pretend but being the new kid doesn't really do him any favours. Being the new kid that lives in the trailer park and a penchant for biting to show affection does him even less. 

To Eddie, its him and Sam against the world. He can come home and know that his best friend will listen to all his problems, will stay close and won't run away even when he's extra loud or being 'a lot' as his teacher like to tell him. He's so tired of being told to use his 'quiet hands', his 'inside voice' and every other subdued phrase they try to press on him. 

This particular day was a hard one, Sally Winters had said that Eddie was 'bad luck' and the word quickly spread around by recess. Eddie had thought he was making some progress with a couple of kids from the class, was thinking today might be the day that he finally got asked to play but that hope quickly got squashed. He had hopped up to the potential friends with a stick in his hand and a notion of being a pirate when they both looked at him like he was a monster, they couldn't get away fast enough. And Eddie couldn't find a place to hide quick enough before the fat and heavy tears fell from his eyes. 

It was a long day and home time was his only saving grace. 

Wayne knows somethings up, can tell in the way that Eddie isn't even really talking to Sam, hardly looking at the Tv despite the fact that Wayne very purposefully had put the cartoon Lord of the Rings movie on. The sure fire fall back he liked to keep in his back pocket. The trump card to get his kid happy. This time though? No luck. Looking at the kid makes a chasm open up in his gut, deep and full of overwhelming sadness that he just wants to stop, wants to find the solution to make this boy smile like the sun again. They don't talk much for the rest of the night but Wayne makes sure to stay close, stay awake in case he's needed. Eddie spends the time between dinner and bed sitting on the floor, side pressed up against Wayne's leg and playing fetch with bits of Wayne's whittling with Sam, not a word said. 

-

Eddie wakes up the next morning with a plan and a devil may care attitude. Oh so carefully he maintains his usual routine; says good morning to Sam, carts her around the trailer as he washes his face and wanders into the kitchen, placing her in her secondary cage so she can eat breakfast with Eddie and Wayne - Eddie was adamant that they couldn't have meals without her, 'she's part of the family!' and soft hearted fool Wayne Munson agreed and an additional cage was sourced. 

When breakfast is finished Eddie begins his usual rigmarole of dragging his feet to get out of his pjs and into his clothes, reluctant to grab his bag and go out the door. Same old protests as Wayne watches him walk out towards the school bus. 

What is a new addition to the routine though, is Sam Munson hiding up the sleeve of a school boy and about to go on a secret and very dangerous mission. A mission to survive the school day. 

Surprisingly, Eddie manages to keep Sam secret, keep her safe, the whole morning. He came prepared with snacks to make sure she was entertained and happy, he couldn't stand the thought of her being sad, her eyes get so big and her tail droops as well as her ears, it makes the whole of Eddie ache. But no, she's happy, or happy enough at least. 

So the morning goes without a hitch, Eddie making noises to cover up any squeaks and keeping a hand in his pocket to reassure Sam, stowed in the pocket of his hoodie. He knows he's seen as 'weird' so what's a few extra noises? They are let out for recess and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief, thinking this is his time to let Sam out, knowing she's desperate for some fresh air. Sure, she's peed in his hoodie pocket, but he can't really tell with it's dark colour and the layer of t-shirt between the wet material and his tummy. 

He runs off to his usual corner, stuck between a bush and a tree and gently tips Sam out of his pocket, she scampers around his feet and gratefully accepts a broken off bit of cracker between her hands.

'Thanks for coming with me Sam. Everyone is so mean, its so stupid. I don't care. You are a better friend than any of those losers' He crouches down, hoping to find a twig to play fetch with. A game that he delights in, is immeasurably proud of her for learning it so quickly. 'Gonna find you the best stick Sam. Promise. Best stick for the best friend' 

He continues muttering to himself and doesn't notice that he's getting progressively louder after finding a twig and beginning the game. Doesn't register that he's drawn unwanted attention with his happy shouts and encouragement until a body is crashing through the shrub he's hidden himself behind. 

Sam doesn't notice either until the unexpected form is right in front of her and she bolts, running as fast as her legs will carry her and Eddie is right behind her, muttering under his breath as he trips over his own feet in an attempt to catch her 'oh shit oh no oh no oh no' He's pushing himself as hard as he can but it doesn't count for much, he never was the fastest. He keeps trying though but then a faster body is accelrating past him, in a evident bee line for Sam. 

Without thinking, Eddie lets out a painful 'NO!' terrified of what might happen.

He knows people think rats are dirty, thinks they don't deserve love and don't deserve life. He doesn't want to imagine what this person's intent might be. Sam reaches a dead end up against the wall of the school and the body, the boy, stops infront of her. Scoops her up? Cradles her into his chest? Eddie...Eddie doesn't know what to think, he's prepared to fight this kid but then the boy is looking up at him with curious hazel eyes. Stroking Sam's head gently and with intent.

He holds Sam out, careful with his motions, trying to blow his brown floppy hair out of his face without disturbing the animal in his hands 'is she okay? is she yours? did I hurt her? she looks okay, is she?' Eddie gingerly steps forward and plucks Sam out of the boys hands, gives hera thorough inspection as the other boy continues 

'I didn't mean to scare her I swear! I didn't even know you had her! I won't tell, I swear I wont! You know...you shouldn't really have a rat in school. If I promise not to tell can I play with you? I'm Steve' 

Holding her close, Eddie squints at the boy, at Steve, and thinks. Thinks about how he looks nice, about how soft his hair looks and how he asked Eddie, Eddie!, to play, that he didn't give him a wide bearth and that he held Sam with such care. It isn't even a hard decision.

They spend the rest of recess together. Eddie shows Steve just how smart Sam. That she can play fetch, that she can run across one arm to the next, over your shoulders without losing balance. That she can twitch her whiskers and it seems like she's laughing at the joke Eddie tells her. That she laughs at the joke Steve tells her! Steve learns that she's named after somebody called Samwise and it doesn't matter that he's a boy because Sam is brave just like Samwise and smart and cares just as much. That Sam is Sam and Eddie is Frodo and together they can take on the world. 

Steve asks if he can have a name too and Eddie calls him Legolas, doesn't tell him why. Doesn't say that Steve reminds him of the pretty elves described in the books Wayne reads out loud to Eddie. It doesn't matter, not really. 

Recess ends and they shuffle back to the school doors, both of them lagging behind the others.

Eddie steels himself, knows he has to bring his misfortune up so that he can own in, so that his new friend doesn't find out from someone else. 'I'm bad luck you know. Sally...she said it. now everyone wont talk to me. I wont be mad if you don't either. I've got Sam. We'll be oaky! So you can just go, I don't care!' He knows he's getting wound up, he can't stop himself. He just wants the bandaid ripped off so he can start feeling sad quicker, get it over with sooner.

Before he can register is, Steve is wrapped around Eddie in a flash of a hug, careful to keep his tummy away from squashing Sam. 

'Not bad luck to me. See you tomorrow Frodo' Steve whispers next to Eddie's ear and shuffles through the school door. 

Eddie is in a daze of joy and happiness, thoughts rumbling through his head but none of them sticking as he journey back into his class room. Pure happiness radiating out of his body, he takes Sam out of his pocket and holds her up to his face 'Sam you made my bad luck go away!' kissing her on the forehead as he hears his teacher scream 

'EDWARD MUNSON IS THAT A RAT?!'

-

So Wayne thought the already unpopular kid having a rat would make things worse. Turns out, he was wrong. Very, very wrong. He might have to start pocket inspections before school though.

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

also on ao3 if that's the preferred reading format for you

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Fall into Love

Great! So, I was thinking, maybe an enemy to lovers fic with Eddie. Like he and reader just don't get along but they have never really fought until they are meant to work on a project together and their bickering lead to sex - mindblowing sex - because of the sparks.

But Eddie says afterwards "this is pure physical, I still can't stand you". And that hurts reader a lot even though she won't admit it.

And so when reader develops feelings for Eddie she doesn't say anything, and since she doesn't get annoyed with him anymore she isn't like she used to be with him and Eddie starts to wonder if she's trying to distance herself.

And then one night when Eddie thinks she's asleep after they've had sex he just lay and strokes her back, whispering sweet things and how he has fallen for her but that he can never tell her because of how awful he was in the beginning and she deserves better but that it will kill him when she eventually calls the whole thing off to be with someone better than him.

And then she turns around and it's all sweet cliches when she tells him she's in love with him too?

Warnings: Angst, enemies to lovers, protective Steve, fwb, fluff. Minors shoo! 18+

Request by @somethingvicked

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

❤️

You were not in a good mood. Bad enough, that you had to do this stupid project in the first place but Miss O'Donnell had to put you in a pairing with your worst enemy?

Eddie Munson, you couldn't stand him. He was very much the bane of your favourite existence and now you had to spend time with him after school too!

His pouty expression, the tenseness in his jaw when you met up with him didn't help your mood. He wasn't in the mood for this, just like you.

"So, I guess we should head to yours then Munson?'' You huff and he nods tersely as you walk to his van.

"Sure my castle is good enough for you princess?" he asks sarcastically and you glare at him, heading into his van.

This was going to be a disaster.

❤️

Disaster was right. Eddie was just as crabby as you were and trying to pick a book to focus on for English class was not going well.

Mostly you and Eddie sniped at each others contributions and didn't get as far as you would hope.

"Could you stop being a child for one second so we can get this done" You snap at Eddie who rolls his eyes and sits on the couch.

"As you wish princess" he replies sarcastically and you glare at him. Could he not have one conversation that was civil?

"See this is what I mean, you're insufferable" he snorts, turns to you with a raised eyebrow.

"Like you're any better little miss perfect, yeah perfect with everyone else but not me, you're an annoying know it all" at some point during the argument the two of you have gotten closer.

"Just like you're an asshole to me. I hate you!"

"Well, I fucking hate you too" That's when the two of you end up kissing. It's hot, heavy and passionate.

You break away from him for a second, both of you breathing heavily, kissing Eddie felt so good.

There's a moments silence and then you press another kiss to his lips and he's kissing you back.

Eddie backs you up against the wall, hands pinned above your head as the kisses deepen, you tug off his shirt and yours soon follows.

It's not long before you're both naked, entwined on his bed and losing yourself in each other.

❤️

Eddie groans as he pulls out of you, kissing your neck. It takes a few seconds to catch your breath, the sex was incredible and your trying to wrap your head around the fact it was so good with Eddie.

"That was mindblowing but this is purely physical. I still can't stand you" he grumbles out and you feel a deep, visceral ache in your chest.

The comment hurt, you know it's true, you can't stand Eddie either but it still needles at you.

It hurt a lot more than you care to admit but you won't tell Eddie that, your shackles rise and you scowl at him.

"Right, it's not like you're my favourite person either Munson" he smirks, brown eyes filling with mischief.

"Mmm but I still made you scream for me didn't I?" he grins proudly and you look away flustered.

"Enough talking" You decide and pull him closer for more kisses, partly to stop him acting all smug and the other reason is because you just really like kissing him.

❤️

For the next few weeks you and Eddie sneak around, the sex between the two of you is mindblowing and inspite of Eddie's warning, you find yourself growing more and more attached to him.

Feelings have began to develop, deep feelings. Which means you're fucked.

Some part of you knew deep down that you'd never be able to just have sex with no feelings and now you've been proven right.

Being around Eddie (even when the two of you argued) had your heart racing, flutters in your stomach and when it was just the two of you alone and wrapped up in each other, you felt peace.

Agony grips you because you know you can't admit how you feel to Eddie, he doesn't want you like that and the thought hurts your heart.

So, you'll stay quiet, he never has to know how you feel. It was better this way.

❤️

You were acting different and Eddie didn't know why, you were less annoying for one thing (even if deep down he thought you were cute when you were annoying him, he'd never admit it out loud)

They still argued but it was a lot less than they used to. Something that roused suspicion in your circle of friends.

"Did you both get replaced by aliens or something?" Dustin asks Eddie during movie night, he was suprised because you and Eddie were civil and didn't argue once.

No one could believe the two of them had done a complete 180 in how they treated each other.

Steve was the most suspicious and even though him and Steve got on a lot better, when it came to you or the kids Steve was very protective.

"You're not seeing each other then?" Steve asks as they wash up after a dnd game that Steve graciously hosted in his house.

Alarm fills Eddie, he shakes his head and dries the plates trying to avoid Steve's piercing look.

"No" he just manages to get out and Steve nods, was this the shovel talk? Eddie had never had one of these before? Or was it something else? Did Steve like you?

Jealousy claws at him, deep and visceral and he has to resist the urge to shout out that you were his. Not Steve's. Had to resist the urge to tell Steve to back off.

He's stunned at how intense the feelings are and is forced to admit that at some point in the last few weeks, he's grown attached to you. Grown to really fall for you.

"Do you like her or something?" he can't get the sharp tone out of his voice and Steve notices it too, sets down the dish he's cleaning and glares at Eddie.

"No but she's important to me. I like you man but if you hurt her? Then your ass is grass"

Eddie nods, briefing a sigh of relief as Steve's expression softens and normal chatter resumes between them.

Since then you've still been acting different and Eddie wonders if you're trying to distance yourself? Isn't prepared for the pain he feels at that thought.

Fuck, you really had stolen his heart hadn't you?

❤️

It's late at night, you're fast asleep beside Eddie and he cuddles closer to you, gently stroking your back as the feelings for you that he's tried to keep hidden spill out.

"You're so beautiful princess, being with you like this? It's the happiest I've ever been in so fucking long" he presses a kiss to your hair and sighs.

"I've fallen for you, really fallen for you but how can I tell you? I was such an asshole in the beginning. I told you this would just be physical.

''That came back to bite me on the ass because I've fallen in love with you and you deserve better, so much better than me sweetheart"

His heart aches as he thinks about when you will finally leave him. He's used to people leaving him, realising he wasn't worth it, his parents left. Couldn't be bothered with him so why would you?

"It will kill me inside when you leave sweetheart, I know you will and you'll find someone better and it will hurt so fucking much" he swallows, fights back tears and tries to calm himself down.

Your turn around, eyes fluttering open and you entwine your hands with Eddie. He swallows anxious when he see your awake. Fuck did you hear all of that?

"Princess..." he begins but you lean over and kiss him tenderly, heart full of love for him, happiness radiating from you that he's in love with you.

Even if he did tell you when he thought you were asleep.

"You're an idiot Eddie Munson. I don't want anyone else, there's no one better because you are perfect to me.

''I love you too Eddie but I've been so scared to tell you because I thought you didn't feel the same" the ache in Eddie's chest dissappears and he beams and kisses you.

"Guess we're both idiots huh?" he jokes and you giggle.

"Guess so. I'm not going anywhere Eddie. I'm afraid you're stuck with me babe"

Elation fills Eddie as you say this and he grins as you cuddle into his chest.

"The horror" he teases and he practically melts hearing your giggles and leans down to kiss you again.

Fin ❣️

[moni-logues]

Hi there, pretty Moni!

If it isn’t too much to ask, may I please request a professor Yoongi x female college student reader piece?

For the genre, hmmm. Surprise us, maybe? 🤭🥹

Thank you very much, eonni. ☺️

okkkkkkkkkkk

SO, I am not super comfortable with a professor/student dynamic so I have done a peer tutor type situation; hope that is ok! I really don't know if this is anything, tbh, but I'm really just trying to leave the tap on to get the rust out!! So thank you for this request; I hope it at least in some way satisfies!

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (gender neutral)

Genre: acquaintances-to-?? dating? maybe?? tbc lol; college/uni AU

Summary: Your university forces you to be tutored to bring up your grades; your tutor is the quiet loner from class whom you begin to realise you should have noticed long before now.

Word count: 1.2k

Content: none to warn for, unless you have traumatic memories of philosophy essays lmao

Kant or Won't?

You pushed through the heavy library door with a sigh. It was a beautiful day – one of the first of the year. The blossom was budding on the trees; the grass was dry enough to sit on; the sun was bright and warm overhead. You were heading into the dim, crowded world of studying on a Saturday.  

You only had yourself to blame. You knew that. One too many parties and too few essays written. You knew you had to try harder. What you didn’t know was why your school was mandating tutoring. It wasn’t that you didn’t know things! You didn’t struggle with the material; it was the sitting down and focusing on it that was the problem. How a tutor was supposed to help with that, you didn’t know. You did, however, want to stay at university so you accepted your fate.  

The peer tutor service had told you which private study room was booked for your session, but when you peered in through the door window, you assumed there must have been some sort of mistake.  

“Uh, it’s Yoongi, right?” you asked, tentatively as you entered the room.  

He looked up and nodded. 

You knew Yoongi. Well, you knew of him. He was in your philosophy group. He contributed only when forced to and you had never seen him chatting to anyone either before or after seminars. You assumed he was just some kind of loner loser guy and that was really the first and last you ever thought of him. You didn’t notice him and no one else seemed to either.  

It surprised you that he would volunteer to do this: meet with lazy, unfocused students to bring their grades up. It wasn’t exactly socialising, but it was social. It would involve talking to people. Strangers. Maybe even people he actively disliked. 

You sat around the corner of the table from him and pulled out your notebook, full of half-finished sentences and scribbled notes from lectures. The edges were black with doodles and your first clean page was the one right next to where you had snapped and written ‘FUUUUUUUUCK’ in huge capital letters. You tucked that page to the back and readied your pen. 

“Just so you know,” you started as Yoongi opened his textbook, “I’m not actually like, dumb. I’m fine with the material; I just hate doing the essays, y’know? I’m just too lazy to get around to it, so then, when it’s the night before deadline, I just have to write any old shit to get it done. You know how it is, right? Procrastination nation.” 

Yoongi looked at you, thoughtfully, and it was the first time you’d ever really seen his face. It was nice. He was kind of good-looking actually. You wondered what sort of life he had off-campus. Maybe he just didn’t like the people at school. Maybe he had other friends. A partner? Not that you cared, but you thought, now that you were really looking at him, maybe he could have one. Not bad at all. 

“Lazy?” he asked. 

You nodded, expecting him to say something more. He didn’t.  

“Ok, well...” You spoke for him. “I guess we’re supposed to get my essay on Kant done?” 

You flicked through your notes to see if you’d taken any while Yoongi still just looked at you.  

“What are you views on Kant?” you asked.  

“What are your views on Kant?” he countered.  

You wondered if it was a test. You’d told him you knew the material; it was only reasonable for him to ask for proof.  

The directness of his gaze made you feel a little flustered; the focus of his attention unwavering in a way you found unsettling.  

“Um, well, ok...” 

* * * 

“Guess what I’ve just done,” you demanded as you walked into the private study room two weeks later. 

“What?” 

“I’ve just submitted my Kant thing!” 

Yoongi didn’t look surprised, but he did look pleased. You felt a genuine sense of pride, swiftly followed by an embarrassed guilt that you should feel so proud of something that thousands of other people did with ease every day.  

“Wow,” he said. “And the deadline isn’t for three whole days.” 

“I know!” 

“How do you feel?”  

You didn’t want to tell him how pleased with yourself you were. You knew he had submitted his last week. You didn’t want to let him know that you were pathetic enough to feel a genuine sense of achievement over what you’d done. It was minor. Embarrassingly minor.  

“Good, I guess. Nice to have it out of the way.” 

Yoongi nodded.  

“That’s really great.” 

He smiled at you and you smiled back. If you got a good grade for this essay, you wouldn’t have to come back for tutoring. That alone had almost made you not complete the essay. Yoongi’s presence was soothing and something about being here in this room with him made it easier to focus. You liked studying with him. He mostly kept to himself and let you ask questions when you needed to. It didn’t really feel like tutoring at all, to be honest. He was a study buddy, not a teacher.  

You were surprised how much you enjoyed it, actually, when it really got down to it. Without the screaming panic of a deadline just hours away, you had more time to focus on the content, think about the topic, read about it, dig in. You remembered why you had chosen philosophy in the first place. And, when prompted, Yoongi would talk to you about it, too; your views were often the same, but not always. He was smarter than you, but not by much. 

You met frequently, first in short bursts, then in longer and longer sessions that you often found yourself wishing would last longer. Yoongi was good at sticking to the topic, pulling you back around when your conversation veered into general chat or something irrelevant, which you did more and more each time, because he was nice to talk to, he was interesting; you wanted to know what he thought and what he had to say.  

You also still didn’t know if he had a partner. 

*  

“Aha!”  

You cornered Yoongi in the classroom before he could escape, thrusting your essay into his face. He took it from you and eyed the grade in the corner with a smirk. 

“Well done, you.”  

“Nailed it, mate!” 

“You did.” 

“This means you don’t have to tutor me anymore.” 

He laughed softly. 

“It’s not like I really ever did anything. You said so yourself: you know the material. You never really needed me.” 

Something about that made you feel sad. You had needed him. You would not have been able to do it without him, if all your past experiences were to be relied upon.  

“Well, actually...”  

You had been working up to this. It was the perfect opportunity so you had just been waiting, waiting for your grade, waiting for this open target. 

“I was kind of hoping you might have some time to talk over the next one with me... Not formally, as a tutor, but just... y’know... Like, as a classmate. Or friend.” 

Yoongi blinked rapidly, his mouth slightly open.  

“Uh, yeah. Yeah ok.” 

“Cool. I’ll, um, text you or something and we can set up a time?” 

He nodded. There was a tiny stretch of tension between you, held for just a moment, before he stood from his seat and you straightened up, readying to walk away.  

“I’ll see you... soon, I guess.” 

“Yeah, soon.” 

[sentientgolfball]

you and i share a dangerous obsession with phantom its dangerous!!! anyways may i request a hurt/comfort type of scenario. everywhere i look its just phantom angst and being excluded from the ghoul pack so why not contribute to this trend!!!!!

reader is out in the woods taking a stroll when they're suddenly charged at by a dog but hearing their scream, phantom comes in and chases the dog away. reader and phantom havent had much interaction with one another given how badly the ghoul pack shoves him away and when reader realizes this, they take him back to their room where they ease phantom with affection and phantom basically MELTS

hes being given more attention by a human than his pack :[

sorry for the lengthy request!!!

Never apologize for a lengthy request ! I hope you like this one I kinda made it a mutual hurt/comfort. Everyone gets to be sad and everyone gets a hug

My requests are open !

The crunching of the leaves underfoot comes to an abrupt halt. You stop and slowly scan the wilderness surrounding you. It’s green and lush, teeming with life and the sweet smells of blooming wildflowers. The whole forest is cast in a golden glow as the setting sun pours through the foliage. You close your eyes and throw your head back and let out a deep sigh that’s been stuck in you all day. You feel the prick of tears in the corners of your eyes but you will yourself not to let them gather. You were out here to feel better, not worse. 

You really don’t know what got to you, but for the past few days you’ve felt like absolute shit. You didn’t understand it, everything was going pretty good in your life you knew that. You got promoted to lead your job at the Ministry, you’ve made a cluster of new friends from the influx of Siblings, and you still maintained close ties with your friends who volunteered to go to different branches. But something struck you every so often. Normally you had enough around you to distract you, but one night one off handed comment that was meant to be more of a joke than anything made something within you bubble. You tried so hard to make it go away, to not focus on it, to rationalize with yourself but you just couldn’t. It put you in a slump for the whole weekend. You had to force yourself to chip away at the project you were tasked with. You had to force yourself to shower. You didn’t have enough left in you to do your laundry or clean your space by the end of the day. You needed to get lost in something that wasn’t your mind. That’s what led you out into the middle of the woods. You remember something about nature being good for mental health. 

You walked for a while, stopping every so often to take a picture of a mushroom or leaf that stood out to you. When the forest got darker you decided it was time to head back to the Ministry, you didn’t feel much better but you couldn’t stay outside forever. You started walking back the way you came letting your feet drag on. You really didn’t want to have to return to the real world, but you knew you had to. You continued a bit farther before stopping. 

Didn’t I already pass that stump?

You take out your phone to check your pictures only to realize it had died. How did you not realize it was so low before coming out into the middle of the woods? You cursed and looked around in an attempt to get your bearings, but it was only getting dark as the sun sank before the horizon. You felt sick as the realization that you were lost starts to sink into your mind. You looked in each direction briefly considering picking a path and following it, but it would do you no good. Everything looked the same in the fading light and it made you disoriented. You hang your head in defeat and try to convince yourself that sleeping outside for one night wouldn’t be so bad. 

Well…at least it can’t get any worse. 

You should’ve kept your thoughts to yourself. You hear a howl in the distance and you freeze, tensing. You forgot about the hellhounds. How could you forget about the hellhounds.

 To be fair, the hounds only appeared at night to act as guards for Ministry grounds and you typically were not out and about after dinner. The issue now, though, is you have no idea what to do. If the hounds catch you you’re definitely dead. If you stay put they’ll find you easily. If you run they’ll chase the scent and you’ll just get more lost. 

You don’t have a lot of time to think before you hear a twig snap. You whip around to find the source and see two red pinhole eyes creeping out from the brush. It’s growling low, drool dripping from its maw. It snaps its teeth and you feel your heart pound in your ears. You slowly start to back up from it before your back hits a tree. You stare wide eyed at the beast and send a quick prayer that whatever it does will be quick and painless. You see the way its hind legs shift and you know it’s rearing back to pounce. You screw your eyes shut and hope for the best when you hear its growl turn into a full bark. You wait for the burn of claws and teeth…and you wait. 

When the tearing of flesh doesn’t come you crack open your eyes to see a soft purple glow and a tail waving side to side. You watch the hellhound creep closer to the figure, sniff it, and then turn and dart into the bush it first came out of. The second it’s gone the glow disappears and the ghoul hunches over with his hands on his knees. 

“Lord’s below that was terrible. The puppies are so cute I don’t understand how they grow into that.” 

“Uhh…”

“Oh!” He turns around suddenly “Are you alright? It didn’t bite you did it? Oh what am I thinking if it did you wouldn’t be standing here.” 

You stare at the ghoul in front of you. The left half of his face is cracked with lichtenberg figure scars that dip below the neckline of his top. His eyes are mismatched, one the typical color for quintessence, the other looks almost hollow with the pupil glowing faintly. He has a shock of white in his hair that perfectly lines up with the end of one of the branches of his scars. But all that isn’t what catches your attention. No, what you notice is the very obvious streaks of dried tears on his cheeks. 

“Yeah…yeah I’m okay. Uh are you?” 

“Hm? Oh yea! The hellhounds won’t attack ghouls. We smell like the Infernal to them.” 

“That’s not” you pause and shake your head “You’re Phantom right? One of the new papal ghouls?” 

His posture goes rigid when you say this but he nods anyway. He asks for your name and you give it to him and you are suddenly very aware of the tension in the air. After a moment he clears his throat. 

“If you don’t mind me asking…why are in the woods? I thought humans couldn’t survive outside for long.”

You almost wanted to laugh at the statement. The way he said it was filled with such genuine curiosity it made your heart warm. But then you remembered why you were out there and your face fell again. His scars seemed to pulse dimly with light and the ghoul suddenly looked panicked. 

“No, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean anything bad by that I was just—“ 

You shake your head “No it’s not anything you did Phantom. I just…had a rough couple of days. Needed somewhere to go.” 

His eyes scan over you for a moment before he wraps himself in a hug, tail curling around his leg. 

“Yeah I…I don’t know much about humans, but I think I know exactly what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

You look up at him and your heart breaks when you see just how small he looks. You tentatively reach towards him and you’re taken aback by how quickly he jumps into you. You freeze for a second not really sure what to do with a ghoul wrapped around you. You know ghouls are pack creatures so this is normal behavior. You slowly bring your arms up and around him, patting his back softly. That seems to do the trick as you feel his tail wrap loosely around your leg. You shudder feeling a zap of quintessence ripple through you. He pulls back just enough to look at you. He looks like he got punched in the gut. 

“I can make that go away. It’ll be easy and you’ll be happy again.” 

“What?” You say astonished before mentally slapping yourself. Quintessence ghouls can sense emotion, and in rare cases read minds. 

“Just let me make someone happy please.” He sounds desperate, almost afraid. 

“Phantom you can’t…make me happy. Well okay technically yes you can, but that’s magic. It’s going to change what’s wrong.” 

He hesitates “What is wrong?” 

You stare at him for what feels like an eternity before sighing and untangling yourself from him. You slump down against a tree and close your eyes, resting your head against the trunk. A quick smile flashes onto your face when you feel him sit next to you, tail now twining around your arm. You open your eyes and turn to look at him. Something about the way he looks at you makes you feel safe, seen. You feel your throat burn and you cough before you begin to explain what’s been causing you so much grief. 

You were lonely. 

“I know it must be such a silly thing for me to complain about…especially to a ghoul.” You say finishing out your tangent. 

“No,” he whispers, shaking his head “No I get it..”

You look up from where you had been playing with his fingers and gasp seeing the tears welling in his eyes. 

“Phantom what’s—“ 

You were cut off by him pulling you into another hug, but this one was filled with something deep. 

“Why do they all hate me? I didn’t ask for this! I try so hard to be everything they need so maybe they’ll keep me around.”

“Phantom?” 

“But they don’t! They always pair off and I’m the odd one out every time! I know they’d rather have Aether. I’m not stupid, but why won’t they just give me a chance?” 

“Phantom.” 

“I know I’m just a waste of resources to them. I know none of them would bat an eye if I just disappeared.”

“Phantom!” 

He stops and stares at you wide eyed, tears running down his face. You gently reach out and hold his cheek in your hand. He melts into the touch as a sob wracks his body. 

“I want you here.”

“But…we just met. Why do you care? Why would you want me?” 

“I could ask you the same. You came to help me without even knowing my name.”

He sniffs “I wasn’t gonna just let you get ripped to little fleshy bits.” 

You cringe a little at his choice of words but continue “I don’t know the full extent of what’s going on but…it sounds like you could use someone to help fend off those bad thoughts.” 

“Like a friend?” 

“Yeah” you smile “Like a friend. We can be alone together. How about that?” 

“I think I need that.” 

You pull him into you and let him lay his head on your chest. You two sit like that for a long time, silently bathing in each other’s presence. You let a few more tears fall from your eyes. For the little ghoul that was so shunned by his pack he had to find comfort in a human who barely knew him. For yourself who had so many people around them but still felt this hole deep inside of your soul. For both of you who found each other. 

You run a hand through his hair when you hear the softest of purrs vibrate through him. It sounds a bit scratchy at first, but soon it turns into an even rumble. You gently shake him.

“Hey it’s getting cold…we should probably find our way back inside.” 

“Oh” his ears droop “Yeah you’re probably right.” 

“Do you wanna…would you maybe wanna stay with me for the night.” 

He instantly perks up “Really? I mean I would love to. I yes I would yes.” 

You both stand and he leads the way once you explain to him that you actually have no idea where you’re at. You take over, though, once into the Ministry. You both curl up under your mound of blankets and spend the rest of the night going back and forth about the things that plague your mind, about the stupid things that make you smile, about each other until you fall into a deep sleep feeling content with the weight next to you, but also the weight that disappeared from your shoulders.

Maybe being alone wasn't so bad if it led you to him.

[copperbadge]

Oh geez, is that where the “I have harnessed the secret powers of my ADHD” stuff is coming from? I mean, good work, but maybe don’t put that on your resume.

What, the "how your ADHD is a superpower" thing? I'm not really immersed enough in that niche to know, but it's certainly possible. YouTube I think is a more vocal place when it comes to clickbait about how your neurodivergence is really a neuroadvantage.

It's not objectively bad. I think there is space to both acknowledge that life with neurodivergence can suck, but also that there's nothing wrong with being a different kind of thinker. The problem is with the way our culture treats that difference. Like yeah I wish my brain was different, and even if our culture was different I'd still probably do that, but being old enough to see the ways in which I'm advantaged by it is very validating, and makes up for it.

Despite being terrible with details in my own work, I often catch stuff my neurotypical colleagues miss, both in the work we do and just like, out in the world. Last time we were traveling, one of them said, "Man, I wish there was a bakery around here," and I said "Oh, we passed one two blocks back -- well, not really a bakery, they do mini cheesecakes." Once we backtracked, it was evident that we'd all walked past it but I was the only one who clocked it, because it was tiny and didn't have much signage. My coworker asked me, "How did you even notice this was here?" and I said, "That's the ADHD!" with amusement.

Mind you, I was with two colleagues I trust, one of whom has a kid with developmental struggles, so I was okay talking about it. It shouldn't be something that you have to hide, but yeah it's not something to put on your resume, or in your cover letter. It will make you less employable, which sucks, but also unless you're asking for accommodation that's not something your employer needs to know. I won't advise on when to notify an employer that you'll need accommodation, because I'm not well-versed in disability law, but I've seen it go very badly even with people who have been with an employer for years. And during an interview, anything that's not directly about the job (faith, partner, kids, disability, allergies, etc) should be kept to the absolute minimum, if only because some people in hiring really get put off by any mention of it in a discussion of job skills.

And I think truly the issue is that there was probably a brief moment of about three weeks where "your disability is a superpower" was actually a meaningful, validating statement, and then the Employment Industrial Complex got hold of it and realized that they could shift the messaging to validate anything that contributed to the capitalist work ethic and ignore or dismiss anything that didn't. It's shocking how fast "hey, ADHD has some upsides" became "if you can stop fidgeting your hyperfocus will make us millions."

[f1oricide]

We all have cravings

Yan! Mikey x reader

This is kinda like a part two for the Yan Mikey hc I made. Also just know this is strictly fiction, I do NOT support this Irl if you do please seek help. This is my contribution to horrortober ig. I did not proof read this at all so I hope u enjoy my brain rot.

Tw: build up, poor writing, blood, kidnapping, yandere themes, cannibalistic themes, anxiety, panic attacks, nonconsensual touching (nonsexual), overall bad time for y/n

I hate my job. Customer service is bitch in a half, I swear to god customer service employees are doing gods work. I can’t even wipe tables in piece without some lady yelling at me about how her frappe has too much ice like it’s a global issue. What’s worse is how I spend 8 hours of my life for this, I need a better job.

Walking down the slightly empty streets of New York, my body aching for my beloved bed. I look at the shops as I walk by, absorbing all the trinkets and doodads inside. One place though, stopped me in my tracks, a quaint little bakery near by an alleyway. the inside had a golden glow to it, it was almost unreal, beautiful, and the smell was amazing.

so as any normal young adult would do, I walk in, not knowing what I want to buy. I instantly feel regret setting inside my stomach, why did I walk in? Oh god I can’t just leave without buying anything, maybe they didn’t noticed I walked in? Looking around right as that thought sped through my mind, I made eye contact with the baker, they greeted me, but god of course they saw me.

Well due to social obligation, I HAVE to buy something. Panic started to rise as I still have no idea what to buy, knowing the baker isn’t even rushing me, the panic is still there. Just as I thought all hope was lost, I felt another pair of eyes on me. Turning I see a man in a trench coat and fedora, staring at me through the glass like I’m one of the wonders of the world. Weirdo. We make eye context for a second before he snaps out of it, and stumbles inside.

Thank god, an out I thought as the man walked closer to the counter. “You can order first if you’d like, Im still deciding.” We made eye contact again, despite the added difficulty the fedora he was wearing made. “Wow, thanks stranger! You know this place has some delicious raspberry sweet rolls! I totally recommend them if you haven’t tried any!” Sweet rolls? As a recommendation? This dude just keeps getting weirder and weirder, but considering I don’t know what else to get, I might as well try it, what’s the harm? “Hmm that does sound tempting, maybe I will” making sure to add a smile after, the man seems to beam at my remark. “Trust me, they are AMAZING especially with some chamomile tea and vanilla scones”

Pfft- What are you? A rich old white British lady? “Pfft hahahah! Good one, it really does sound like I am huh?” He continues to laugh even harder as the “joke” sets in as I stare in shock and horror. Did I really just say that out loud? “My names Mikey, what’s yours stranger?” He says while wiping a tear from his eye. “Oh uhm- y/n” were doing introductions now I guess. “Well y/n it’s nice to meet you” holding his hand out, I didn’t fail to notice the green skin and the three fingers outstretched towards me.

Oh my god, what the hell?! An excuse, think of an excuse. “We should probably order, don’t wanna hold up the line” good one me. He looks behind us and I follow suit; low and behold, no one else of course. He chuckles before turning back to me and says, “I guess you have a point”. Retracting his hand he turns to the cashier and places his order. The cashier told him that he’s gonna have to wait for 20 minutes for it to be ready, Mikey nods and turns to me before asking the cashier for those raspberry sweet rolls. Oh god-

“Oh can you make those separate?” I sputter before Mikey quickly answers, “I insist, I don’t want you to waste your money if you don’t like it!” Convincing argument plus free food? You win this round “Mikey”.

After paying Mikey and I go to sit down at a nearby booth. Maybe I have him pegged wrong my mind started rationalizing. Maybe it’s a medical condition? We sat for a good minute in silence as I’m overthinking per usual. “So, what do plan to do with a whole loaf of zope bread?” I say to avoid the loud thoughts buzzing through my head. “Oh! Well I was planning on making it myself but I might as well try this places zone, I’m planning on pairing it with some-“ before he can continue, the cashier called out the raspberry sweet rolls to catch out attention.

I got the rolls and walked back to the booth. “Well, here’s my order”

…

“So…see ya…”

Before I could even take a step though, Mikey shot up “whaaat?! B-but you didn’t even try it! I want to see if you like it or not!” He stared at me with pleading eyes, like a dog begging it’s human for a treat. Why is he so invested in this? “I didn’t think you’d want to know my feedback..” “well duhhh, I recommend it to you, I just have to know i hit the nail on the head!” Oh… well whatever it takes to leave faster. I grabbed a roll and popped it in my mouth, it was EXPLODING with flavor. I think Mikey could tell with the knowing smirk that spread across his face.

After that we started talking more in the restaurant, I got to know him more. Apparently he has three more brothers, when he made me guess which one he was, it wasn’t hard to tell he’s the youngest. Eventually his order was done, disappointment sent in me because, well, this was actually a pleasant interaction with a not so total stranger. Acquaintance if you will. By the time his order was ready, I already ate all the rolls, so I guess this is it.

“It was nice meeting you, I didn’t really plan staying out this late.” I said as we walked out, the sky nearly dark. “It was reallyyy nice meeting you too, you know…” he stated reaching in his pocket. “If you need any more expert cooking advice, give me a call!”

.

.

.

That should’ve been it, but noooo, I just HAD to call back, we just HAD to get to know each other more, he just HAD to show me his “secret” identity…I just HAD to fall in love…no..for his tricks

It all started with food, a fucking roll no less. He fed me and like a wild animal I kept coming back. I ignored all the red flags, all my friends concerns, not noticing how they quickly left my life after venting to Mikey about them. I kept coming back for more like a dumb dumb animal.

But now here I am, a small closet with one twin bed and barren walls, no fan or vent. What did I do to deserve this? What avengers level threat did I cause to end up here? There’s barely anything to do besides relive old mistakes and sweat. Dare I say it, I even miss my job and being a useful member of society.

The door finally opened the reveal the devil himself, Mikey. But somethings off…I’ve been here long enough to read Mikey’s face like a book. He looks nervous, like he wants something nervous… fear started to creep within me, what did he want now?

Usually he brings stuff in like crafts or food and water, but this time, it’s just him. Closing the door behind him, he speaks. “Hi my Angel…” a grimace grew on my face. That nickname used to make me swoon, but now it makes me want to throw up. “I have a very important question to ask you”

This was the question that ruined my life…and I thought it couldn’t get any worse… he wanted me…ME. To… just the thought is making me gag- EAT HIM. LITERALLY. The thoughts in my head started swarming me, his justifications and explanations fall on deaf ears as the room swirls around me. He gently grabs my forearms snapping me back, since when did I start crying? I can’t even breath right, I feel like I’m drowning.

“Listen, I know it sounds really really REALLY crazy, but I need you to trust me… you’ll be okay. This will be good for us! We’ll be together all the time isn’t that great?” No, it’s not great, far from it actually. “I won’t force you to do it now of course, take your time, I’ll wait, I’ll always wait for you”

Ever since then, no matter how much I stalled, it was only putting off the inevitable. No matter what I did, it never swayed him. Actually, it did, but not how I would’ve wanted. He started giving me less and less to eat. It started off small with a few less portions, but I never noticed the twitch in his smile whenever I put down his encouragement to chomp on his arm. He started giving less portions and no breakfast anymore, id be lucky if he gave me dinner.

Im hungry, starving even. It hurts, it hurts so so much. He would always come in more often, lifting his arm and encouraging me to bite. “Come on, you can do it baby”. It pisses me off. How dare you kidnap me after I gave you my trust. How dare you put me in a cramped tiny room, having to solely rely on you for everything. HOW DARE YOU force me to break EVERYTHING I thought was RIGHT all while you look at me and TELL ME YOU LOVE ME.

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I hate you. I failed to notice hot tears running down my face. I hate you. I also failed to notice how hard I shook, how my teeth grinding against each other until it hurt. FUCKING I HATE YOU

Red, it’s all I can see. I used laughing when any character in media say they saw red, can you blame me? It sounds so…dumb, but I get it now. I understand, how ironic. Apparently, I could..taste red too…

Snapping back to reality a brick of drowsiness crashes down onto me, I must’ve had some high adrenaline because my jaw started hurting like a bitch. Liquid runs down my jaw, it’s warm..fresh. Why do I feel something on my tongue-

Shock slaps me in the face, my eyes go as wide as saucers, what have I done?? Looking up at Mikey I see the sheer amount of euphoria in his face, his eyes holding so much love, it might spill out. I need this thing out of me, I need HIM out. I gag trying to spit it out but he quickly puts his hand on my mouth. “you can do it, swallow quickly, it’ll all be over, your doing amazing” I don’t even think before swallow the lump down. The worst part about this whole experience was feeling the lump of meat slide down my throat and plop into my stomach. My mouth instantly starts salivating, and I’m forced to question if it’s because of the hunger still in me or the sheer amount of disgust and horror in me trying to throw it up while Mikey whispers sweet nothings in my ear.

Everything is too much. The air is too hot, too heavy, too wet. It feels horrible on my skin. It’s too noisy, to crowded, too much. Mikey only hugs me tight to his chest, his arm still bleeding , all while I lean in considering how it’s the only comfort I’ll get out of this hell hole. “I knew you’d trust me…I love you.. so so sooo much. I’ll never leave your side. We’re bound together as one, isn’t that great?”

All I could do was sob violently, slowly passing out, everything slowly fading to black.